September 7th, 2012

Melodious footsteps echoing from the corridor didn't help subside Rosie's anxiety as she sat in an expensive leather seat in a city that was foreign to her. She traveled alone from her hometown to the giant city of London, getting lost in its inner streets of downtown, navigating through crowds of hundreds attempting to get to work on time. It was fascinating to her: watching people blatantly raising their noses in the air and stiffening their grip on their bag at the sight of her wardrobe.

She must have looked so odd to everyone, a young girl, dressing older than her age, looking at everything in her path to find the one glass encased building she was dreading to see. She tried her best to fit in, wearing everything from her mother's church blazer to her barmaid heels, but her efforts were in vain as she still looked too young to take seriously.

Rosie experienced that first hand when she approached the building she was looking for. The security guard snorted in laughter, ignoring her attempts of telling him she had an appointment and that she was in the right place.

When he finally rang the front desk, he grunted, annoyed at the fact that she was telling the truth. She smirked at him sarcastically, addressing him as the first random name that came to her before dismissing herself through the door.

That was the last time she felt any relative ease since she had stepped foot in the building. The murmurs and looks she got from a group of middle aged corporate white men that sat waiting on oddly shaped chairs made her feel restless walking up to the docile man at the front desk. She was then whisked away by a woman to another room where she sat waiting.

She tapped her toes on the tile of a corporate office with her hands in her lap, finding her rhythm in the ticking of the clock. She didn't exactly know where to look or what to do with herself. She'd never been in a position like this before, especially alone. She felt too dirty to be in a room like this, with black marble floors and newly painted walls. She almost understood what Louis meant by his statement about that. Almost.

"Ah Rosie," A voice cut through the silence, "I've been waiting for this meeting all day."
Rosie turned and stood abruptly, not knowing what else to do. She smiled timidly and held out her hand, "Mr. Cowell."

"No need for formality, love." He laughed, ignoring her hand. "You look great. You should flat iron your hair more, it suits your face well."

Rosie awkwardly put down her hand and smiled timidly. "Uh," she paused, "Thanks."

"How was the train ride here?" Simon asked, sitting at his desk, putting the files that he held in his hand from his previous meeting on his oak desk. "Busy?"

Rosie followed his actions, sitting back down. The cushion breathed in protest as she squirmed sightly. "Erm, no."

There was a momentary silence as he leaned back on his chair, seemingly disappointed at the lack of the responses she was giving. "I'll just cut to the chase then." Simon's voice changed dramatically. "Is there something wrong back in Auckley? Louis behaving?"

"No," Rosie hesitated. Her eyes widened slightly realizing her slip of the tongue. "I mean, yes, he is. I, um, I haven't seen him all week, he's been with his family," she corrected herself, "so I, uh, don't know."

He twiddled a pen in his fingers, listening to her ramble patiently. "That's good..." he started, "...getting some family time in. Suppose his mum is taking care of him well."

Rosie nodded timidly, playing with the zipper on her bag. Every ounce of false confidence she was trying to instil in her approach disintegrated. She had rehearsed her speech one hundred times over, thinking about every response under the sun. But as they sat quietly, she didn't think this would happen.

Simon sighed, moving to lean on his desk. "Is there a point to this meeting then, Rosie?"

"Yes!" she respectfully exclaimed, finally excited to recite the script she had been practicing. She searched through her purse, looking for the folded folder she had been working on. "I came here because I would like to work on my friendship with Louis," she smiled, placing the concealed folder on his desk.

Simon grinned, "That's fantastic!" He reached for the folder but was stopped by her pulling it back to her lap.

"Of course," she interrupted. "it won't be easy for him - or you for that matter."

"Oh?"

"Louis has always been a simple person - not that he's stupid, he's actually quite intelligent," she recited. "However, mentally of course, you've trapped him in a corner of his own making."

Simon raised his eyebrows, shocked at the bluntness of her statement. He opened his mouth slightly, about to comment when she raised her hand.

"I understand that he's made his choices himself when it comes to his addictions; to say otherwise is redundant. Especially, seeing as how he doesn't find anything wrong with said actions," she stated, seemingly prepared that he would tell her off, "But that doesn't dismiss the fact that the underlying force has been his management team."

Simon breathed ominously, allowing her to continue her speech. He sat back on his chair, allowing it to recline slightly, looking at up at the ceiling. "Go on."

"Back to my proposal," Rosie stated, finally getting his attention as he looked back down.
"Louis is simple when it comes to achieving something. You tell him how to do it exactly, he will do it correctly." She took the folder and opened it, looking for the correct sheet. "I have devised a plan to help our friendship get back on track."

She handed him a sheet and mildly explained what the intentions of the list and the tasks were. "Louis has agreed to this, but he was apprehensive about you agreeing so he suggested that I ask."

