VICE [H.S]

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Aurelia Price

2 DAYS LATER

I tap my toes rapidly against the dark wooden floor, a beating sound bouncing off the wall, my fingers picking at the skin surrounding them in the agony of waiting for someone to arrive instead of sitting here in painful silence except for the hum of 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' by U2 quietly murmuring through the tiny radio accompanying a cream clock on the coffee tables either side of the sofas,

Yet I'm also desperate for this all to be a prank and nobody to walk through that dreary aged door. As soon as I entered the quiet, almost scripted building a small blonde woman greeted me although her words were weird and chipped, rushing me down into a private room to wait for Harry or Dr Wales. It felt like I was in a fucking simulation...

Although the eyes of people walking out of doorways looked at me almost in relief yet some looked wide and worrying, this is a weird place,

According to her Harry's punctuality had never been great once in any sessions so that eased my nerves a tad, cooling me down for a moment whilst I wait for the professor to find me.

I bid fair well to the woman as she hesitantly closed the door on me, leaving me to gather my thoughts and enjoy my own company for a moment, I perch against the beige rough sofa placed against the bright white wall, digging my hands into the irregular placed cookie tin I found hidden in the corner when ten minutes had gone by. Still no sign of anyone except the odd person that would slowly walk past the door.

It's fucking frightening.

The dull room is decorated in black picture frames adorning simplistic enthusiastic quotes against the dark room, it almost makes me laugh, how fucking cheerful. The only ounce of colour littering the place is the sofa I decided to make myself comfy on, swiping away the accidental spill of crumbs falling from the cookies onto the grey rug on the shining wooden floor, everything almost looks too new. To out of place.

The building was only a fifteen-minute drive away from my apartment, palm trees littering the idealistic roads though my thoughts stay on the identical white buildings, only a few odd brick buildings standing out. Sign boards above them all, one particularly in white stood out as I drove by 'Do you know who you are?'.

Not now I'm in this part of town.

Another ten minutes go by of me staring at a black and white picture of a greyhound with a golden crown on its head scouting its every inch in boredom. I almost feel like it's mocking me for my early appearance,

"I wanted to make a good impression okay?" I whisper out to it, sending the smirking dog a finger,

This whole little assistant thing just seems off, I mean I have to trick Harry for one, not knowing what he might do to me if he fucking finds out I'm a spy...

The only hope I have is how closed off Harry is, how his personality is never shown through tabloids only the things he wants them to see. There's little to no background information on Harry, only that he's a maniac with a deadly drug addiction that likes to live on the edge.

You'd never see one talking about his family, his intimate relationships,

I wonder if he's ever even had a proper girlfriend, not a side fuck PR stunt,

I almost feel sorry for the way his life is perceived by everyone because I can tell you now it's not fucking good. Maybe that's why his addiction is so fuelled, fuelled by the anger and sadness of his everyday life. I mean, by the way, those guards pretty much dragged him away all night as though he was a rag doll just shows the control and power they have over him, yet why do they let him showcase himself in such an awful way? Is it a front?