Hello, hello :) 

I decided to write some bonus scenes because I was bored. In honor of getting 1K views on this poorly written story, here's the scene set the day after the last chapter (but pre-epilogue). Enjoy and look out for more! 

~

I'm fine. Everything's fine. I'm totally not hyperventilating in bed, in a burrito of silk sheets and self-pity.

Everything's totally fine.

It's the morning after Harry's new music video was published. Last night, I was on an adrenaline high. Not only was it the sweetest and most shocking thing I'd ever seen, but it was probably the craziest thing too.

I wasn't mad. In fact, I was so grateful that he decided to rip the bandaid off. So grateful that I definitely showed him last night.

And now, I'm lying in bed with an ache not only between my legs, but in my skull as well.

Last night, I didn't think about the consequences. Last night, Harry took my phone away from me.

This morning, I have to face reality.

A groan leaves my lips as I stretch and feel around for my phone. My hand is only met with the smooth silk. I prop myself onto my elbows, the blanket pooling around my waist, and look around the room. It's messy, but my phone isn't in sight.

Ugh.

"Good morning, beautiful," Harry smiles as he walks back into the room holding a steaming mug. I silently pray it's coffee. I'm still not a huge fan of tea and coffee's probably the only thing that's going to ease the dull ache behind my temples.

I hold out my hands and take the mug from him. He steals a kiss on my forehead before settling near my sprawled-out legs. His large hand rubs my calves from over the blanket.

"How are you feeling?" he gently asks. It's like he knows I'm about to crash and burn in my own subconscious.

He isn't wrong.

I shrug and wait for the burn sliding down my throat to clear before answering. "I'm feeling like this was a mistake."

He looks absolutely crestfallen.

"No," I say quickly, using my free hand to put over his knee. "No, not that. Not you. I'm glad we told everyone."

His features school into relief. "Then what's the problem?"

I groan again and set the mug on the bedside table before reassuming my burrito position. Normally I'd hide behind a facade of confidence. I'd pretend that I'm fine when I'm really not. However, that always hurts me more.

I need to be more open, especially with Harry. I'm officially done hiding my feelings. Pure transparency from here on out.

"I'm scared." My voice comes out muffled against the pillows.

"El." Harry lays down next to me, over the blankets because I'm hogging them all. His hand skims the general area of where my shoulder should be. I can't look at him so I keep my face buried in the pillow. "Look at me," he orders gently.

I sigh and do as he says.

"Did I force this on you? Was it too soon? I thought you were ready."

"I am ready," I say as I squirm toward him as much as I can. "I'm just nervous. Everyone's going to hate me."

"Not everyone," he immediately says, but even I can hear the wariness in his tone.

"Harry, I've seen your fans. I've witnessed them. They can be so ruthless when it comes to your girlfriends."

This is more than true. Before I had found Harry, I always heard Lily groaning about his latest arm candy. She wasn't overly judgemental, but she surely didn't like the girls. Lily was definitely one of the more mellow fans so I couldn't even imagine the intense ones' reaction.

He chuckles, his hand sliding down the length of my blanketed body. "But they weren't my soulmate now, yeah? Plus the good ones will be happy for me."

"And what about the crazy, psycho ones?"

He has no response. How could he? I'm not being fair. I said I was ready and here I am, being bitchy as fuck. None of this is his fault.

"I'm okay," I add as a white flag. "I know it'll take some adjustment, but I'll get over it... eventually."

I said I'm being truthful, right?

He winces, probably remembering my past. After all, I had let everyone walk all over me. They influenced my opinions and my self-worth. But I'm better now. No one can control me but me. And sometimes Harry.

Honestly, therapy does wonders. Therapy, self-love, and time.

"But," I continue, "I need to see my phone in order for this to work. I just need to get it out of the way."

"Ellie–"

"Come on, Harry. We both know it's better to rip off the bandaid, right?" I nervously bite my lip as I look up at him. It occurs to me then that there's a reason he's being so hesitant. "You've seen stuff. Is it that bad?"

