Isabelle’s P.O.V
The next morning I awoke super early, and then remembered what Kate had said about buying milk. I quickly shrugged on a pair of jeans and a black tank top with a loosely fitted t-shirt that hung over my shoulder on the left side. Then I grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and hastily scribbled a note.

Kate,
Gone to pick up the milk. Don’t freak out. Love you…
Belle

There, that was perfect. I snuck into Kate’s room, trying to be as quiet as possible. Then I set the little note gently down on the dresser, smiling faintly at Kate’s light snoring.

I didn’t know if the stairs were creaky. I was about to step on the first flight when I had an idea. I grinned and quickly sat myself on the bannister, and without warning, slid down. I wanted to whoop, but I doubt that Kate wouldn’t hear that.

Eventually I met the bottom of the steps without any noise. I quickly hoisted myself up off the railing and unset the alarm, slipping on a pair of black Converse and a jacket after. I was out the door before I knew it, walking along the sidewalk, studying my surroundings. The chilly December air bit at me, and I zipped my windbreaker up all the way.

Outside was a winter wonderland. Snow layered the edges of the sidewalks and piled up freely at the park across the street. A few cars swept by, their tires emitting gravelly noises. I looked up at the sky to find it cloudy and a pale gray.

Now, I’m not saying that we don’t get snow in Canada. We sure as hell do. But seeing it in a different country made it…I don’t know. It made it like a whole new experience.

I found myself looking around and realised how poorly I had thought this through. I didn’t know if the grocery store was open at this hour. I didn’t even know where it was. I just knew that my sister had said that it was close. I’d have to live with that.
The wind suddenly picked up, and it whistled in my ears. I looked around, but only saw a few people out on the street. There was a couple, not too far behind me, holding hands. It made my heart ache. There was a figure walking opposite of me, but their head was down, concealed by a gray coat. Then, if I looked across the street, I could see a female jogger running, pink furry earmuffs strapped into place.

I turned back forward, hiding a smile. I was going to live here. For a year. A full year.

How was I going to manage? What would I do? Where would I go? There were still so many things I wanted to see. Wait, it was only my third day. I knew one thing. I would make this year count. I was bursting. Being with Kate, staying with her. I didn’t think there were any surprises anymore.

I was lost in thought when I bumped shoulders with the figure in the gray coat. They continued past me, but I laid a hand on their concealed shoulder. “Hey I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Then the figure turned towards me, and I took a fair intake of breath. I was staring at a beautiful face. The mouth was curved up, in a small smirk, revealing a hidden dimple. The eyes were a light green. And I could faintly see a trace of dark curls underneath the hood. I brushed my wavy brown hair back and opened my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

The figure shook their head. They looked vaguely familiar. Then they spoke gruffly, “I need your help.”

I nodded, unsure of what to make of the situation, “Um sure, what is—,” but before I could finish the sentence, the man grabbed my wrist and dragged me along as he ran. I tried to call out, but my voice was lost in the wind, and when I looked around, I saw no traces of people.

The man led me to a small flat on the edge of the block. I looked back and instantly regretted the fact that I had walked a fair amount and was a little bit far from Kate’s house.

I stumbled inside and the guy took off his hood for real, and then I realised where I’d seen him before. All over Kate’s walls. My hand flew to my mouth. “You…you’re that guy. What’s your name?”
He laughed a deep laugh, and my heart melted. “I’m Harry. Harry Styles.” But my mood quickly shifted from shock to anger. “Well then, Harry Styles, would you please explain why you just kidnapped me?!” he laughed again, and I put my hands on my hips.

“I didn’t kidnap you,” he said simply, “I told you that I need your help.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “And then you grabbed me and dragged me all the way here!”

Just then, a voice rang out, “Harry mate, who’s with you?”
Five guys appeared in the door. One was wearing a hoodie with a buzz cut. The guy beside him had blonde hair and light blue eyes. The guy beside him had so many tattoos on his arm that it should have been illegal. Another was wearing suspenders, which made me want to laugh. And then last guy looked totally out of place. He wore dark clothing and was extremely big and bulky, very muscular.

