Toxic | Harry Styles

Chapter 17

I may have been writing for the past three years, but one thing I just learned: The more you try to write like other people and try and make your story like someone elses the worse yours will end up. 

 

WARNING: Drunk Jade will make you want to punch someone 

Music:

Pursuit of Hapiness // Kid Cudi (Project X)

I knew we arrived at the club as soon as I heard loud music, vibrating through the cold air of the night. Harry undid the blindfold around my eyes just in time for me too see the outside. It was a house instead of a club. Why would Harry lie about that?

There were typical red solo cups scattered around the floor accompanied by drunk.. college students?

"Where the hell are we Styles?" I asked. "This isn't a club... its a - college party?'

"Incorrect,' He marked, his eyes shifting from one side of the road to another looking for a parking spot. "Its the Great Gatsby 2.0?"

My jaw dropped open. I remained speechless after he said that, until I managed to utter something out. "Are you fucking serious?"

The Great Gatsby 2.0 was just as it sounded. A man of the name Oliver Lincon had planned this party for the past couple of years. He was old, I mean dying old and had millions of dollars and no family. He donated more than half to charity and with the rest he decided to throw a party. The news of it came out when the FBI got suspicious of an unusual amount of confetti being bought from stores all around London. They thought it was some sick serial killer (oh look at that irony) going to play a trick. You could only imagine the embarrassment they felt when they found out what really was going on.

Evelyn, me and Evan planned to go to the party but the catch was you could only come if you had a golden slip. The slips were scattered all around London, and when I say that I mean some people found them in tree's and gutters and inside of their cars. We never came around to finding them though.

"You don't have a slip though,' I said.

"Cupcake," He said turning his car into a spot and stopping it. He turned towards me and grinned. "I'm Harry Styles - I don't need a slip to get into a party."

I rolled my eyes and snorted,"A serial killer with a huge ego. How original," I glared at him opening the car door.

He quickly followed after, and grabbed my hand roughly. "I'm not going to run Styles." I remarked. "Besides who could pass out on a party like this?'

Being locked up in Harry's prison make me forget how to actually live. I forgot the thrill you get at parties, the excitement of meeting new people and dancing, the rush of alcohol course through your body. And most of all I forget the extremely hot guys.

A group of British jocks winked over at me, causing a rude Harry to only hold onto me tighter and glare at them. If I was going to have any fun tonight I would need to get Styles off my ass.

When we walked in, I was hit with a wave of an alcoholic smell. This place was big. I mean massive.

The whole place was like... Well the great Gatsby movie. It was bright, big, and captivating. 

But the smell and the people were not. 

"Well," I said smiling. "Party time."

"YOU GET A CAR," I screamed standing on top of the table. "YOU GET A CAR, AND YOU GET A CAR." Throwing my drink up in the air, "ALL YOU FUCKERS GET A CAR."