"Mixed," he says truthfully. Contemplation flickers on his face before he lets out a long sigh. "Fine, I'll give it back. But you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"If you ever doubt yourself, even for a second, you tell me. I do not want you going around believing the shit people are saying, you understand? I know you best, not them, and I know what's best for me. You're best for me."

"Okay," I say quickly. Anything to just get this over with.

"Ellie."

"Okay!" I repeat with more inflection. "Okay, I promise."

"And I know I won't be able to understand sometimes," he adds softly, his fingers now holding my chin. They're warm from the coffee he made earlier. "If that's the case, you need to talk to other people. It can be Eleanor or Perrie or someone else, but I want you to talk. Hell, if you want, I'll find you the best Hollywood therapist. I heard Kim Kardashian has a good one."

I crack a smile for the first time today. "Yeah, she has to deal with Kanye all the time."

He smiles back at me, a bit bewildered. He obviously didn't expect me to be so okay with all of this. "Okay, now I'm fairly confident you'll be okay. I've already taken the entire week off so we can stay in. Or we can go out, but I understand if you're not ready for that."

Wow. The whole week? I'm genuinely flattered.

"Let's start with the phone." I let out a shaky breath and watch him fish it out of his pockets.

The weight feels heavy in my hands. It's turned off, and for a second, I feel relieved at the chance it might be dead. Then the Apple logo pops up against the black screen and all relief is gone.

Ugh.

We both sit up, me between his legs. I lean back on his chest and feel the outline of his chin on my neck, the curl of his hair tickling my ear. His arms wrap around my waist much tighter than necessary, which goes to show he's nervous for me. That only makes me more nervous.

But it also makes me feel protected. I know that he can't physically guard me from every insult thrown my way, but I sure know that he can shield me with his love, as cheesy as that sounds.

"Which app is the best to start off with?" I ask as I enter my passcode. Most of my friends and family knew that I'd want to be away from my phone afterward so I'm not flooded with messages. There are a few from old acquaintances that make me laugh. Apparently, I've been promoted to Shelby from Calc's best friend. "Instagram?"

"I've turned off comments," Harry says apologetically. My account's private so there's probably nothing there except for hundreds of pending requests.

"Twitter's brutal," I point out.

"Do people still use Tumblr anymore?"

I lock my phone and toss it toward the edge of the bed. The heels of my palms dig into my eyebrows as I sigh. "How about I ask Lily? She won't sugarcoat it but she can't be mean... right?"

"How about we just become recluses and live off the grid? No phones, no internet."

"As much as I'd love that," I angle my head to give him a quick kiss. "We can't. Your talent would go to waste. How about Facebook? No one uses that anymore."

He gives a flat look.

"Okay, okay. Let's do twitter." I use my foot to nudge my phone toward me. It's a very cavewoman-ly action.

The blue app taunts me as my finger hovers over it. My eyes clamp shut and I press down.

It's open.

Opening one eye, I squint to see my feed. There's an overwhelming amount of numbers under my notification tab. I've never had it this high before. The most likes I've probably gotten on a tweet is five.

I'm not the funniest person out there.

"Hey, remember our first date?" Harry asks above my shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"You DMed me on twitter."

The memory flashes behind my eyes. I grin as I recall the day. "I DMed you and you showed up at my door at six in the morning. How could I forget?" I laugh.

He kisses the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. I reluctantly drag my eyes back to my phone and hold my breath.

I click the small bell and immediately the tweets start flowing in. All these people tagged me in their posts. I click on the most recent.

@HarryCherry: who does this bitch think she is??!? she's a nobody.

A humorless laugh escapes me. Of course, the first one I had to click on was hate.

@HannahBanana: harry could do so much better

@1DWhore: another LA bimbo? sigh :(

"I'm starting to think I won't see any positive ones," I murmur. I can feel Harry's gaze peering into my phone over my shoulder. Even though I'm not looking at him, I can sense his anger too.

I continue scrolling. Most are similar – hate directed toward me. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt as bad as I thought. It might be because it's exactly what I expected. Sure, I feel deflated every time I read something negative, but it doesn't make me want to hide away and block everyone out so I guess that's an improvement.

"Wait, wait, wait," Harry says, interrupting my absent scrolling. He takes the phone from my hand and rests his arm on my stomach as he scrolls up just a bit. "Look."