“Who’s this?” Buzz Cut asked. “Liam,” Harry said, “This is…” he trailed off, looking at me expectantly. I shook my head. “No! I’m not telling you my name after you dragged me in here from the streets!”

Suspenders face-palmed. “Harry, is this her? We told you to let us meet her, not kidnap her!”

I gestured to him with my hand, “Thank you!”

“What’s your name, love?” the bulky guy asked. I caved in, figuring that this guy was either their father, or their bodyguard. My shoulder sagged, “I’m Isabelle Foster.” The older guy nodded, and pointed to himself, “I’m Paul. This is Harry, as you probably already know, Liam, Niall, Zayn and Louis.”

Paul pointed to each boy in turn. The blonde one, Niall, bowed,

“Absolutely spiffy to meet you, darling.”

I couldn’t help it; a small smile found its way onto my face. But then I quickly wiped it off. “Look,” I said, sighing, “It’s nice to meet you. But I don’t even know why I’m here. I just left my house to buy milk.”

All of the guys chuckled, even Paul.

“We need to ask you something though,” Paul said, “You see, Harry here has gotten into a bit of trouble with the press, and the only way to…well, to shut them up is to give them something else to gossip about. And that’s well, where you come in. We’d like for you to, well…”

But if he continued, I didn’t hear him. I suddenly became aware of what he was asking. I held up my hands. “You want me—me to—oh no…no, no way,” I stepped back, aware that I was one step closer to the door, “Absolutely not. I don’t even know this guy. See ya.”

My hand was on the doorknob when Paul’s voice rang out again, “

"We’ll give you something in return.”

I turned back around, shaking my head. “You’re honestly going to stoop as low as bribery. That is pathetic.” If the words stung, Paul didn’t show it. He just crossed to where a small desk stood, ripped a sheet of paper off the stack standing on it, and pulled a pen out of his coat and scribbled something down.

“How’s—,” he walked over to me, showing me the sheet of paper and what he’d written on it, “—this number?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out, so I just nodded silently.

Harry’s P.O.V

“And this is my room,” I said proudly, moving my hand in a sweeping gesture. I stared around my bedroom. The walls were painted a light blue. The bed was decked with white-pure-looking blankets, although I’d done very non-pure things on that bed. There was a mirror on the far wall, bordered with fine silvery thread, and a dresser stood mightily in the corner, looking powerful.

Isabelle nodded dryly, looking unimpressed, “Nice.” I smirked, “Is that all you can say?” All I received in response was a lonely shrug.

“What’s with you?” I asked, confused. She just rolled her eyes, apparently giving me the silent treatment. I sighed, “Look, I’m sorry for springing this on you. I have a feeling you’re not from around here.”

“Ya think?” she muttered under her breath, and I grinned, happy that I could get a small piece of wording out of her. She stared at the wall, her arms crossed. “I’m sorry,” I said again. Isabelle was pretty, I’ll give her that. She had dark wavy hair that went up to her mid-back. She had a soft jawline, with pretty freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were a deep, rich brown, and they seemed to sparkle when she looked at me. Her lips were small but full, and I had a feeling that they were soft.

Isabelle turned to me, scowling. “I’m only doing this for the money, okay? That’s it. You don’t have to pretend that I’m your actual girlfriend, because that’s just awkward. Stop acting like I’m fragile.” I held up my hands in a deft pose, “Okay, okay, sorry.”

She turned to leave, “Whatever. I have to go now. I have to get milk for my sister.” Suddenly my instincts took over and I lashed out, grabbing her around the wrist. She turned to look at me slowly. “Get away from me,” she growled. I quickly let go of her and shrugged, “I was just wondering if you wanted a ride to the grocery store. I doubt you know where it is.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Yeah?” she asked skeptically, “And why do you say that?” I smirked, “Because,” I said, “You were walking the other way.”

