The Boy That Saved My Life (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Ch.19

(HARRY'S POV)

"Does the Caesar Salad have calories in it?" 

I stared at Quinn McPhee across the table with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. The girl that I used to be so enthralled with, the girl whose posters I would hang up all over my wall, the girl whose lame-ass movies I would go see just because she was in it, the girl who I once would have done anything to have dinner with, was the girl who was making me want to pull my hair out. 

I hadn't been in America that long, not even a week, and this girl insisted on seeing me pretty much every day. To be completely honest, it wasn't only her. My entire management team was forcing me to spend time with her because they think that she would be the 'perfect candidate' for my love interest in our next music video. 

Although I have been in this business for a few years now, I had never met a celebrity as stuck-up and air-headed as her. All this girl talked about was her stupid Chihuahua (which looked more like a rat to me…) and her extremely luxurious life. To be honest, I would rather hear about a monkey's urination cycle than hear her obnoxiously high voice explain in great detail about her latest shopping endeavor. She was driving me crazy, to say the least.

The only thing that got me through it was the fact that I only had to put up with it for eight more days. 

Eight more days of being in America.

Eight more days of seeing that poor-excuse of an actress.

And most importantly, eight more days until I got to see Emma.

"Uh, yeah, it does," the waitress responded to her.

Quinn flicked a long brunette extension off her shoulder and shoved her menu into the waitress' face. "I'll just have water."

I could have sworn that the waitress rolled her eyes before turning to me. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the Spaghetti and meatballs. Thanks," I said with a smile. I had to give her credit, waiting on a bunch of snobs all day must have taken a toll on her.

The moment the waitress walked away, Quinn pulled out her compact and began yapping away while she inspected her every pore.

"I am doing this thing called the water diet. It's aahhhh-mazing. All you have to do is dri-"

I decided to take the chance and take a good glance at her, anything was better than listening to that dumb Hollywood-esque accent of hers. Her long brown waves were a bit tacky, the places the unnaturally long strands had been sewed in were completely evident. Her makeup-caked face was orange-like, and her clumpy eyelashes reminded me of a wad of black gum. The outfit she was wearing was entirely inappropriate, the dress, about six sizes too small, showed off more cleavage and leg than it was meant to. Her neon pink heels must have been at least seven inches tall, making her look like she was walking on stilts. Overall, she looked like a not-so-hot mess.