Harry Styles Paparazzi Novels & Stories

I take a deep breath, feeling defeated and just as I’m about to turn the TV off, the screen shifts and Harry appears. My spine straightens, every muscle on alert as I watch his smug face fill the frame as reporters swarm him outside some gleaming building. “Did you meet the mystery woman Chase was with last night? What can you tell us about her?” Harry pauses, turning slowly toward the cameras, wearing a smile I used to mistake for charm. “Yes, I met her. Lovely woman. I just hope she knows what she’s getting herself into with Chase Sterling. He’s known for parading women around and tossing them aside when he gets bored.”

The red Ferrari of the latest edition with its open sunroof showing off that great lean body was more than enough to keep the cameras and the lively attention of every being. However, Harry shared no part of this pomp, instead acted more like a servant than an assistant. Out he walked, dressed in those same suit and tie, however now red and white, those matching colors Harry had said, looked bad on him. Now that wasn't new; he always did what was wrong. The flashing cameras subsided when Harry and the two security guards outside Royal Emore gave space. And in walked the living legend, the boy who caught every eye and melted them; Aiden Mathews.

He said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Mr. York. I did take pictures of you and Ms. Lafayette just now. “You two are competitors and enemies. I couldn’t help but take pictures when I saw you two shopping together with two kids. “Are you both secretly married? Are those children yours?” Since the paparazzo had admitted his identity, he decided to question River boldly. He wanted to know whether River and Rosalie were married. River took the phone and deleted all pictures containing Heath’s and Callia’s faces. He also deleted those pictures from the “Recently Deleted” album. Surprisingly, he kept the photos that did not capture the children’s faces. He returned the phone to the paparazzo and said

We stopped at a channel long enough to hear a name that stopped me in my tracks. Harry Joseman. My neck nearly snapped as I turned to look at the TV. Oasis TV was airing, the same news company we had met at Harry’s company the other day. Sure enough, Harry was on the screen, in an impeccably ironed navy green suit — a colour I had told him suited him best. His voice filtered from the TV, painfully familiar. “…because signing a deal with Harper is really one of my biggest wins. Myself and my team worked super hard on it, especially my girlfriend, Cassandra Indigo.”

At this time, Harry looked at Matt on the side, "Vice Dean Parma, it's your turn." Matt stood there with a look of embarrassment on his face. Matt was dressed in a gray blue jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and a pair of sneakers, looking casual. It was as if someone had forcibly dragged him over here while he was doing his morning running. Hearing how Harry called Matt, all the reporters under the stage suddenly understood who Matt was. All of a sudden, they all aimed the cameras at him!

I stayed up until one in the morning, reading more and more since I've already dug up some dirt about him. Benedict Edward Rose Styles. Twenty-five years old. Fuckingly wealthy. He got a headline the day when the world found out he was the first born of Harry Styles from a one night stand. Mr. Harry Styles used to belong to an insanely famous boyband years ago called One Direction, later he turned to be a ridiculously filthy rich businessman. His mother, Miranda Rose Styles, at first kept him in secret for seven years from Harry and the entire world since she wasn't ready to tell everyone about him. Mrs. Styles was also married to her ex-husband Louis Tomlinson which was Harry Styles' best f

He wanted to show her something. "Look." He handed her the phone. "Do you know that guy?" Carla looked at the image of a person who looked familiar. He had brown hair and was handsome, but in an almost boyish way, although his gray hair and expression lines indicated otherwise. She saw in the image a well-dressed man but also looked a bit overdressed in his choice of outfit. Max, stretching out his arm and bringing his finger to the screen, changed the picture because there were two of them. In the previous one, the subject was captured walking down a London street and in the other, leaving a building, specifically the main headquarters of The Sun print media.

I say simply when we break apart. She laughs breathlessly. “Hi.” I don’t see the flash until after it happens, but the sound of a camera click is unmistakable. Then I hear another. I glance over my shoulder and see a guy with a DSLR pointed right at us. Another one joins him from the side, and I hear the murmuring begin. “Is that—?” Harper begins before she’s cut off. “Rafe Maloney, how’s it feel to be back in Minneapolis?” a paparazzo shouts to me.

Blowing a kiss at her, Hailey ended the call and started getting ready for the event. —————- Hailey swallowed painfully when the driver pulled up in front of the event hall. She could see a few paparazzi and of course, people in their gorgeous attire, taking pictures. The driver opened the door for her. She thanked him and helped herself out of the limousine. Once they sighted Hailey, three paparazzi rushed to her. “You look so gorgeous, Hailey Riley!” The female one said at the top of her voice while the others nodded in

That tells me everything. In the hallway, Liam's waiting with Harper and Jordan. The look on Liam's face makes my chest hurt. He's trying to smile but I can see the tension around his eyes, the way his jaw's too tight. "Hey." He pulls me close. "You were incredible in there." "I looked like a liar." "You looked like someone telling the truth under attack." He kisses my forehead. "There's a difference." Jordan's on his laptop, typing furiously. "I found the photographer. Guy named Stevens, works freelance for the tabloids. And guess who paid him five grand to follow Violet last week?"