"Styles", he shook hands with Harry and turned back to me, "and guest...lovely to meet you", he took my hand and left a kiss on my knuckles, my intrusive thoughts almost getting the best of me and punching his face. 
I contained myself. I forced my hand away and gave him a tight lipped smile and sat myself back down. Harry eyed me apologetically as I read the name tag the man wore. 
Jackson. 
The only decent Jackson I knew of was from Hannah Montana, and he was as described in the show as a snot wagon. 
"If it isn't a worry, do you mind taking your bandage off?", Jackson asked as he looked through the cameras viewfinder. 
"No of course", Harry responded, "um Robin, do you mind?".
My actual name felt foreign leaving his mouth. 
Leaving my spot on the couch, I began to remove the metal clips that held Harry's bandage together and began to unwrap the white material. The clips proved to be much harder to remove than usual, Harry's bandages are thicker to block off any excess amounts moisture from coming in and infecting his healing area. 
"Good news is all your stitches are out, but your skin around the area is still pretty raw so I'll have to keep wrapping it, it'll just be thinner".
"And the bad news?", Harry leaned his head towards me making green puppy dog eyes. 
I could kiss him. 
"Nothing too bad, I just have to take a vial of your blood to send to the hospital for a cell count and make sure no medications have had negative internal effects to your body". 
"Smart girl", Harry whispers to me, his eyes looking back towards Jackson who I could feel looking at me through my green jacket. 
"I thought you were getting around Styles, didn't realize she worked for ya", Jackson invites himself to our conversation. How generous of him. 
"Well, she doesn't just work for me, I'd be too special". 
"Ah so she's going around, must be paying her extra attention to get her stay", he laughed at his own internalized misogyny, blind to the fact that he actually had no redeeming qualities. 
"It's not like that mate". 
A girl can wish for a lot of things, today mine are a longer jacket and knowing  today would only be the beginning of questions that involved who I was on and off camera. 
"So you've performed two unreleased songs of yours these past dates, there's been a lot of questions about who Anna is, anything you can entail us about that or who this Anna is?".
"Well she's a person that has a song written about her". I smiled down, looking down at my chipped nail polish. 
"Does she knows a song has been written about her?".
"Well her names in it", Harry pauses, pondering his next words, a delicious smirk settling on his face, "so I'm a bit fucked with that one". 
"You still talk to girl? Seen her since?". 
"I have seen her since". 
***
I have been quiet ever since we left that building I didn't care to know the name of. As soon as the glass doors opened I followed Harry out, after the cheerful screams of people who waited for him almost felt like a sweet breath of relief after being surrounded by testosterone. 
Never have I felt so observed like today. 
Oblongs of questions and comments all thrown at me, the screams seemed to silence when I appeared walking behind him and followed his actions into the black car. I felt as if my presence around anyone had suddenly become highly objectified. I was envious of the thin air, unseen and unnoticed.