My family is known for two things: Our money, and our scandals. My Father, Dean, runs a massive chain of beautiful hotels. My mother, Emily, was a model. She died while giving birth to me. Its a common story, but still such a huge tragedy, especially to my father. Its been 16 years, and I still hear him cry in his room at night. I'll never know my mom, but she must of been one hell of a woman, to make my father fall madly in love with her. My dad avoids me at all costs. I usually jump from hotel to hotel, and stir up trouble. I dont like to drama, drama likes me. Thats basically the back story of my screwed up family, but really,only two people isn't much of a family, is it?

--Harrys POV--
“Its probably the most fancy motel i've ever stayed at!” Niall threw his hands up in the air, swaying them around like a maniac.

“Theres a really posh club downstairs.” Zayn added, making Niall even more excited.

“I say, to kick off our break we go Extreme clubbing.” Niall suggested. Extreme clubbing was a game Niall and I had made to entertain ourselves while we toured. We would target a girl, and who ever could bring home the hottest won. I don't want to sound cocky here, but I always won.

“Okay, Lets do it.” I slipped on a plain white t shirt and dark jeans. Once we made it in the club, it was pretty mellow and chill, but when word spread we were there, things got a little crazy.

“I choose her.” Niall pointed to a lanky redhead, dancing with her friend.

“I'll go with..” I glanced around the club, uninterested with what I saw, till my eyes locked with a petite brunette sipping scotch alone in the V.I.P. section. “Her.” I muttered,”I'll go with her.”

Niall and I split up, I made my way to the brunette as he dashed over to the redhead. I took the seat next to her, as she poured herself more scotch.

‘I'm Harry.” I smiled and stuck my hand out to her.

“Stella.” She grumbled, sipping her drink. “Did my dad tell you to come here?” She asked, agitated.

“Um, no.” I replied, confused.”I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, thats exactly what they all say.” She stood up, suddenly unaware of her extreme alcohol level. “Shit.” She mumbled as her body heaved forward.

I stood up, and caught her. Her eyes darted up to mine as I felt her body warmth rush through my shirt.

“Thanks, but I think I got it.” She whispered, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, let me help you.” I looped my arm through hers and escorted her slowly out of the club.

“Really, Harry.” She locked eyes with me again, sending a small shiver down my spine. “Its fine. I don't want pictures of us surfacing.”

“So you know who I am?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

“Um, you're Harry?” She looked at me confused.

“I mean, you have no idea who I am..” I asked again.

“I don't read tabloids, if you're saying I should know who you are. You're britsh? ” She huffed, becoming impatient with our conversation.

“Never mind.” I walked on.”Then who are you?” I asked curious.

“Stella.” She replied simply, her eyes glued on her feet. I didn't want to push it so I dropped the subject. Once we made it to her room, I help her inside. It was massive compared to my suit.

“Nice place.” I shouted as she grabbed a water bottle for me and a glass of scotch for herself. I would have told her to slow down on the alcohol, but I didn't want to annoy her any more than I already had.

“Thanks.” She threw me the bottle and took a seat on the sofa next to me. I glanced around the room, admiring the intricate designs of the furniture and walls, when my eyes steered to a heavy mess of pictures that laid sprawled across her dining room table. I walked to the table, Stella following, utterly uninterested in my snooping.

“Whos this.” I asked, pointing at a small polaroid of a tan woman. She was at the beach, smiling and pointing at the person behind the camera.

“My mother.” Stella whispered, leaning into the table. “She was beautiful, huh?” She smiled, reminiscing about happier times, I assumed.

“And your Dad?” I asked, curious.

She stared at the pictures for a while, and dug around the heap of the mess.

“Here he is.” She pointed to a black and white picture of a tall, pale man. He sat alone at a large desk, his hands laid across his chest. He didn't even smile.

“He seems-” I whispered as Stella cut me off. “Heartless, cold, distant,” Her nose scrunched up as she chugged down the rest of her scotch. “He's all those things.”

I decided not to dig any deeper, and walked back to the sofa. Stella wanted to leave the subject just as fast as I wanted to. She ran off and came back with a vintage polaroid camera.

“Wanna model?’ She asked, playfully.

I snached the camera from her, as she danced around the room. Each picture came out more and more breathtakingly beautiful as she pranced, giggling. I decided my favorite was one of her laying on the floor, kicking her feet up in the air. Her hair was sprawled in every direction as she smiled widely at the camera. We laid the pictures out on the carpet, looking at every single one individually.

“We don't have one together.” Stella cocked her head to the side, confused.

“How could we forget,” I laughed, grabbing the camera and pointing it at our faces. Stella leaned in as I kissed her cheek and pressed the button. It was a classical couple picture, even though we weren't a couple.

It must have been about four in the morning when I woke up. Stella laid on the floor, a faint smile played across her lips. I couldn't help but stare at her for a while. Her long dark hair was a mess, and her dress had ridden up her stomach, revealing her black lace bra. My phone vibrated gently in my pocket as I slipped a blanket over Stella's body.

“Hello?” I asked through the phone, as I grabbed a pillow and gently placed it under her head.

“Where are you at, mate?’ Niall asked as I silently cursed myself.

“I stayed at this girls motel room, but i'll be down soon.” I confessed, glancing around the room.

“Oh, okay.” I could just see Nialls smile as he sarcastically said. “And by the way, Styles, I win this round of Extreme clubbing.”

“I don't think so.” I growled into the phone. “The rules are, whichever girl is hotter.”

“You also forgot the most important rule; you have to take her home.” Niall added, laughing.

“Okay.” I muttered, gazing at Stella as she slept. “You win.”

“Really?” Niall gasped into the phone, surprised at my sudden defeat.

“Yeah, you win.” I repeated, as Stellas body stirred under the blanket,”Look, I have to go.”

“But you just lost and I just wo-” I cut Niall of, ending the phone call.