Chapter Text
Tucked away on the ninth floor of the Syco Music recording studio, a boardroom of less than pleased PR representatives sat with their biggest problem clientele. At one end of the table sat the board of directors and publicity managers for One Direction and consequently Harry Styles, who was, at the moment, sitting at the other end of the table with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. It looked like twelve exhausted parents trying to convince their toddler that he needed to wear a coat outside, to no obvious avail.
Harry Styles sat slouched in his chair, clad in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and jeans, a far cry from his typical rock-star attire. He had stopped listening to the conversation a long time ago. They were saying something about sponsorships dropping away when he decided to tune them out. He focused his attention on the streets below him, lined with people enjoying the warm sun and start of the summer season.
Harry knew his band was probably sitting right outside the door- he wanted desperately to walk out of the meeting and go do something with his mates. Something fun. Not all this marketing and tour balderdash, just a nice place to shoot the shit with his friends and act his age without the media twisting it around.
“-And your stage antics have been getting out of hand! You can’t be making jokes like you did at the London show last month,” his PR Representative said, again. “You need to keep these shows family frien- Harry!”
Harry snapped from his daydreams.“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah, I’ll make sure to do that.”
The representative was an older man, far too out of touch for Harry’s liking. But time is experience and with all that experience he should be good at his job, he supposed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Harry, have you even been listening? Do you have any idea what this all means for you, for the band?”
“Yeah, relax, I have everything under control.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.
The representative sighed again, and a younger man spoke up. “Mr. Styles, this is all very serious, and you are not the only victim here.” The younger man started walking to the board at the head of the room and turned on a presentation. “This behavior is damaging your reputation and the public image of One Direction.” He clicked a clicker and several images of headlines and pictures of Harry with several women popped up on the screen. “You have been seen with eight women in the past ten weeks we’ve been in the UK. This kind of publicity is extremely counterproductive to the image we have been building of you five boys. All these years of hard work behind the scenes, just for you to throw it away in a few months? I don’t think that’s fair, do you, Mr. Styles?”
Harry pauses a minute before clicking his tongue and flashing a cheeky grin. “Well that's just rock and roll, isn’t it?”
“All it does,” he said, sitting back down, “is make you look undesirable. Girls want to feel like they have a chance with you. Teenagers come to your shows because they think you could be singing about them- that’s how this all works. No one has a fantasy of being the next girl Harry Styles throws away after three weeks.”
Harry’s smile faltered.
“It’s up to you what you do in your free time- but if it ends up on the front of a tabloid or affects any of the boys out there negatively, then I’m afraid you’ll be removed from the band.” The man sat back in his chair, satisfied that his words finally seemed to be getting through to the young rock-star. Harry clenched his jaw and was about to tune them out again, when his PR Rep spoke up again.
“That’s why I- why we- have decided you’re going to have closer eyes on you for the last leg of the world tour.”
“What are you talking about? What is he talking about?” Harry said, eyes darting around the men at the table.
“Harry-“ one of the men started before the younger representative interrupted him.
“We fired your manager. A collective decision really. You boys require discipline, and she clearly wasn’t adequate. It’s time for a new image, one that shows how mature and grounded you can be- and so far none of us have been able to do that. So we’ve decided to bring in the one man who can tame you lot.”
“Who?!” Harry shouted in frustration, standing up from the table.
The man smirked at him. “Thank you for coming in to speak with us, Mr Styles. It’s always a pleasure.”
“Bollocks is what it is!” Harry shouted as he stormed out of the room. As he slammed the doors open, he could hear the man say something about how ‘everyone is expendable,’ but he couldn’t care less anymore.
Just as he had thought before, he found all the boys sitting outside in the hallway, bored and twiddling their thumbs. Seeing them helped calm him a little, but he was still riled as they got up from their seats and walked with him to the elevator.
“Woah man, slow down!” Liam called after him.
They reached the elevator landing and hopped in, Harry pushing the button way too hard than necessary.
“You alright, man?” Zayn asked him, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“They want to tame me!” Harry scoffed. “They want to turn me into a puppet.” He was practically growling with anger and annoyance.
“I’m guessing going in with the wolves didn’t go as well as expected?” Louis spoke up.
“They threatened to kick me out of the band.” Harry turned to look at them. “That’s not even the worst part.”
The bandmates looked around each other with wide eyes, concerned for their friend.
Niall was the first to speak up. “C’mon, just lay it on us, Haz.”
He drew in a breath. “We’re due for a new manager, lads.” Harry winced. “And I think I know who they chose to do the honors.”