She held my gaze but blushed. I tried to keep from laughing, but I let out a small snort. She scoffed and whipped back around.

“Whatever,” she called over her shoulder, “Where’s your garage?”
I led her downstairs to the garage where a car was waiting. It was a silver Honda Civic. She whistled, “Pretty low-key for someone who’s loaded up to the eyeballs.” I chuckled, but she still stayed as stiff as ever, and I gestured to the car, “Get in.”

“Don’t order me around,” she muttered under her breath but she slid in anyways.

Five minutes later, we were speeding along the freeway. I caught Isabelle shooting me uncertain looks from the corner of her eyes, and I said, eager to break the silence, “So, tell me about you.”

“No thanks,” she muttered. I pressed on, “Come on,” I protested,

“Just one thing.”

“I don’t want to,” she snapped, and I was a tad bit shocked at the tone she used. I just shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

There were several awkward moments of silence. Finally Isabelle sighed, “I’m nineteen.” I took that as a sign to press on. “Cool,” I told her, “Same. But I’ll be twenty soon,” I paused, “Tell me something else.”

“Don’t push it,” she said. We continued the car ride in silence. Finally, I pulled off of the freeway and onto a narrow dirt road. Tree branches skimmed along the edge of the car. Isabelle looked at me irritably. “Are you sure we’re going to the grocery store? I thought it was close.”

I chuckled, “Oh, I’m not taking you to the grocery store.”
Isabelle’s eyes hardened. “Spit it out, asshole.”

I laughed for real at the order. As if she could order me around. She was nothing to me. I was going to show her. “Oh,” I said, “I’m taking you someplace where I shag all my fake-girlfriends.” She lifted her chin deftly, “Let me out of the car.”

“Can’t do that sweetheart.”

“I swear to God Harry, let me out of the freaking car.”

I stopped on the dirt road and put the vehicle in park. I sat back and crossed my arms while Isabelle unbuckled her seatbelt. She tried to pry open the door, but I had locked it. She turned to me with a murderous stare. “Let me out,” she said between clenched teeth. I held up my hands, knowing that she wouldn’t really leave.

“Fine.” The car doors unlocked as I pressed a button on the keys.

She yanked open the door, and stepped out.

“You realise you don’t have any means of transportation!” I yelled tauntingly. “I’ll walk!” she screamed, and she slammed the door with a loud thump! I turned and watched her march away. She didn’t look back. Shit, was she actually going to leave? Seriously?

“Shit,” I muttered, and I gritted my teeth and opened the door.

Isabelle’s P.O.V

I was fuming. My cheeks felt hot, and tears began to build behind my eyes. My nose burned. I heard the car door open, and I figured that Harry was going to be a complete dick and not let me walk away. I broke into a run. “Hey!” I heard from behind.
I took the risk to glance back. I didn’t want to, but my body did it of its own accord. I saw Harry sprinting after me, shaking his head.

His eyes were determined.

And then I was falling. I just managed to put my hands out in front of me before the hit the hard, dusty dirt. I looked back to see a large root sticking out of the ground, and Harry slowing into a light jog. He reached me and stepped over the root carefully, and then looked down at me with an expression that one might wear if they’d just eaten a lemon. That’s when I noticed a searing pain in my right leg. I turned onto my back and angled my calf, finding a dark, wet spot on the right side of my calf. I tried reaching out and touching it, but it hurt too much to move.

Harry was still looking at me weirdly. I sighed, “Are you going to help me up, or what?” he seemed to snap out of it, because he bent down beside me and grabbed the hem or my jean leg. Carefully he rolled it up, and I gritted my teeth, trying to keep a scream in. It hurt like hell.

