Harry 's POV:
It was the same darkness. Prevailed in my living room, personifying my inner self. It felt strange. Everything. This day. Things that happened. Myself. Her.
I was angry at myself too. That I agreed with Clarke's stupid idea. To make a random girl my pretending wife. Not everyone is able for this kind of work. Or maybe this whole idea was stupid. I didn't know. And that sharp pain emerging from one side of my head, making my eyes bulge out of the socket was not letting me overthink matters that were already confusing enough.
I headed straight towards my spacious bedroom. Letting myself fall on the mattress.
The knock at my door broke my attention to the file I was reading. After my permission, Clarke stepped in. Walking towards me, he said;
"I think we found her."
Out of nowhere, he informed me.
"Found who?" was my question.
"Your 'would be contractual wife'." Tilting his head a bit, he arched his eyebrow. Like we are teenagers and he is talking about my crush.
"We can do a background check, later."
Placing a file in front of me, he continued;
"She is a student, no family. She has umm-loans or something to pay. And she is attractive."
I started reading the file, and he informed me of the details. 'Sarah Spencer' , her name was written. A passport-size picture was attached. I was doing this. I mocked myself.
At the end of the day, all I wanted was to shut their mouths.
"She is here. I'll call her in. if you-" He paused. Looking at me with sheepish eyes.
"Hmm," I nodded my head slowly.
I saw him walking out of the door. Reappearing after a moment, walking in, with a girl. Which I assumed to be the candidate.
I was only able to see her side profile since she was too busy to look at the studio portion of my office. I was not surprised, the architecture of my office and the whole building was always mesmerising. Her hair was long. Light brown. Almost touching her torso. At the voice of Clarke, she turned to me, realising why she was here. Hazel were they, her eyes. Some stray hair was messily resting on her face. Full lips without any shade on them. And I realised that she was not wearing any makeup. Oh, she was in so casual clothes. It was weird, usually, girls overdress when they come to HW productions, for any job. She walked and sat on the chair in front of her, the table opposite to me. Suddenly, I realised we were looking at each other since she turned to me. It felt annoying to me.
"Will you say something, if you are done eyeing me out," and I made sure to sound cold because I doubted my gaze to be that cold. I knew the look Clarke was giving me, without even looking at him. I didn't miss the nervousness I caused in her. Hazel shaded eyes felt tense.
"Hi, my name is Sarah Spencer," she spoke in a crooked voice.
"Which I have read through your CV, anything new?" I asked simultaneously, arching my eyebrow. She gave me a disgusted look.
"Please, I didn't tell her yet," Clarke informed me.
Oh, so she didn't know yet. Okay, it makes sense she is very casual. And as Clarke told me, she is in debt. She is in need.
"The thing is Miss Spencer, we are here for a proposal," I heard Clarke explaining.
"A proposal?" She was curious or maybe frightened. I didn't like it, her, and her being impatient.
"Yes, a proposal for a contract," Clarke answered.
"Can you please tell me what's going on?" Again, this girl was getting on my nerves.
"Yes, but please just hear me out first" he almost begged.
"Ok, go on,"
"This is Harry Calloway," our eyes met again. Her gaze was not something I felt very fond of. But, I didn't show it. The effect, the strange energy I was getting from her.
"He is a very famous music producer, and is recently under some criticism."
"What criticism?". Is she crazy? I asked myself.
"Let me explain please"
"He is criticised for being a playboy, so we were thinking about a solution for this. And we figured it out that if he could marry a girl then we would be able to shut their mouths ." The way he introduced me was not nice. Usually, I didn't care about it. My impression on someone. But somehow, I hated Clarke's words and was already furious at this impatient behaviour of hers.
.
"And I still don't understand why it should be my concern?"
" Because you are broke," There it was. The limit of my calmness. These words did not answer her question nor were they something I had planned to say. But they came out.
"Harry please-"Clarke tried to cover it up but she cut him off,
"Excuse me?" she turned to me, only meeting an exhausted sigh of mine.
"I said you are broke, and you have loans. I will take care of your financial matters in return you have to be my contractual wife for public display,"I repeated, and also explained the deal.
Realisation hit her. Or maybe she was hurt. Not that I care, but why the hell she was so transparent.
"What do you think I am? A hooker?" Now she was furious.
"No, Miss Spencer please-,"This was my turn to cut his words.
"My hookers are far more expensive to be faked, we just want a normal, ordinary girl, who had no public appearances in the past and she is broke enough to rely on us and be loyal,"I was sure it was enough. Maybe she was furious enough to go physical. But she stood up
"You better hire a hooker, because I am not broke enough to devalue myself."
Okay, this was not something I expected. And maybe that disgusted look of mine was revealed to her. I saw her disappearing out of my office.
"You are disgusting," I heard Clarke.
"Shut the f**** up." I shouted.
.