@TPWKAmy: is it just me or does Ellie look like one of the sweetest people ever?

A warm feeling spreads through my chest and only grows when he clicks on the replies.

@HxS: YESS!!!! I WANNA BE FRIENDS W HER SO BAD

@sweetcreature: totally! they look so good together!

@callmebaby: I don't know about this girl but Harry looks genuinely so happy, so we should be happy too.

"See? They're not all bad," Harry says as he locks my phone and sets it beside me. "There are some rotten eggs but slowly everyone will get used to you."

I nod against his chest and slump deeper into him. I didn't realize it until now but not having the entire world against me is quite a relief. Sure, there are ten times more bad messages than good, but at least I know someone's giving me a chance.

And I'm going to prove it to them.

"What's Tom saying about our next steps?"

"Well, he's got loads of ideas. But you don't have to do anything until you're completely comfortable."

Hell no. This isn't the attitude I need. Nope. I'm Ellie Marsh, people pleaser. I will do everything in my power to get people to like me, even if they are thirteen-year-olds hiding behind Twitter icons.

"I'm ready. Let's do this."

He looks down at me in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And let's start with a date tonight. Somewhere my public. My treat." I add in a wink just for fun.

In one swift movement, he rolls us over and hovers over me with a grin on his face. "Fine, but I'm paying."

"Oh? Did you assume I was?" I innocently bat my lashes at him.

He tilts his head in momentary confusion. "You said it was your treat."

"Yeah... Meaning I'm the treat."

He gives me a flat look but that hardly lasts a second. His lips split into a shit-eating grin and before I know it, I'm being tackled with kisses.