Rosie watched as Simon grabbed his reading glasses to read over the list, realizing in that moment that she had barely taken a breath since she started speaking. Her nerves crept up her spine, realizing that she had basically told the CEO of a major corporation to shut up with the palm of her hand. She waited patiently as he scanned through, chuckling at some.

Simon's chuckle escalated to a full blown laugh as he tossed the list onto his desk, sliding towards her. "This is a joke right?"

"No."

He shook his head, seemingly unimpressed at what she presented. "You know, for a moment there," he paused, taking off his glasses to toss them on his desk, "It actually sounded like you knew what you were talking about."

"I do know what I'm talking about," Rosie rebutted, furrowing her eyebrows. She was sure of herself. She was sightly offended at the tone of his voice. She wanted to sound professional but he was treating her like her age.

"No darling, you don't," Simon replied condescendingly. "Louis has an image to uphold-"

"An image that he's already tarnished," Rosie interrupted rudely, sitting back in her chair, crossing her arms. "but go on."

"The image is not of himself but of the band. The band is still very family friendly-"

Rosie scoffed. "If you can call one of the band members a borderline alcoholic and drug abuser family friendly, then sure."

Simon gave the girl a look that cut her long run on her sarcastic tracks short. "I gave you time to speak, Miss Smith. Now it is my turn."

She listened to him ramble about the technicalities of being in the music industry, noticing his effort in dumbing down a lot of his content while still remaining professional.

Rosie felt tension in her stomach, from both nerves and anger. Of course she thought this would be a breeze, having him just agree and go home. She should've planned for the belittling and condescending tones but she never thought that a business man in a position like Simon Cowell, someone who is asking a favour from her, would do that. She tested his patience once more, seemingly fed up, "Tell me, Mr. Cowell, what happened to 'no need for formality'?" She watched him take a deep breath. "Look, I understand that I don't know the technicalities of the music industry or public image or anything of the sort," she reasoned, "but what I do know is Louis and how all these 'technicalities' depend on him straightening out."

"And you think a funny little list is going to fix that?" Simon rebutted. "This all seems very selfish, Rosie. All of this seems like it's for your entrainment."

"Oh it is," she agreed. "I'm not denying that. The list isn't meant to help his image, it's to help our friendship."

"You're missing the point Rosie. I'm not asking you to fix your childish little friendship. I'm asking you to help him get into the right headspace for the sake of hundreds of people's jobs."
Simon spoke with his hands, trying to reword his argument "I don't care if you hate him or if he hates you. The proposition was meant for Louis' wellbeing, not humiliation."

"I don't work that way," Rosie said simply. She was not willing to work in spite of differences. She wanted this whole mess to be resolved, not pushed aside for corporate greed.

"You don't work at all, darling."

Rosie blinked, clearly dumbfounded by his statement. Her lips moved before her rationality could stop them. "Firstly, we are in a professional business meeting. Do not call me darling. It makes me uncomfortable," she chastised, raising an eyebrow.

Rosie stood from her seat, pressing the palms of her hands on the desk, leaning on it. "Secondly, I work three jobs, support my family all whilst attending college full time. I work and I work hard," she remarked matter-of-factly, while poking her chest. She watched his face grow stoney, looking slightly uncomfortable at her statement. Which of course, gave precedence for her teenage brain to continue in satisfaction. "Do not belittle my craft and I will not belittle yours.

"You're so caught up in the logistics of the job that you're forgetting that you're dealing with people who have feelings." She stood up straight, fixing her blazer, faking more confidence that she had. "I am not going to be intimidated into doing things your way when they are the most ineffective ways present."

Simon watched Rosie as he had been the entire time, but this time, silence filled the room. "Are you finished with your tantrum?" Simon finally articulated after a brief silence, clearly annoyed at her speech. "You may sit now, Miss Smith." She raised an eyebrow, and complied. "Modest Management is efficient and effective in making the most profit possible." He sat forward, looking her dead in the eye. "If we can't use someone like you, we will have to find a different outlet that will suffice."

Rosie rolled her eyes, detecting his poor use of a threat. "You don't understand the difference between effective and efficient. I know Louis well enough that bullying him into submission won't work."

"It worked before," Simon rebutted, slightly taken back at her lack of response to his statement. "Modest has one of the most efficient managerial methods I've seen."

Rosie titled her head back in sarcastic surprise. She was waiting for that. "Is that so?" She pulled out all the files left in her folder, finally getting back on script. "Look..." she smirked, pulling out a scandal by one of Modest's leading acts and slid it to him from his desk, "...at..." she pulled out another, "...all these..." and another, "...efficient..." and another, "...methods."

Simon's face was unreadable at this point, but he was clearly pissed off that she was rubbing in the fact that she did her research. She could almost see a hint of approval at her findings, but it was covered by the grimace of anger in his eyes.

"Would you like me to continue? I have about fifteen more documents I've found since 2007 that might go against your attitude towards this management team."