The whole scene at my office was flashbacked. No one ever did that. She was so audacious. Not that she was the first one to cross her boundaries in front of me. She reminded me of Tina. But I had known Tina for a very long time. And we had our own style of conversation. She was not a stranger to me. But that girl. Not that She made me so extensively furious. Knowing that she was also provoked by my remarks, was something I was slightly proud of.
Thinking about Tina, I remembered how rude our last meeting was.
Okay, problem.
Falling asleep with a throbbing head, waking up early, and seeing his face, Clarke's face, was not the ideal morning for me.
But here I was, in my casual pyjamas, hooded eyes on my couch. Legs folded, waiting for my black coffee to finally wake me up.
"I was just trying to help you. She was perfect."
How could he dress up this early? I was not in the mood to have a conversation about what happened yesterday. And, yes he did not care about that.
"she is a b****. I don't want her near me." I announced in a single breath. After sipping from my black coffee, that had just arrived.
"Like you have that many options."
"Yes, I have. I am not doing it anyway."
"Harry we can lose. We can lose whatever we have. Once you are out of sight. It doesn't matter how creative your songs are. You have to give them what they think you cannot provide."
No, no he is persuading me again.
"Surprise. It's all about surprise.You being with someone is what they cannot imagine."
I rested my back against the couch. After all, I am an entertainer, I thought. Work, it'd just be part of my work. It was nothing infront of things I had done before, that were purely for work and were hard. Many musicians hadn't done that. That's why I was here. Where nobody was.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, with a stern face.
"Apologise to her." he said it, like it was nothing.
"You gotta be kidding me. That b-" before I could fully express that how much ridiculous this idea is, he interrupted me,
"Do you have anyone in mind? The one you trust and would make an headline for us,?"
"What?" my posture straightened and I felt tension across my body.
"look," he bent, resting his elbows on his knees, he continued, " You are already on break. They will forget you if you don't give them reason to remember." He was serious, so was I. "It would be a promotion for your next album. You know, how much they want to take your place."
This is good, bringing promotions in this. I was silent.
"So, are we good?" he straightened his posture as he thought he has won.
No this is not me, I mocked myself. As I stood in front of the brown door, in a very shitty building. I hated the hallway so much, it was so narrow. My back was hurting from bending, to secure my head not bumping onto the ceiling. Also it was the same for Clarke. He gave me a sheepish smile. It was his idea to come here and apologise to her. The address in her CV did give me a clue about the condition. But it was worse.
Clarke knocked at the door. I looked at him. I was standing in front of the door. I don't know why, but I didn't want to be the first one she saw. As I was going to slide to the left, the door opened. I stopped. Hazel coloured eyes shining with a bit of sunlight. Her hair was wet. And the fragrance of cheap shower gel lingered into the space between us. It was normal, I was the last person she was expecting this morning. Her eyebrows frowned, showing the confusion. The confusion that slipped onto her tongue.
"You?", I heard her. Her voice was-feathery yet it managed to make me freeze for a very mysterious reason.
"Hi, Sarah . How are you doing?" Clarke stepped in, and asked the most awkward question of the year. Like we hadn't argued yesterday.
"Fine," she said in a very neutral tone. Ofcourse, I was the reason for that.
"Can we please talk inside?" Clarke asked. I was standing silent.
She was reluctant. Yet I saw her opening the door wider for us to step in.
Only one room, something I confirmed. After my eyes roamed the whole space that was in front of me. A bed for one. A desk with a bunch of books, papers, with a chair I was not sure, was safe to use. A mirror. No beauty products, as a normal girl would have. A corner arranged, as a kitchenette.
"She is fuc**** poor," I murmured. But the look I got from her. shi*t she heard it. But somehow, she felt less responsive. Less reacting. Less provocative. To be honest, It felt boring to me. She was not giving me those harsh impressions as she did in my office.
"The thing is we want to apologise." Clarke said in an apologetic yet professional tone.
"Why are you apologising?" she said, not in a sarcastic way. Her eyes were staring at the ground. And when she lifted them again, I noticed they were slightly worn out or maybe they were a bit red. Did she cry? Out of pure curiosity, I thought. Although she didn't seem to be the crying type yesterday. But now she was looking different or more accurately she felt- soft? It was all making sense now, her worn out expression. Tired tone. She was sad.
"I am sorry for yesterday," it happened. The apology slipped out of my tongue. It was a millisecond of unconsciousness. Like I was on drugs. And then I came back to life. She was surprised. And also I saw Clarke. His mouth was open in shock. Little did he know, I had got the most awkward feeling in that room, about the words I had just said.
"Yes- uhh. He is sorry." Clarke tried to bring senseful words out of his mouth. His eyes are not leaving my face.
"It would be great, if you'll just reconsider-"
"I'll do it." were the words, I was not expecting to be hearing so soon