Isn't She Lovely (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 8: Simon Says

Chapter 8:

Simon Says

The rest of the weekend at the Bungalow went incredibly well, so well in fact, that we were thinking about doing it again before we set out on tour later in the year. It was a good way to relax and just hang out after such a long, amazing tour and it would be a great way to get together and gear up for the next one when it was time. Of course, things were a little different having Layla around. For one, we had to be careful. Really careful. I didn't let her play outside or really leave the house at all in fear that some fan would take a picture or someone would see her and things would spiral out of control. Layla didn't mind of course, but it made it harder for us to go out and enjoy ourselves like we normally would have. Not only that, but I had to worry about her getting into things. The house wasn't exactly child friendly. And the constant attention a child needed, whether that being fed, bathed, changed, or just attention period, but it wasn't all that difficult. I suppose either I lucked out or Lacey was a better mother than she gave herself credit for. Layla was well behaved. She listened, most of the time, and seemed to really enjoy being here and having the boys around. I'm sure in her eyes they were more people to play with.

But eventually it was time to return back home. We all said our goodbyes and Layla and I returned back to mum's place. By then she was home, eager to see Layla, and life resumed. Only, that night I called up our management team, letting them know that there was something I wanted to discuss with them soon, alone. Making that damn phone call itself was nerve wracking. I couldn't even comprehend what it would be like sitting there in front of them all. Unfortunately, I didn't even have much time to. A meeting was schedules a few days later in the Syco Music's headquarters with Mr. Simon Cowell himself. Lovely.

The days seemed to pass by in a fast blur. In all honesty, I spent most of the time to myself trying my best to prepare for what was in store for me. Mum took care of Layla and I fretted about just what to say. 'I'm sorry, I have a child?' No. 'An old fling ended up pregnant and now I've got a kid? Trust me, I was just as surprised as you.' That wouldn't work either. Eventually though, it was time.

I sat outside of the main conference room in the lobby in a plush, comfortable looking chair. I was way too nervous to even think about getting comfortable though. I sat with my elbows resting atop my knees, my head down looking at my phone as I reread messages, trying to keep busy, trying to keep my mind occupied and not on my impending doom. I chewed at my bottom lip, my heart already beating hard inside my chest. I decided to, kind of, dress up for the occasion. A nice pair of dark pants, a white top, and a blazer over it.

Simple, but effective.

I almost jumped when my phone suddenly buzzed in my hands, so on edge. Sighing heavily I opened the message that I noticed was from my mom, reading it quickly: 'AHBNHnjnioifgytHbtT kmjnk TGWAanjnsl' "What...?" I muttered to myself, unable to make any sense out of the jumble of letters. It buzzed suddenly again, another message from mum: 'That was from Layla. I'm pretty sure it translates to: Good luck, we love you, and try not to worry :) You've got this hun.' I couldn't help but smile a bit at the message, shaking my head slightly before replying: 'K... Thanks mum :) You too Ladybug'

I hit send before looking up at the sound of my name, seeing the receptionist approaching. "You can go on in Harry, they're ready to see you." I nodded my head in thanks before reluctantly standing up, taking a deep breath and smoothing my hands over my pants. I could do this. They wouldn't compeltely kill me... right? I swallowed hard before giving the woman a small smile, tucking my phone away in my pocket and making my way to the large set of doors that led into the main conference room of the building.

The room itself was pretty huge, the walls painted a light blue, one wall nearly lined with windows to let in all the light it could. It had a very business-y kind of feel, especially with the long sleek rectangular conference table dead in the center of the room. A table that was actually full of familiar faces. Our management team sat at one end, Simon Cowell at the very head of the table, his hands clasped looking seriously bored, as always. I raised my hand in a small wave, nervously taking a seat and pulling up to the table. My heart was racing. I could feel it, hear it pounding in my ears as I set my hands in my lap, fiddling with my fingers under the table. I could do this.