"That is enough," he stopped her with a hand, "you've made your point."

Pieces of Simon's argument were starting to pan out more evenly for her as she talked. Rosie realized that she was dealing with someone who cared more about the technicalities of someone's life than the life itself. He didn't really care for Louis' wellbeing at all, and she didn't really know how to feel about that. All Rosie did know what that she needed to take a different approach.

"I'm not going to deny that I'm inexperienced Simon, but do not call me ignorant," she uttered, softening her tone. "Anyone with eyes and a computer can see what I see. It's clear to me that you want to resolve any problems you have with your, by far, most profitable act. But the way you allow this team to micro manage everything is ridiculous.

"Your team's technique blatantly hides things, bends the rules, and then punishes them for not knowing what's going on." She took the papers from his desk and placed them back into her folder as she spoke, "I was talking to Harry and his assistant and it seems like they've been doing it from the start.

"They didn't know any better, Simon. They listened to you, someone who said they trust, to help them achieve something that only few dream of. But they're growing older, they don't want to be treated like kids anymore," Rosie explained, recounting Harry's words, "The last thing they want to be is belittled when they're already established."

"They're management may have a few kinks but they are fit for the job," Simon retorted, "You can't try and tell me otherwise - that is one thing I do know. Their record is one of the cleaner ones in the industry. They need to keep the boys on watch at all times.

"Your argument is lacking a key role in all of this: the media. They're always watching." Simon explained, "This goes back to the image thing I was talking about - they're at their most popular. The media is eating them up right now."

She shook her head, fiddling with the folders edge. "There's a fine line between obedience and ignorance Mr. Cowell," Rosie sternly said looking up, clearly annoyed that he wasn't listening to her. "They don't need to be monitored 24/7."

Rosie interrupted herself momentarily, finally understanding what he meant by public image. Louis touched on the sheer amount of pressure he had to deal with when he walked out of the house - and the look on his face when he read the list made her rethink the phrasing of her thoughts. "Don't you think they have enough pressure as it is without people breathing down their necks. Can't they just have time to remember freedom for once?

"Don't you remember when you were twenty?" She smiled at him as if he was a child, "Don't you remember wanting to try new things? Doing stupid things just for the experience?"

Simon looked down at his desk, recounting his younger days. She could tell that a slight smirk was attempting to be hidden on his face. She had done her research that was so intensive that it went as far as knowing his life story. She knew basically every mistake he's ever made in his life.

"You're suffocating these boys, Simon. The more you try to control them, the more they're gonna rebel. The more freedom you give them, especially Louis, the less they will want to rebel," Rosie said. "The scrutiny will end as long as Louis feels like he has support, and not another parent."

Simon made a face, understanding her point. "There's still no reason for Louis to act in such a way when no one else in the group is doing it."

"Louis needs support. He's always had it growing up and now that it's gone, he's subconsciously pissing people off to get the attention he wants," Rosie asserted.

Simon breathed out, clearly dumbfounded at the amount of preparation of research she had done, from online digging to interviews with his clients. If she wasn't proposing such a childish idea, he would've been completely impressed.

"I don't know what you're doing now but you can't make music like you used to. Although they are popular amongst young kids right now, they're hated by a lot of other people," Rosie shook her head and lowered her voice, thinking about how every media outlet and social media network has been tearing them down, "Imagine what kind of emotional baggage and psychological backlash that does on the boys, Simon.

"I don't think that I'm asking for much," Rosie expressed, "I genuinely believe that by Louis doing this for me, it will remind him not to be so caught up in everything. It will reinstate how he was before the pressure of fame. It will show him that you don't have to completely lose yourself in order to grow up."

Her words evoked a long silence from Simon, hanging in the air like ice. His face was undecipherable, turned his chair away from her slightly, chewing on the end of a pen staring at the wall parallel to him.

She took a deep breath in, feeling strangely neutral about the whole ordeal. She always loved debating but this was different - this was someone's life she was arguing for. As the ringing of stillness continued, she asked herself if she felt neutral because in the back of her head, she felt like there was no way for him agreeing at this point - or perhaps the neutrality was from the sheer fact that this was all coming to a close: the friendship or an era of separation.

Rosie cleared her throat, "I'm not here for money, or a record deal or anything. I will help Louis for free, I don't care. I just need to feel like he wants to make the effort," she repeated. "and this..." she held up the list. "...this funny little list will help me - it will prove to me that I can genuinely help him," she placed the paper back on the desk. "That he can genuinely be helped."

Simon looked down at the list again, leaning back on his chair, clearly thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. He sighed, shaking his head, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. He looked at her with tired eyes. "And Louis is okay with this?"

Rosie grinned as she nodded excitedly. "Yes, sir."

The older man sighed once more, covering his forehead with forearm. Finally, he muttered a breathless, "I'll see what I can do."

Notes