This is so worth it.

~~~

*Two weeks later*

A brush of powder against my nose. Lips refreshed in a modest pink. Hair curled effortlessly.

I thought working with Daffodil had prepared me for everything, but that was far from the truth. Here I am, about to step foot on a talk show, and I am terrified.

The tools are brought away from my face as two large hands curl around my shoulders from behind. From my reflection, I see Harry standing behind me with a proud grin. He leans forward and kisses the crown of my head.

"You're going to do amazing."

"Yeah," I lamely reply as I look at the makeup on my face. It's nothing too fancy, mostly so I don't get washed out under the studio lights.

Tom appears in my peripheral vision. The poor guy is now practically taking on two clients for the price of one. Harry's lucky he found such an accommodating manager. I have no idea who else would put up with his broodiness and lack of appreciation.

"Okay, remember Ellie, they're only going to ask you the pre-scripted questions," he gently informs me.

On my back, Harry begins massaging like I'm a boxer about to step into the ring. It feels more than good.

"Don't worry, Tom. I know how all this"– I make a vague gesture around us–"works. I've been in the industry for a while." Working on the sidelines, of course. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, but I also felt as if I had a good hold on things. Harry and I rehearsed what I was going to say a million times. Plus I didn't get stage fright often. 

"Oh, I know. I'm confident in you," Tom says with a wolfish grin. He proceeds to clap Harry on the back. "It's him I'm worried about. He looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel because he isn't going up with you."

Right. That's another thing. We both thought it was best if I went on alone. The interview was about Harry and me but we both feared that the audience would be too distracted by him to pay attention to me. Normally I wouldn't mind, but this whole interview was set up so the fans could get to know our relationship from my point of view. The production studio was actually the one to suggest it.

"I just think that it would be better if they saw us both together," Harry mumbles moodily even though the decision was mutual.

"Yeah, but then Piper will get into a whole spiel about you and this is Ellie's day," Tom says. "But, if she fucks up, you walk on stage and clear the scene."

"Tom!" Harry groans at the same time I say, "I won't."

"I'm just saying," he throws up his hands in an innocent gesture and begins walking backward. "Ellie, good luck. I'll be watching from the green room."

And then he's gone.

A lady with a very official-looking earpiece approaches us. "You're on in two."

I nod and look at my reflection one last time. Butterflies erupt in my stomach when I see Harry looking down at me with such intensity.

"You'll do great," he says one last time.

"Thank you," I exhale and stand up. He gives me a hug and kisses the top of my head one last time before the worker comes and collects me. I hear some soft squeals coming from the staff, no doubt after witnessing that.

Piper's Patio is an infamous talk show that hosts multitudes of celebrities. The host, Piper, is a sweet lady who looks like she means all business. She gives me newscaster vibes with her short blond bob and pencil skirt. When she sees me, she gives me a collected smile.

"Alright, Ellie. You've already been drafted about the whole thing. What you'll do is sit on this cushion and angle your knees toward me, okay? And always look into that camera." She points to a camera angled center stage. "Or if you're speaking with me, the other camera will pick that up. Don't worry about that."

"Okay."

"Alright, five seconds!"

Someone counts down, silently mouthing the last number. Piper's face morphs to be camera-ready and then she's off. I'd be impressed by her abilities if I hadn't seen Daffodil change from angry to charming the moment a camera was shoved in her face.

"Alrighty, folks. I have a treat for you all," Piper says into an angled camera. "You all remember the debut of the Golden music video by Harry Styles. Well, we have the star of the show on with us today! Everybody, meet Ellie Marsh, the soulmate of Harry Styles!"

The audience applauds politely before cutting off. I can feel their intense eyes on me, and even more from the screen. Millions of people must be watching me from their living room or on their phones or even random bars.

Oh god.

"Ellie, thank you for being on the show today."

"Thanks for having me! I'm honored to be here."

Piper smiles before doing a small introduction of today's show. I politely pretend I'm listening while sweat skims my palms. I almost go to wipe them on my dress before remembering I'm wearing a light color that'll probably stain.

"Now, our first question." Piper conspiratorially leans in. "How did you two meet?"

I let out a sigh of relief. This seems easy. There are no manipulations, no twists to the story. I explain our first meeting, everything from the concert to the way he visited me at work. I even mention how reluctant I was to actually date him. Some of the audience gasps but I can barely hear them over my pounding heart.

We cycle through some more questions. I'm completely in my element, thanks to all the practicing. Sure, I feel intimidated doing this in front of a live audience, but the words pour out of me on pure instinct.

"Wow," Piper beams before checking her watch. "It seems like we have a few extra minutes! How about we have a live Q&A with the audience?"

Beyond the cheers of excitement, I feel myself stiffen up. A live Q&A sounds like a disaster, especially because I won't have time to word my answers properly. Even from the side of the stage, I see Harry tense up. Tom stands behind him, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry immediately shrugs it off.

He's scared for me, I realize. He's moments away from coming on this stage and stopping it all.

I lock eyes with him and subtly shake my head. If I want them to like me, I need to try. Truth is, these people aren't going away. They come with his lifestyle. I have to be the one to adjust.

I paint my lips into the brightest smile I have as a spotlight flashes on an audience member. She grabs the microphone from a staff member and looks directly at me.

I gulp.

