Chapter Seven

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 Halle Henry

My head is spinning.

I don't know what time it is, or how far from the hotel we are, but I'm so far past the point of caring. Harry and I headed straight out after the show, we got in a taxi to go to the other end of the city so we weren't at the same bar as any of the people that would have been at the show, and we've slowly been making our way back, stopping in by all of the bars we'd pass on the way back to the hotel.

We started in a really nice quiet end of the city, there weren't many people in the bar and that meant that service was quick, further meaning there were plenty of drinks poured down our throats causing us to fall into our familiar drunken states.

It's nice to talk to him on a casual level, where we aren't talking because we need to or because it's awkward if we don't. Harry feels like a friend right now and I haven't felt like I've had a friend in a while.

"Jenny's bar...sounds nice." He states, slurring on his words slightly as we're walking down a quiet street and approaching what looks like another quiet bar. "One drink?"

"One." I tell him, squinting my eyes and using my index finger to point at him like a mother telling off their child.

It must be well after 1 AM by now, my eyes feel like they're destined to close and my body is telling me to go to bed, but some part of me is also telling me to carry on getting drunk with Harry. For some reason, I seem to be listening to the minority.

Harry and I wandered into the bar, and we were seated at a table for two outside under the bright red sign with the words 'Jenny's bar' written on it in white. It seems like a really nice bar too, it's quiet and the music is good.

"I'm James, what can I get- holy shit. You're Harry Styles and You're Halle Henry." The waiter interrupted himself as he tore his eyes up from his notepad.

"Yeah, nice to meet you." Harry smiles all smugly, clearly loving the feeling of being recognised in even the smallest, quietest area of the city. "Give us your best cocktail, pressures on buddy."

"Erm...we have the str-"

"Surprise us." Harry cuts him off. Standing up with his hand on the guys shoulder.

The guy laughed nervously and headed back inside, and Harry sat down whilst pulling his cigarettes from his pocket. I sat back looking at him and shaking my head at his very cocky manner. Harry raised his brows with a smirk and tossed the cigarettes over to my side of the table, nodding towards them, and inviting me to take one.

I grab one, pulling my plastic red lighter from my pocket and attempt to light the cigarette. Of course, my lighter fails me, because apparently the whole universe is against me trying to look cool in front of the nation's favourite rockstar at the moment.

"Fuck sake." I sigh, chucking the lighter down on to the table with an unlit cigarette held on the knuckle between my index and middle finger.

Harry's face displayed a devilish smirk before he reached into his pocket to pass me his own lighter. It's a metal one with the letter H on it, but in fairness to him, as pretentious as it might be to have a lighter with your own initial on it, it does a much better job than my shitty red plastic one.

"You like the colour red." Harry states, with a smirk. "That should be like... your brand or something."

"You think?" I ask, my lungs feeling as if they're being wrapped in a warm blanket of black smoke that doesn't have any of the benefits a warm blanket does.

"What colour is your album cover?"

"Red." I say confusedly. "Why?"

"Halle Henry's debut era is red, second album era can be like... blue or some shit" He tells me, giving me that look that tells me he feels intelligent for suggesting that.

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