Valerie Scott and Harry Styles are forced by the Modest! Management to live together and pretend that they're in a relationship. But there's one big problem. Valerie and Harry are like oil and water; frilly dress and sweatpants; cat and mouse; Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez; Rhianna and Amanda Bynes; Drake Bell and Justin Bieber; The Wanted and their songs. Bottom line, they don't click together. They can't stand each other for seconds. How much more when they have to live together for years? But what if love and acceptance take over, will they last forever? Only one way to find out... (WARNING: Contains scenes not suitable for individuals 13 years and below. So please, don't read if you're from that age range. I don't want to be responsible for brain-poisoning. LOL)


4. Retrieval Operation

It’s been three weeks already and my relationship with Harry has been widely known to the world. It’s funny how social media make it easier to propagate information in just a snap. Our hoax relationship has gained a lot of various reactions from people, especially from his die-hard and overprotective fans. Few are neutral but mostly are violent;

Why her? She’s not even blonde.

Slutty model.



Some even are cynical about it, thinking that it’s going to be another one of Harry’s quick and pastime relationship. It’s okay though, Mr. XXX has told me exactly what to expect when my name gets glued with the famous Harry Styles.

Eleanor and I have built a strong bond together as well. Every time the boys hang-out, we end up having our own conversation. We talk about girl-stuffs, our job, her studies and complaints about our boyfriends. She already introduced me to Danielle, Liam’s girlfriend. She’s nice and gorgeous. I can’t deny though that I’m a bit awkward about it at first. Considering I have a crush on her boyfriend. Just got chills.Haha! But yes, Danielle and I are now good friends.

However, it’s been three weeks also that Harry’s been wincing himself to sleep on the sofa every night. I feel sorry for him, but it’s his choice. We’ve been pretty civil with each other but we never really took the time to know more about each other. We’re just not that interested. We only exchange thoughts on what to eat each dinner, when there’s no more food on the fridge and we have to go and get groceries and nothing more. We just simply show to the world that we’re a happy couple; go out on a date once in a while, showing up on their guestings or rehearsals, everything to make it more convincing. I feel that this job is kind of corny, but I can’t complain.

It gets boring every time I have no photo shoot or fashion show to attend to and I’m stuck in the house with him. The TV is all his and the only indispensible tool I have to keep me  entertained are some books and my headphones plugged in with songs of my favourite artists.

My weary hand misses sketching. Some of my stuffs are still in my old flat. Apart from modelling, I can also sketch stuffs and design dresses which I’ve decided to keep to myself. Modelling isn’t my first choice. I’m only using it as a stepping stone of becoming a fashion designer and finance my own a gallery. Since I don’t really know much about any other job, modelling has helped me to survive in London.

Quarter to three in the afternoon, I decided to get dressed, grab my bag which has the key to my old flat in it. Probably just a 30 minute ride in a cab, I’m there already.

“Where are you going?” Harry pops out of nowhere as I take my step to the lounge. It caused me to slightly jump and pat my hand on my chest.

“Shocks, Harry! You gave me a fright.” I sigh deeply.

“Sorry.” He apologizes and repeats his question, “So where are you going?”

I continue walking past him and towards the door and say, “To my old flat.”

He follows me from behind and interrogates, “May I know what you’re going to do in your old flat?”

I turn about and face him, look sternly and speak up with an annoyed tone, “Seriously? Do I really have to tell you everything? You’re not my father, and clearly not my mother.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Fine. I’m going to pick up some of my stuffs.” I confess monotonously.

“Can I come with?” He asks sharply.

“What? No!” I sneer at him.

“I can give you a lift. Just tell me the directions.” He offers.

Judging by how he and his mates get along, I know Harry is a persuasive person and he won’t ever take NO for an answer. I’m the kind of girl who couldn’t be easily persuaded though. On the other hand, this is just a simple suggestion so maybe I should let this slide.

“Okay.” I blurted out unwillingly.

“Good. Wait here. I’ll just grab my keys.” He says and scamper to the bedroom to get his keys from the drawer.

I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. I drop my shoulder along with the bag in my hand and lean my head against the door while tapping my right foot on the floor.

In less than a minute, Harry already appeared and chimes the keys in his hand.

“Here we go.” I mutter.

I open the door and Harry followed after me outside. He closes the door behind him and we make our way to his car.




“This was your flat?” He chuckles at the sight of the tenebrous-looking flat that I once owned as soon as he pulls up to the driveway.

“Yes, Harry. This was my flat. As you can see, I don’t have taste in choosing where to dwell.” I sarcastically comment and continue, “Since I could not afford one decent flat like yours.” I sneer.

“Relax! I’m sorry.” He says sympathetically.

“Whatever.” I drone and get out of the car quickly.

