𝕊ℍ𝔼'𝕊 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔹𝔸ℕ𝔻 | h.s

12 ❧ p i n k d r e s s. ❧

(trying something new, i feel like im more motivated to write in their POVS)

play when you see *

HARRY STYLES.

"Jerk off Jerry is here, guys!" Niall points, the fucking twat that jerks off in the bathroom instead of taking someone home—sits, in the back of the strip club.

It is one of our nights off, we have a private booth to ourselves.

We don't usually come and go around here, but tonight I needed to get out. Being around Molly has really
fucked with my head.

I'll admit, I've been ignoring her. Her presence is too much for me now.

She pushes my buttons.

Tries me.

Goes against my word.

I kissed her, and now I fucking hate her.

Leaning on my elbow on top of the bar top, I nod to the burnett who's in nothing but a thin string between her ass cheeks, and a thin layer over her pussy.

Her top is off, her tits bounce slightly as she reaches with one hand to grab the best Tequila they have. Walking towards me, she slides the bottle towards me on the counter, mouthing to me, "Zayns tab?"

I nod, once. It's all it takes for me to grab the bottle and walk towards the private booth.

I look up, noticing the boys already sitting behind the thick, red rope, tossing back shots. Niall looks over to Jerk off Jerry one last time before rolling his eyes, grabbing another shot glass and handing it to the girl sitting by him.

I take a double take, noticing she looks familiar...

I nod once to the bouncer, he quickly allows me to slide past him, behind the red rope. I hold the bottle up, winking at Zayn and twisting it open. I use my back molars to pop it off, spitting it onto the ground before tipping my head back, slowly downing it.

The burning sensation takes over the tart taste of it, allowing me to cough into my arm, shaking my head. Letting out a deep breath, it drips down my bottom lip, onto my chin. I clear my throat before wiping the residue off with the back of my hand.

I take a seat next to Zayn, Niall on my left, and Louis on Zayns right, Liam by Niall's left. The girl with Niall stands over the railing, looking down at the people dancing funkily on the dance floor.

Her body is covered in a pink dress, showing her back. The straps to it go over each one of her shoulders, tied up behind her neck. Her hair is deep rooted black, pin straight, cut at her shoulders. I can tell she has bangs by looking at her side profile.

"Come take a shot with us!" Niall of course yells over  the music, making her back straighten.

She smiles, keeping her back to us.

"You know.. When I first met you, Niall, I didn't pick you to be the biggest party-goer out of all of you."

Turning around, she crossed one leg over the other, leaning back, resting both of her elbows on the railing.

I don't need to see my face to know that all of the blood is completely drained from it.

"You cut your hair? And you colored it?" The only words that have come out of my mouth in weeks, the only words I have spoken to...

"Molly, take this shot! Don't be a pussy. I didn't invite you out tonight just to be on a level lower than us!"

My eyes shoot to Niall, my jaw clenching tightly as I lift both of my arms over the seat, resting them behind both boys on either side of me. My black t-shirt fits loosely, allowing my body to breathe, which I'm thankful for tonight because I'm fucking fueling with fire.

"You don't think that I would keep my blonde hair for forever, do you?" Her voice is cold.

In the dimly lit haze of the club, the thumping bass reverberated through my chest.

"Perhaps not, I suppose.. Though, it just took me by surprise, is all, I didn't take you as one out of everyone to change their appearance to ignore their issues."

I instantly clipped my lips shut tightly, running my palms along the couch behind the boys' shoulders. I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions. But amidst the flashing lights and pulsating music, there was only one thought consuming my mind.

Molly. Even though I could possibly be in any club other than this one, I'm choosing to stay.

"Let's go! Dancing might help my issues," she rolls her eyes, tossing the shot glass onto the table, the liquid left inside of it sloshing onto my dress pants. Pulling Niall up by his hand, she links her fingers between his, heading for the bouncer.

Clearing my throat, I toss back another shot while Zayn asks, "When did they get... close?"

Louis sniffles in a chuckle, his lips quirking into a smirk, but he tried to hide it by bouncing his leg, spreading them and rubbing his nose with his knuckle.

"Fuck off, both of you."

Standing up, I walk over to the railing, and rest both hands on it, slouching to relax my back, crossing my right foot over my left. Glaring my eyes down onto the bodies who sway around and the people kissing, practically jumping, I spot her.

*

She was there, dancing with him, her laughter ringing like melodies in the air, igniting a spark of jealousy within my chest. I can't tear my gaze away from her, even though I'm trying to drown my frustrations in the liquid courage of my drink.

Every glance exchanged, every touch shared between Molly and Niall felt like a knife twisting in my gut. It wasn't fair, it feels.. bitter, that she was here, so close yet utterly out of reach. The dichotomy of desire and frustration is tearing at my soul, leaving me feeling raw and exposed in the suffocating embrace of the club's atmosphere. Or, it could be the twelfth fucking shot I've downed.

___

As the night wore on, I kept finding myself hiding into the shadows, my façade of punk-rock bravado crumbling under the weight of my unspoken feelings. I wanted to scream, to lash out at the unfairness of it all, but instead, I've swallowed my drunken words, suffocating on the bitterness that threatened to consume me entirely.

Each passing moment felt like an eternity, each beat of the music a painful reminder of what I couldn't have. And yet, despite the turmoil raging within me, there was a part of me that I can't help but revel in the agony of longing.

____

The world spun around me in a nauseating blur, the pounding in my head matching the relentless thump of the bass. I felt sick to my stomach, my senses blanked by the haze of alcohol coursing through my veins.

How many drinks had I had? I don't even remember.

My eyes drifted lazily across the crowded dance floor, landing on a girl dancing provocatively on a pole nearby. I blinked, trying to focus, but everything seemed to swim in and out of focus. I couldn't even recall how I ended up here, near the pole, lost in a chaos of flashing lights and drunken bodies.

With a heavy sigh, I stumbled over to a nearby seat, sinking down with a loud thud. My mind is a foggy mess, and the image of Molly, the lingering of my obsession, seemed to slip further and further away with each passing moment.

But then, the stripper from the pole was suddenly in my lap, her movements slow and hypnotizing. I blinked in confusion, my hands instinctively reaching out to touch her, to pull her closer.

It was like I was watching myself from a distance, a reason to my own downfall.

As she rolled her hips against me, a hollow ache settled in the pit of my chest, the feeling of longing echoing in the depths of my soul. I wanted to push her away, to stand up and look for Molly, but the words caught in my throat, drowned out by the pounding bass of the club.

I surrendered to the dizzying rollercoaster of sensations, losing myself in the fleeting ecstasy of the moment, all the while knowing that it was Molly's name that lingered on my lips, chocked up in the back of my throat, her face is what danced behind my closed eyelids, a bittersweet reminder of what I could never have.