"If you claim that you're the one who broke up with Harry, why did you move to California? It's obvious he was going to be here. It seems a little desperate to me..."

My throat suddenly feels dry. I thought we'd start off with more innocent questions, but it seems like we're jumping right in.

"Hi," I smile, attempting to compose myself. "Yeah. You're right. Harry would totally be in L.A. See, the thing is, he actually enjoys London more. He's a big mama's boy and loves, loves, loves spending time with Anne and Gemma. When I decided to move here, I just assumed we'd never meet. We didn't run in the same social circles, and honestly, I just came here for a job." I shrug. "But there might've been a part of me that hoped to see him anyway? Isn't that how it is with soulmates? I couldn't stay away."

The girl opens her mouth to ask something else but the tech member takes the microphone back before she can utter another word. It's passed down to someone else.

"Hi, I want to start off by saying I'm kinda obsessed with you."

My cheeks warm immediately. The thin burden the first girl laid on me has completely disappeared by a small compliment. "Thank you, I think."

The girl giggles before continuing. "Anyway, I was wondering if you can share your funniest moment with us?"

Suddenly, nothing funny has ever happened in my life.

My brows furrow as I dig through my brain for something to entertain them. Hm...

My spine snaps straight as I lean in to gain anticipation. It works, as I feel the entire audience lean in with me. Hell, even Piper looks intrigued.

"So, it was one of the first dates we went on when Harry and I got back together. It was a picnic under the stars, super romantic and all. Then, as the night goes on, it starts to get a little steamy, if you know what I'm saying." I smirk a little. The audience goes wild with their hoots. "Things are progressing and all of a sudden, I see my bra get thrown. You're probably thinking it landed a few feet away, but no. Harry literally thought the best solution was to throw it over the cliff."

There's an overwhelming mix of hoots and whistles and laughs.

"It was my favorite bra too!" I add, getting an even better reaction. Pride swells in my chest. I know their opinions don't really matter, but I really want to be liked by them.

The girl thanks me with a big smile before having someone else come up. It's a boy this time. "Have you ever watched the movie After by any chance?"

The audience knowing snickers as if they're sharing an inside joke.

"No, why?" I innocently cock my head before breaking into a smile. "Kidding. That's a funny story, actually. When I was dating someone in college, we watched the entire movie before he told me it was based on Harry Styles fanfiction. I nearly had a stroke."

Everyone laughs again and I feel myself vibrating with satisfaction.

There's time for one more question. A girl, roughly eighteen, steps up. Her mean look directly toward me makes my heart stop.

It doesn't take a genius to know I'm about to receive a hit.

"Rumor has it, you were poor before you met Harry," she starts off. "How do we know you aren't with him for the money and fame? How do we know you aren't lying? That you're not just a gold-digging bitch–"

"Okay!"

A loud cheer interrupts the girl as Harry walks on to stage. His face is thunderous as he faces the girl. I stand up and entwine our fingers, mostly so he realizes where we currently are.

He's upset by her. I am too, honestly, but we can't deal with this like that. We're supposed to be the mature ones.

"Listen," Harry says as the cheers quiet down. The girl has the nerve to shyly avert her gaze. "I can handle a lot of things. I can handle Ellie joking about me on live TV and sharing our secrets" –his eyes are filled with tenderness and amusement as he looks down at me, so I know he isn't actually offended–"and I can handle a lot more, but it's not really fair to her. Ellie has been really strong throughout this. You guys get to see this amazing, bubbly version of her all the time, but you don't see how your words affect her. And she'll kill me for coming up to save her because she's the last person who needs saving–"

The audience quietly laughs.

"–but I need to. I want to." He looks down at me with intense emotions before facing the audience again. "I'm normally not the type to get into her business, but I will only say this once. Ellie and I are happy together. I promise you that I'm not stupid enough to live my life with a woman who doesn't love me back. And I love all you guys and your support, but she will always come first. You can say whatever you want about me, but keep her out of it. I want your support in our journey, and I love sharing my life with you all, but you need to remember that we're people too."

The girl turns red as she hands the microphone back. I see her mouth 'sorry' and I nod once to acknowledge her.

The rest goes by in a blur. Piper concludes the segment and dismisses us from the stage. Harry drags me off stage and I feel his lips graze my knuckles.

"I'm so sorry," he says as he pulls me into his arms. "That live session wasn't supposed to be a thing."

"Ellie!" Tom frantically calls from somewhere else. Harry squishes me so tight that I can't lift my head to find him. "They went off script! I'm going to have a few words with them, don't you worry."

"Tom," Harry sharply says, dismissing him with the tone of voice. He must take the hint because I hear no other apologies. "I'm so sorry. I saw the color drain out of your face and I needed to be next to you," Harry rambles on, stroking my hair.

"Harry," I respond, my voice muffled by his chest. He loosens his grip just enough so I can breathe. "It's not your fault. And while what you did was tremendously stupid, it's okay. I needed a little help."

He kisses the top of my head but I stretch to meet his lips. My makeup doesn't matter anymore. He smiles against my mouth.

"I would've done so much more."

"I know," I laugh. "I could feel you getting ready to jump her."

His smile widens as his shoulders slump with relief. He strokes my flyaways away from my face. "They love you, you know?"

"What? No." Did he not witness that trainwreck five seconds ago?

"They did." He enthusiastically nods. "Swear on my life. I can tell you won everyone's heart today."

"You think?"

"I know. I think the bra story really sold it."

I quietly laugh as I squeeze him harder. God, I love him. If there's anyone by my side, protecting my honor, I'm so glad it's him.