I’m so pissed. Couldn’t he get more insensitive? Or he just really wants to annoy me? He shouldn’t have been here if he’s just going to judge where I lived. It’s really annoying that he’s making fun of a place that provided me shelter for more than a year. For a person struggling on my own, a flat, whatever it looks like, is a grace from God.

As I try to look for my keys inside the bag, he then got out of the car and walk towards me. I fit the key into the knob while Harry faces the street, scanning the surrounding.

I then get in to the flat and walk towards the narrow lounge. Soon, I realize that Harry’s not anywhere near me. I get back outside and see Harry still standing there, scanning the surrounding like an idiot.

“Hey!” I took him by surprise, and then he quickly drags his sight to me. “What are you still doing out here? Waiting for your crazy fans to notice you?” I slur.

“Sorry. My bad.” He sighs in defeat and get in quickly as I did.

Idiot! I thought to myself.

“Hey! Your flat isn’t as bad as it looks like in the outside.” He complimented in remorse while scanning the clean and organized flat. Because it’s almost empty. Haha!

“That’s why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Did your teacher ever told you that?” I smile snidely at him and I walk into my bedroom, leaving Harry alone and speechless in the lounge.

My room looks exactly the same when I left. It got posters of The Script on the wall and the first instalment of my favourite movie series, The Chronicles of Narnia, posted just above my headboard. It’s unfortunate that I only have little stuff in my flat, just the necessary ones. That’s why the place looks always neat and organized. Well, of course all along, I think the place is not going to be a permanent dwelling place for me and having a lot of stuffs to move will be a total bummer. Good decision, Valerie.

I bend down to the level of my bed and reach for the empty carton box under it. After, I waltz into the bathroom and fill the box with bottles of shampoo and conditioner, shower gels, and some medicines.

As soon as I get out of the bathroom, I get surprised by Harry who’s in front of the mirror, holding and prying at the picture that I once pinned on the mirror a long time ago. It perhaps gained him interests to stare at since it’s the only ordinary and old picture you can see in my bedroom.

I quickly drop the box to the floor and, run hastily to him and snatch the picture away from his grasp. “You are not supposed to see this.” I chide him.

Harry, surprised by my abrupt motion, defends himself, “I was just looking at it.”

“Yeah, I know. Right?” I stated while putting the picture in my bag.

“Whose sketchpads are these? Yours?” Harry inquires. He’s now at the opposite side of the room, beside my drawers, flipping through the pages of my sketchpad.

I run quickly again to him and snatch the sketchpad. I grab the others along with my portfolio which are on top of my drawers.

“Am I not allowed to look at those too?” He grumbles.

“Yes. You’re not even supposed to be in here.” I remark while putting the stuffs in the box.

“Party-pooper!” He murmurs.

“Why don’t you go and wait for me at the lounge? And please, don’t touch anything.” I commanded with hands on my waist.

“Fine.” He moans and shrugs, “The Script, huh?” He chuckles at the posters all over the wall and I smirk at him as he steps out of the room.

I draw back out the picture that I just put in the bag and stare at it for seconds. There’s a young couple with two kids, sitting on the grass on what seems to be a fine summer day. The young couple were Caucasian as well as the little blonde girl. The other kid is an Asian boy. The wide, cheeky grins on their faces seems like they’re having much fun that day. Not considering the odd appearance of the boy from the other three, they seem to be a very happy family.

“Valerie, have you gotten all your stuffs yet?” Harry yells from the outside of the room, from the lounge as I suppose.

I let out a sigh and yell back, “Yeah! Coming.”

“Impatient monkey!” I remark under my breath with gritted teeth. I then grab the box from the floor and head towards the door.

I see Harry standing by the lounge impatiently as soon as I step out of the room. His both hands dug in either his pockets. He lays his eyes on me as soon as he heard my steps approaching.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yep.” I answer meekly.

“Let me carry that for you.” He reaches for the box in my hand and attempts to take it from me. I refuse and make a tight grip of the box. Now, we’re both tugging it.

“I promise, I won’t peek at your stuffs.” He convinces.

I look sternly at him and say, “I don’t trust you.”

“I said, I promise.” He utters with certainty while looking straight to my eyes.

I then let go of the box, raise both hands as sign of subjection and sigh, “Fine, then.”


“You did have a nice place.” He commended as soon as we got out of the flat. I pulled out a sarcastic smile at him as a reply.

We then walk down the street and on our way to the car. I get in immediately to the front passenger seat while he puts the box in the trunk. He then immediately gets in to the driver’s seat after.

“How about we grab something to eat?” I suggest while rubbing my tummy.

“Alright. I’m already starving.” He mutters while fastening his seatbelt on his lap. He trails his look to my frail body and says, “How about your seatbelt, madam?”

I groan at him and do as he says, fasten my seatbelt unwillingly.


He then grab the steering wheel and hit the gas, “Okay, where to?”

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