the beautiful and damned - h.s.

twenty-two

"when i'm fucked up, that's the real me babe"
- the hills, the weeknd

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

I was too sober for this.

In no way shape or form was I a dancer, especially in a room full of strangers. Joyce, right now, was the complete opposite, she looked like she was having the time of her life.

I didn't want to hurt her feelings by saying no to dancing so I reluctantly let her drag me away to the makeshift dance floor.

What the fuck was wrong with me- since when was I worried about hurting her feelings?

These last few weeks had really been making me question everything I set out to be when I came to New York. I planned to find an apartment, get a job and live out my life alone till I had to redo everything all over again.

Now...I was at a party with my neighbour who knew more about me than anyone had known in the last decade at least, dancing as Marty McFly.

Genuinely, where did I go wrong?

"Harry you're so stiff, loosen up a bit!" Joyce shouted over the music. She grabbed my arms which were hung at my sides and swung them around, attempting to help me 'loosen up'. Easy for her to say, she was in perfect sync with the song.

Was there an option to tell her I just didn't want to dance?

Fuck, she just looked so carefree right now, I couldn't ruin that.

Seriously...what had gotten into me?

Since when did other people's feelings matter to me? It seemed as though since Joyce started becoming an unavoidable part of my life, I started questioning every aspect of it.

Leave it to me to think about these things during a time where I was supposed to be having fun in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by people...especially in front of the girl who wouldn't escape my mind. "Fuck this is my song!" Joyce shouted

I noticed the change of pace in the music, going from an upbeat dance track to a song that had a deeper bass. I recognized the song instantly from constantly hearing it on the radio a few years back. The Weeknd's voice filled the room and instantly the whole atmosphere shifted.

People started grinding up on one another and using this song as an excuse to practically fuck on the dance floor.

Joyce was again in perfect sync with the dark beat of the song and I felt myself swallow a lump in my throat as I watched her. Her arms were raised above her as she moved them around and back down to run her hands over her waist. She whirled around and smiled into the sweat-filled air. Suddenly, she grabbed both of my hands and pulled me closer to her, placing my own arms around her waist, which caused me to move in sync with her. Her arms barely reached over my shoulders when she set them there because she was considerably shorter than me. I had to look down at her and to my surprise when I did, she was smirking.

She knew what she was doing.

"I only love it when you touch me, not feel me"

"When I'm fucked up, that's the real me"

She mouthed the words as she looked directly at me. The sudden burst of confidence coming from her was something I never thought I would see. Although I knew that her behaviour right now was partly because of all the gin she consumed. The second the beat dropped in the song she swayed her hips, brushing her front against my own and I had to hold in the groan that was threatening to escape.