June 2, 2018
・❥・
RHIANNON CASTELLO
The sound of my phone ringing throughout my apartment awoke me, causing me to jump up out of my bed. I rub the heel of my hand against my forehead tiredly. I reach to my nightstand for my phone, but it isn't there.
I groan, getting out of bed and following the ringing noise through my apartment. I started to get annoyed that I couldn't find it. I go into my kitchen, seeing it buzzing on the counter. A number I don't recognize is displayed, but I answer anyway.
"Hello?"
"Is this Rhiannon Castello?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Great. I'm Freddie Pierce from Diamond Management. One of my clients and his band has sparked intrest in you to open his upcoming tour in the States. If you're interested, we'd love to meet with you."
"Sorry, someone wants me to open their tour?" I ask, completely confused now. I was probably just dreaming or something.
"Yes, Harry Styles and his band The Chain."
My mind froze for a second. My hand that was rubbing my forehead suddenly stopped, my body stiffening. My eyes were suddenly on red alert, no longer in their sleepy state. How fucking high did I get last night?
"Hello, Miss Castello? Are you there?"
Say something, Rhiannon.
"Yes, hi. Um, I'm just surprised, I guess. How does he—"
"Harry would be more than willing to answer any questions you have at the meeting. I'm aware you haven't done much outside of busking so there's a lot for us to discuss. So, are you interested?"
Is that even a question?
"Yes, of course. My schedule is cleared up today if you'd like to meet?" I respond, glancing at the planner on my counter that hasn't been touched since December last year.
"Today, 2 pm at Diamond Management okay?"
"Cool— I mean, yup, perfect. I'll be there," I laugh nervously.
"Great. See you soon, Miss Castello." And with that, the line goes dead.
"Miss Castello.." I repeat in a mocking posh voice. "Who says 'cool' to someone that calls them Miss Castello?" I mutter under my breath.
I walk over to my couch, sitting down, my head lolling up towards the ceiling. That can't be real, right? The Chain wants me to open their tour? Some sick joke, probably. I open my laptop sitting on the coffee table and decide to do some research. I type 'Freddie Pierce' into the search bar.
"Diamond Managment... The Chain's Manager... Sure, seems legit, I guess." I murmured, still half-asleep.
I take a glance at the clock, reading 12:36 P.M. I should probably get ready. I close my laptop and push it off my lap, heading to my bathroom. I cleaned myself up, doing my regular morning routine. I went to my closet and realized I didn't have anything that was extremely professional.
I kept browsing, deciding on blue bell bottomed jeans, a white vintage band tee, and blue Converse. I walk over to my full length mirror, brushing out my hair and pulling it into two separate sections. I braid one side, then the other, pulling the braids in front of my shoulders, I play with them making them messier and loose. I grab a dark blue corduroy baker boy hat I had laying around and put it on.
Can you tell my favorite color is blue?
I grab my white tote bag, throwing it on my shoulder and walking out the door. I lock my door behind me, walking down the stairs of my apartment complex. I walk through the lobby and on to the street, waving down a taxi. Pulling out my phone I search up the management office to get the address. A million thoughts racing through my head.
Mainly, what the fuck is going on.
I'm going to casually meet Harry Styles so he can convince me to go on tour with him. I get in the first taxi that pulled over, throwing my bag in next to me. "536, 5th Avenue" I tell the driver who simply nods and is on his way.
It was 1:34 now, it was a 10 minute drive not counting the city traffic. Chances of me making it on time are severely low. What a great first impression, Rhiannon.
My fingers tap nervously on my thighs, my brain on overdrive. How does he even know I exist? The phone call was so random and onimous too. Scared the shit out of me. I seriously can't believe this was happening.
And I don't think I will believe it until I walk through the office door and see Harry fucking Styles there to greet me. As much of an asshole as this guy is in the media, this could be huge for me. The Chain was kind of known for that shitty rockstar image. Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. He's constantly getting caught by the paparazzi doing things someone in a position like he is probably shouldn't do so publicly. But, he doesn't seem to give a care in the world.
