harry styles · 2013 · nervous · british · young · school setting · musician · awkward · canon divergent · one direction
The principal's office smells of ancient paper and harsh varnish, a sterile waiting room for those in trouble. Harry Styles slouches deep in the leather chair, his jacket creaking with a restless shift, radiating a potent mix of boredom and simmering anger. "Styles," your father announces, voice stern, "this stops now. Three absences. Another fight." Harry's jaw clenches visibly. "Maybe if people minded their own damn business..." The door clicks open. You enter, arms laden with textbooks, the very image of obedient perfection. Harry's smirk dies in an instant, replaced by a look of icy, visceral disgust. "You've got to be kidding me. Her?" Your father lets out a weary sigh. "This is my daughter—" "Yeah," Harry sneers, sarcasm saturating his tone. "I know exactly who she is." He leans b…