~~~

It seems my appearance on Piper's Patio is a hit. Most people swoon over how Harry saves me from the big, bad wolves, but a lot of people take his words to heart. The messages on Twitter get nicer and nicer.

It might also have to do with the fact that I provide them with the Harry content they so-desperately miss since my boyfriend never posts anything on social media. I decided to create a separate Instagram account that anyone can follow. I only really post content of Harry and me on there, while my private account has more personal stuff.

I get a bunch of DMs thanking me for my service, which makes me laugh. Harry hardly knows what's going on. He never questions the secret photos I take of him, thank God.

It gets to the point where things mellow out. I occasionally get a dirty look on the street or a mean tweet, but nothing too heartbreaking.

Harry's also been patient with me. He knows that sometimes I'm having a bad day, and seeing a comment like that breaks my heart. He doesn't question me as he wraps me in thick blankets and makes me coffee. All he does he pull me against his chest until the day starts anew and I move on.

I'm very lucky to have him.

But today is one of those days. I had a meeting with Daffodil and some business partners. I felt neglected through the entirety of the day and seeing a comment about how I wasn't even worth a fraction of Harry had really sent me off.

And then whereas Harry normally picks me up after work, he can't today. He's caught on an international video call and can't leave the house. It's like the cherry on top of a terrible day. It's so bad that my eyes blur with tears on the walk home.

When I get home, I can hear Harry wrapping up his call. I don't want to disturb so I go straight to our bedroom and wrap myself in the covers. I had three shots of espresso today but suddenly I'm exhausted.

He crawls into bed with me five minutes later. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Instinctively I roll around into his awaiting arms. "Bad day."

A comforting silence follows. I inhale deeply, his scent swirling through my nose. It helps me relax even more.

"You know how I was labeled as a womanizer?" When I nod, he inhales. "There's a reason for that. My fans, God, I loved them, but they shipped me with everyone. And by everyone, I mean the boys."

"Oh," I whisper. I didn't know that.

"It was sick, really. Eleanor was always bullied because everyone thought Louis and I were meant to be."

My brows raise. I go to pull away from his chest to meet his eyes, but he pulls me tighter. I realize that he may need this more than me, so I go slack in his arms.

"It got insane, so management decided to label me as a playboy. Girl after girl, I was seen with as many as possible. It helped a bit, but not much. But it was hard. I hated the fact that my life was controlled by a bunch of strangers that didn't know me."

Huh, I could imagine.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, but it doesn't feel like enough.  A surge of protectiveness washes over me. It's not fair that the industry got to ruin him like that. He didn't seem bothered by the speculations, but rather the way it was handled. 

"I got used to it because, you know, I love women," he cheekily adds, kissing my head. "But I wish I didn't have that title to my name. It ruined so many things."

Like when he had to fake-date Trina. Like when I had first met him and didn't think he was serious about us. 

He's quick to change the topic. "I'm glad you decided to come out about us. I love being known as your man."

I choke out a laugh. "I'm pretty sure I'm known as your woman and not the other way around."

"Nope." He finally releases me and rolls me onto my back, him hovering above. He bends down just enough to have his nose skim mine. "I am fully yours. You ask to move to Alaska? I'm right beside you. You want a houseful of cats even though I'm deathly allergic? I'll survive on Allegra for the rest of my life. You are the northern star and I'm the compass, desperately trying to follow you."

Poof. My bad day is gone, just with a few whimsical words coming from Harry's mouth.

I wrap my arms around his neck. "You'd really get a cat?"

He scrunches his nose but nods regardless. "Yes, but I suppose you're more of a dog person."

My face splits into the widest grin. "You're right." Then I pull him down to kiss the living daylights out of him because I'm utterly obsessed with him and I don't think I'll ever stop.

He's wrong. I would never ask him to do something for me, but I'd follow him into a burning building if that's what he wants. I might be his northern star but he's my moon, illuminating everything in the darkness.