Love, Rubi ❦ H.S.

- five -

Rubi Jones
February 3rd, 2018 - 1:08am
❦

Disco Night was coming to a close, and my single interaction with Harry kept playing on repeat in my mind. People were slowly trickling out of the steel clad front doors, shouting 'thank you's and words of appreciation towards me and Joseph. But my mind was clouded.

"Did you think it was gonna be that easy?"

"At least take me out to dinner first, rockstar."

His expression as those words uttered from my lips was plastered in my head. It was a look of disgust, offence, and insobriety. It was scary, actually, and quite embarrassing for me. My goal was to knock him down a few pegs, not the other way around.

He walked out of that vestibule almost automatically, detaching himself from my waist and discarding me, sending me stumbling backwards. All I could do in that moment was stand there with my mouth open. What happened to the guy that was joking with me on the phone? Why was he all of a sudden so aggressive with me?

Although I don't know much about him, I know what the tabloids say. They say that he's sophisticated and stern, but also: a major league asshole. Flipping off paparazzi, shouting at young fans, being stuck up and self absorbed to almost everyone he meets.

With an attitude like that, I'm really not sure how he ends up with so many different girls. They must be really easy, because damn. He's complicated. It's hard to imagine that he even has friends. People who work for him, with him, enjoy his company. Does someone piss in his breakfast tea every morning?

"Rubi!" My trance was broken by someone shouting my name. I whipped my head towards them. It was Faith, standing in front of the bar with two other bottle girls, Josie and Nikki.

"Hi Faith, how's it going? Are you girls getting ready to head home?" I leaned over the bar so that they could hear me over the slowly dying music. My voice was a bit shaky.

"We wanted to see if you wanted to come out and have a cigarette with us. If you aren't too busy!" Faith shouted, cupping one of her hands against the side of her mouth. I smiled, and shrugged. Eh, why not. I could use a blast of cold air and some nicotine after the night I've been having.

I jogged around the bar. My feet were killing me in these shoes, but I couldn't take them off until I got home. God forbid I step on a needle or some shit.

The troop of slim blonde girls waltzed over to the back door, giggling and chatting amongst themselves as I trailed behind them. I was limping due to my aching heels, so I kept my pace slow, swinging my arms back and forth in hopes I would speed up somehow.

Suddenly, I felt a grip on my wrist from behind me. I stopped in my tracks and looked down at the ground, sighing.

Fuck.

I didn't want to turn around. I didn't wanna look him in the eye after my plan to schmooze him left me mortified.

"Turn around." He grumbled loudly so that I could hear him over the music.

I didn't reply.

"Rubi. Turn around." he said, a bit louder.

I've never heard him say my name before.

I squeezed my eyes shut with embarrassment and fear. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to be face to face with the man that singlehandedly tore down my confidence in one swift movement. I breathed in deeply, cracking the knuckles of the hand that wasn't in his grasp.

Just breathe. Breathe what you love. This is what you love, right?

After finding a quick jolt of confidence, I spun myself around. I was faced with Harry, of course. He was gleaming with sweat. His chiffon shirt was halfway unbuttoned. In his free hand was a sweaty glass that was filled with God knows what.