Vacation Styles

*Three- Snooty Booty*

My eyes keep searching for which one of these rushed people is Mr. Styles son. There's so many bodies swarming around, it's hard to pick out someone that could possibly be him. I spot a very strange looking boy who's making our way. He's wearing these very baggy, dirty clothes with very sexual pictures viewed on them. His large headphones are covering his ears an his long hair is covering half his face.

He approaches us and he stops right in front of me and I quickly reach my hand out to greet the strange boy that I would've never guessed was Mr. Styles son.

"Uhmm, hi! I'm Olivia." I say cheerfully and he looks at my hand before looking back up to me. He looks at me like I'm the weirdest person in the world and ignores my hand before continuing his path, down a few chairs from us where he later greets his friends.

"Olivia, Harry's right here." Mr. Styles leans into my ear and embarrassment floods my body.

I attempt a laugh to Mr. Styles to make it less awkward before turning and looking in the direction where his finger is pointing. A few feet away, my eyes find a much more attractive looking guy then the last one I thought was Harry.

"That makes more sense." I laugh as I take in his appearance. He's pacing across the floor, looking at his surroundings almost in a hurried way. He looks irritated and he has these loose, fluffy curls that look like he has been running his hand through them multiple times. He's wearing a white undershirt with a plaid button-up over it and his jeans are clung very tightly to his legs; they actually look very uncomfortable, for him. He's carrying a bag on his shoulder and as he makes eye contact with his father, his speed picks up and the clanking of his leather boots grow as he gets closer.

"God, finally I found you. People here are so infuriating. Some kid spilled his juice box on me and a lady ran over my foot with her damn stroller." He scowls at his father as if it's his fault. Jeez, this kids a crabby shit.

His eyes find mine and he looks at me confused for a second, but then a some sort of realization kicks in his face, "Thank god you hired an assistant to help us through this." He takes a step toward me and pushes his heavy bag into my chest. I let out a hard breath as the bag hits me in an unkindly way. "Don't let it touch the ground. This place is filth. That reminds me, why aren't we taking the jet?" He asks annoyed and my irritation grows for him. This kid is an ungrateful bitch. I don't want to spend two weeks with him. I don't even want to spend two seconds with him. I can't stand snooty rich people!

"Son, there's something I need to tell you." Mr. Styles breaths and I can tell he looks nervous to speak.

"Don't tell me we are riding coach." Harry whines.

"No, of course not." Mr. Styles states. "Can I talk to you over here for a second?" He places his hand on his shoulder before pushing Harry and him to the opposit side of the room. I'm glad he's going to tell him away from me. I don't want to see this kids reaction. He'll probably stomp his feet like a little kid and whine until he gets his way.

Once they were far away enough from me, and I couldn't hear their voices, I dropped Harry's stupid bag on the ground, not caring that he told me not to and quickly whipped my phone out from my bag on the chair.

"Dad! What the hell!" I yell into the phone in a hushed tone once he picked up my call.

"What's up?" He asks muffled and I can tell he has a mouth full of food.

"You suck! That's what's up!"

"What's wrong?" He says more clearly and worry laces in his voice.

"You didn't tell me this kid is a ungrateful brat." I look over to Mr. Styles and Harry to make sure they didn't hear me. Harry's back is facing me and I can only see Mr. Styles face. His emotion is rather apologetic and I wonder what his son's face looks like right now. By the way he is standing though with his arms crossed, I can tell he is pissed.