My jeans were soaked in blood. I risked a look and found that my leg had been cut open in a gash about four inches long. I closed my eyes and tried to focus, afraid that I would faint. I took a deep breath as Harry pulled off his jacket and began dabbing at my blood-soaked leg. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

I scowled, “Thanks, asshole.” He smiled, looking down at my leg, and threw his jacket aside like it was nothing. He was only wearing a V-neck sweater underneath, along with his black jeans, but he wasn’t shivering. He looked down at me intently. “Can you walk?”

I tried to move my leg even the slightest bit and let a scream out through my teeth. Harry clucked his tongue, “That’s a no.”
“No kidding, genius,” I growled. I knew that I wasn’t being fair to him, but it was his fault. If he’d just taken me to the grocery store like I’d asked, we wouldn’t be in this position. I cringed. Harry took me in his arms and scooped me off the ground. I crossed my arms while he held me and stared up at him, my jaw set. “This doesn’t change anything, asshole.”

*Three hours later*

“I’m surprised they took us in so early,” I muttered to myself. I didn’t intend for Harry to answer, but he did, “You’re with me.” I rolled my eyes, very aware that he was trying to make me smile, but I wasn’t falling for it. I shook my head and let out a quiet sigh, looking back down at my leg that was now sheltered under some gauze.

Harry shifted in the visitor’s chair in the doctor’s office. “Why do you hate me so much?” I rolled my eyes and didn’t answer, not wanting him to use anything I said against me. “Well?” he asked again, sounding rather impatient. I rolled my eyes again and trailed my fingers along the bandages covering my calf.

Suddenly Harry was beside me. I had been sitting on one of those beds covered with a thin paper sheet, and he leaned so far into me that I was reclined all the way to the wall. He was standing, but his hands were resting on the leather cushiony material beside my thighs, and I just clenched my jaw and stared at the wall of tools beside the bed, suddenly fascinated. “Are you going to answer me?” Harry asked tauntingly. I lifted my chin into the air and willed myself not to shift uncomfortably.

“I can make you answer me,” Harry threatened. I looked into his eyes and found no trace of mockery; he was dead-serious. My mouth suddenly felt dry. Harry must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he smiled, “Yeah that’s right. You know you want to.”

“I’m not a prostitute,” I spat out savagely, but Harry just grinned wider. “See? I told you I could make you talk.” I somehow found my will again and pushed him away from me just as the doctor entered.

The doctor was a thin man who had light gray eyes and a balding head. He wore a coat with a nametag. I read ‘Dr. Drowereski’. He wore khakis and black loafers, and held a clipboard. There was a blue pen in his white coat pocket. “Isabelle Foster?” he asked. I could see Harry grin when he heard my last name, and I groaned internally. I wanted Harry to know as little about me as possible.

“Yes?” I asked, still wincing when I moved my leg. The doctor tapped his clipboard with his finger. “You’ll need stitches. We’ll numb your leg so you don’t feel anything.”

“How many?” Harry piped up, and the doctor turned towards him, as if just noticing him for the first time. “Any may I ask, who are you?” Harry smirked, like he’d been waiting for the doctor to ask that question. I opened my mouth to quickly cut him off and intervene, but it was too late. “I’m her boyfriend,” Harry told the doctor proudly, and stared at him murderously. The doctor turned back to me, and Harry wiggled his eyebrows at me in some perverted gesture. I turned away.

"How many?” I asked this time. The doctor consulted his clipboard. “About twelve. We’re not sure yet.” I nodded, “Okay, thanks.” He flashed me a quick smile and turned to leave. When the door closed, Harry was back, looming over me.

“So,” he said, “Care to answer my question?”

I don’t really know what happened, but I just snapped. I’d only known Harry for a few hours, and I already hated him with a passion. “Yeah,” I growled, and I sat up, forcing him back, “I hate you because you’re a complete dickhead. You’re cocky, you’re rude, and you can’t take a hint. I’m only doing this for the money. And if you think that I’m going to magically fall in love with you, you’re fucking insane.”

I stared into Harry’s green orbs, daring him to fight me. I guess he was a tad bit smart, because he just retreated back to his visitor’s chair. I slumped against the wall and felt my anger drain out of me all of a sudden.

