Delude | h.s.

thirty one

You are the problem
You are the traffic
You Are the Traffic - COIN

♤

Layne

My hand runs the rag across the bar where I accidentally spilled a shot. The man who ordered it is glaring daggers at me, but I avoid his gaze. My eyes flicker to the clock on the wall and I nod to myself.

Ten more minutes until I'm out of this hell hole.

I've been off my A-game all week. I have been more irritated at work and with people than usual. I still haven't talked to Zoë after our little catfight the other day. I feel bad about it, but she's the one who needs to clean her mouth out. When things aren't right with her, it weighs heavier on me than I'd like it to. But I know it's because she's my best friend and I hate fighting with her, especially over something so stupid.

Another thing that's been bugging me is my parents. After they got word about Trevin and me, they have been nonstop calling me. I answered the first time my mom called because I thought she missed me – how could I be so naïve.

I was immediately bombarded with questions: What happened? Do you not love him anymore? Well then why did you leave him? How could you hurt him like that? You know he loves you, don't you? Zoë mentioned something about a man in the city, is he the reason you broke our dear Trevin's heart? What were you thinking? What has gotten into you?

And my personal favorite: How could you do this to me?

She said it as if I'd ruined every plan she had for my future, as if I'd taken something away from her, as if I'd failed her as a daughter.

I didn't even bother answering her question. I couldn't believe she had the audacity to say such a thing. But that hasn't stopped me from thinking about it all week.

I'm relieved to be spending the weekend away, but I don't know about how I feel about spending it with Harry. I'm excited, obviously, but I'm also incredibly anxious. What if he flips his kindness switch again and ignores me half the time? Or worse...

Harry said he would meet me outside of my building at the end of my shift. I don't know how he did it, but he got Nicole to take me off the schedule this weekend and let me leave at six o'clock tonight.

My mind wanders back to his words from the other day as I poor the man another shot.

Everybody owes me something, Ace.

What did he mean by that? Why would people owe him anything? Is he involved in some underground, sketchy business?

It's not impossible; Harry knows how to keep his mouth shut.

I place the shot in front of the man and watch as he begrudgingly picks it up. He glares at me before letting his eyes wander down my body. He brings his eyes back to me and the distaste that was in them has been replaced with seduction. He gives me a wink right before he tosses the shot down his throat.

I think I might vomit.

The muscles in my face contort into a cringe, and the man narrows his eyes at me.

"The fuck is you looking at?" he spits and slams the glass on the counter.

The glass bounces once before rolling onto the floor. Thankfully it doesn't break because of the mats we have back here for support.

"I could ask you the same question." I mumble as I pick up the cup.

He scoffs. The anger is evident in his voice, "who the fuck do you think you are?"