This could be fun.
After what felt like forever, I managed to arrive at 1:53. I'll probably still somehow manage to be late. I grab my bag and throw cash at the driver before rushing out of the car. I walk up and push open a huge glass door, leading into a beautiful lobby. White marbled floors brighten the room. A huge, shining chandelier hangs above me. Leather couches and expensive paintings decorate the space. I see the receptonist desk at the far end of the lobby next to the elevator.
I walk up to the receptionist, a woman looking to be in her early 50's. She has red curly hair and colorful glasses. She adorns a pink floral dress. Her nails clicked on the keyboard in front of her, gum smaking between her teeth.
"Excuse me?" I say quietly.
She looks up, her glasses falling slightly on the bridge of her nose. "Hello, dear. How can I help?"
"Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Freddie Pierce?" I mutter in an unsure manor.
"Ah, yes. What's your name, dear?"
"Rhiannon Castello."
"Oh, right! He told me we'd be expecting you. Go ahead and head up to floor twenty-three." She informs, giving me a gracious smile.
I thank her and walk to the elevators, the reflective doors opening on command. I walk in and press that floor, standing in the middle of the elevator.
My foot taps anxiously against the tile, my eyes darting around the small confines to distract myself.
It wasn't working.
I resorted to humming a song to distract myself. The elevator soon dings, twenty-three shining in red brightly above the doors. I stepped out, onto more marble flooring, leading down a long hallway with doors left and right. I hesitantly walked down the hallway, looking at each name plaque on the doors. I walked about halfway down until I reached the correct door.
Freddie Pierce
Diamond Management
I swallowed my nerves although more seemed to seep through me by the second. I knocked on the door, hearing a soft "Come in."
My hand turned the knob, peeking in skeptically. I see a long wooden desk, a man who I assumed to be Freddie sitting behind it. I open the door all the way, still not stepping in. He has short hair, dyed a light pink which has slightly faded, round framed glasses perched on his nose. He has a slight, very slight, scruff growing on his face. He had on a white button up from what I could see, a pastel pink blazer hanging over the back of his chair.
Behind him were floor-to-ceiling windows, over looking the city. Tall buildings behind him, his hands crossed in front of him on his desk. His name is displayed on a plaque in front of him. There were records displayed along the walls and pictures of him with various successful artists. There were two chairs in front of his desk, though they were empty. He laughed at something, looking to the corner of the room.
My eyes turned to where he was looking and I saw someone I literally never imagined I would see in my lifetime.
Harry Styles sat on the brown leather couch in the corner of the room. He wore black pants that were hugging his legs, a Rolling Stones t-shirt covering his torso, a black leather jacket over top. If you looked closely, you could see tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the sleeves of his jacket. He had a pair of sunglasses on his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead and dirty white vans laced on his feet.
I finally got the courage to step all the way into the room when both of their eyes came to me. I felt extremely intimidated.
"Rhiannon." Harry smilied, saying my name like it was a revelation. "I'm Harry," he said, standing from his seat and walking over to me. I tried to act normal but it's kind of difficult when you're standing in front of a huge name in the music industry. His eyes were so captivating. They looked familiar almost.
I've always heard he was kinda cocky and bold. But in a charming way. That made me reluctant to work with him, we're very different people. And we're complete strangers.
I put my hand out in front of myself, offering a hand shake. "Yeah, thank you for the opportunity." He glanced down at my hand and looked back up me, giving me a nod and smile instead.
Freddie told us both to sit in the chairs in front of his desk. I sat down, still processing what the fuck was happening. Harry was so beautiful in person. I never was one to have celebrity crushes, but I didn't ignore the fact they were beautiful people.
I know some of The Chain's music, but I'm no expert. I mainly admire their success and dedication. Even though Harry could be an asshole sometimes based off of what paparazzi say, he's smart. He takes his job seriously and he's very good at it.
"So, Miss Castello. I'm sure you're very confused," Freddie begins.
"To say the least," I reply, smiling.