For a few minutes, none of us spoke, letting the silence stretch on and on. I studied the office. It was painted light blue with a white ceiling. There were two visitor chairs and a wall of tools that I’d seen earlier.

Finally I sighed. “That was a bit harsh.” Harry chuckled lightly, but didn’t say anything. I tried standing, but no way in hell did that work, so I rolled my eyes and scolded myself for what I was about to do. “Come here.”

Harry stood and shuffled over to me, smirking. I rolled my eyes again as he sat next to me, and I clenched the fabric of my shirt in my fists tightly. “My mom once told me that you have to give people the benefit of the doubt. I guess that this applies to you…unfortunately.”

“Your mum is a smart lady,” Harry said quietly, and I looked beside me, only to find him staring at me intently, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, well,” I began, my voice thick, “She’s dead.” Harry’s smiled melted off his face. “I’m so sorry,” he suddenly stammered.
I shook my head, “It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it.” I looked down, playing with my fingers. Harry sighed, and the next thing I knew, his arm was around me. He pulled me in for a hug, and I stiffened, but eventually relaxed. I nuzzled his neck and inhaled deeply, smelling cinnamon cologne. Harry didn’t pile it on like most guys; it was only faint, but I closed my eyes anyways.
Then the door opened again, and my sister stepped into the room.

Kate’s P.O.V

“Belle?” I blurted. Then I saw who was with her; who she was hugging. “Harry Styles?” I screamed. Isabelle jumped, and Harry distanced himself away from her as much as possible. I leaned against the wall for support.

“Oh!” Isabelle cringed, “Um, hey, Kate.” I looked around wildly, my eyes demanding an explanation. Isabelle gestured to Harry Styles,

“Well, Kate, we’re dating.”

“What?” I exploded, and Isabelle giggled. Even Harry smiled. “Well, not exactly,” my sister corrected, “It’s all for the press. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t date a player like him for real.”

“Hey!” Harry protested, and Isabelle tittered and leaned on his shoulder. I felt faint. “Um, Mister Harry, could I please have a moment alone with my sister?”

Harry nodded silently and shot Belle one last look before exiting. As soon as he was gone, I screamed shrilly. Isabelle winced.

“Kate, seriously?”

I shook my head, my eyes wide, “I’m sorry, but he’s just so cute. And I think he likes you.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes, “He does not. It’s only a fake relationship.”

“Are you going to get to kiss him?” I whispered, and Isabelle burst out laughing. “God, I hope not. I bet he’s terrible.”

“Is he nice?” I asked, and suddenly, a dozen question flew out of my mouth before I could even register what the hell I was asking, “Do you think he’s hot? I saw you guys hugging; does he smell nice?”

“What?” Isabelle interrupted. “Kate! Calm down!” she looked uneasy, “He’s not really all that nice. I’ve only known him for a few hours though, so I guess I can’t really judge. I don’t really think he’s hot. And Kate,” she sighed, “He smells amazing.”

I squealed, and suddenly, a thought dawned on me, as if I’d just realised what was happening. “Wait a second. Harry? Harry Styles? No, absolutely not.” Isabelle stared at me like I was crazy. “Kate, what? Just a second ago you were happy and now—,”

“Absolutely not!” I cut in, “Belle, I will not have you dating him! Even if it is fake. He’s a womanizer, and he’ll hurt you badly. Trust me.” Isabelle shook her head and looked confused, “No, Kate, you don’t understand…”

“No!” I said loudly, “No, no, no! Nope! Absolutely not! No way!”

“Kate!” Isabelle yelled, and I recoiled as if she’d slapped me. I’d never heard her use that tone in forever. “Kate,” she said more softly, and in that moment, her eyes became excited and sad,

“Kate, they’re paying me five million dollars.”

Notes

Here is my second chapter! Please comment, rate, subscribe and vote! Don't forget to vote! Voting is important! ;)