He nods, "I completely understand. Harry saw you performing in the subway yesterday and thought you were incredible. We don't have an opening performer and the US tour starts in just a few days. He swore up and down he'd find someone and here you are," Freddie explained.
He saw me perform yesterday? I tried to rack my brain but I had no recollection of him being there. I think I would've noticed if Harry Styles was watching me sing in the middle of a New York subway.
I sighed, looking between the both of them. Harry gave a tight lipped smile, his elbows leaning against his spread knees.
"I can answer any questions you've got," Harry spoke up.
"Yeah, why do you want me to take this job?"
He smiles, leaning back in his seat. "You captivated the crowd. Everyone was watching your every move. Your voice is outstanding and it's in perfect contrast with our music."
I nodded, showing my understanding. But it still made no sense. I'm not trained like he is and I'm sure the rest of the band is. I didn't take expensive singing lessons like I'm sure he did. I only taught myself to play guitar when I was thirteen and figured out I could sing. And now Harry Styles is asking me to play in sold out arenas with him.
"You are aware I have no experience, right? I'm one hundred percent self-taught. I've never performed in front of a crowd bigger than maybe thirty people," I reason.
"I know," Harry responds, a smirk present on his features.
"We know, Miss Castello—"
"Sorry, please call me Rhiannon. It feels weird when people call me Miss Castello," I chuckle lightly.
"Of course. We know you have no experience. I was very surprised Harry pushed to have you be our opener, but when he's fixated on something he's usually right," Freddie elaborates.
"So, will you do it?" Harry asks eagerly, practically bouncing in his seat.
"Woah, woah. Slow down. I don't even know what questions to ask," I hault him quickly.
"You're right. We'll explain anything that comes to mind and you can ask all the questions you'd like," Freddie responds, calming down a bit.
"The tour is about two months long. We start in Dallas, Texas on June 6th. Then wrapping it up in Los Angeles, California in July. And you're dropping an album first day of tour, it's perfect. We have a show about every other day and the in between days are the days we go to the next city." Harry explained.
"I just, I can't leave everything here. My best friend, Kairi, she's here in New York. I just don't know if I could be gone that long," I reason.
"She can come too! The more the merrier," Harry replies, his tone veering on snarky and back handed.
"What?" Freddie said, his eyes turned to Harry now.
"Can your friend play an instrument?"
"Um, yeah actually. She plays bass, she's really good. Her dad was a jazz singer in New Orleans back in the 70's, taught her everything she knows," I explain with a shrug.
Harry tossed his hands up in the air, smirking at Freddie. "It couldn't be more perfect. She can come play bass with us. Zayn plays bass but I'll just give him a harmonica or something," He mutters, flailing his hand around dismissively.
"Harry, you can't just—" Freddie cuts in only to get cut off by Harry again.
"Zayn won't mind. Rhiannon, I really want you on this tour, okay? You wanna bring your friend, fine, I don't care, just join the tour," He pleads, his eyes boring into mine. His eyes hold a slight tinge to them, they looked doe and innocent as he begs for me to join tour. But, something about him just seems off.
Freddie and Harry continued to explain the ins and outs of tour. Once they wrapped it up, Freddie pulled out a thick packet of paper.
"That's your contract. I can only imagine how overwhelming this is. Sleep on it," He smiled sweetly.
Harry grabbed a business card from the little container on Freddie's desk. He grabbed a pen, pulling the cap off with his teeth. His mouth remained parted around the cap as he wrote on the back of the card. He closed the pen, throwing it onto Freddie's desk. The card sat pinched between his index and middle finger, out for me to take.
I took it from his hand and he smiled, almost condescendingly. I examine the back of the card seeing a phone number I presume to be Harry's on the back.
I clear my throat, stuffing the card in my back pocket. I stand up from my seat, grabbing the packet of papers. I walked to the door, I could feel both their gazes on my back. I placed my hand on the door knob, turning to look at them before exiting.
"I'll think about it."
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a/n: first official chapter!! :)