Prince in the City [Harry Styles AU]

Chapter 6

I thought back to the conversation my mother and I had a few days ago, how Zoe would have to deal with me on my own wedding day. But this was her time, and I was more than willing to join her on this and help her every step of the way. Besides, if she really did turn out to be a nightmare, I could always return the favor when the roles are reversed. "I can handle you."

We chatted for a little while about her trip to Chicago, before she indulged in how Carlos had proposed and how it was the last thing she had been expecting. Zoe then proceeded to show me pictures and videos her family members had taken, since apparently they knew it was going to happen, and I couldn't stop the smile from growing on my face as I watched them.

It was so romantic; Carlos had done it in front of Zoe's family, because she had quite a large one and they were all so impeccably close and tight-knit. It was a good idea on Carlos's part to propose to her in the middle of her family living room, with everyone surrounding them as he got down on one knee and proclaimed his love for her, pulling out the ring and completely catching her off-guard and in tears. Like I said—completely romantic.

"We should go out for drinks tonight," I suggested, eyes widening slightly as I looked at my best friend. "Get the rest of the girls and celebrate your engagement."

Zoe let out an amused laugh, eyebrows raised as she stared at me in light surprise, dark brown eyes sparkling. "Vera, we literally just had some wine," she pointed out.

I waved my hand to dismiss the fact, clicking my tongue in the process. "So? You're engaged! We'll get Sabine, Peyton, and Willow and go to Tonic for some drinks and dinner. It'll be fun," I encouraged, knowing that it wouldn't take much to get Zoe to agree. She was always one to go out for a night of fun. Normally it was her trying to drag me out, so this was sort of a nice change of circumstances.

"Alright, fine," Zoe conceded, giggling at her own lack of fight before standing up, and gathering her dark brown hair to put up in a messy pony tail. "But if we're going out then I gotta get home now. Are we gonna meet there?"

I nodded, standing up as well and grabbing both of our now empty wine glasses. "Yeah. Eight o'clock?" I asked, feeling a light chill travel up my spine as my bare feet touched the cold woodened flooring.

Zoe grinned, zipping up her coat and heading towards the door after grabbing her bag. "I'll see you then," she said, opening the dark grey front door before shouting, "Love you, V!" and shutting it behind her.

Once I had put the glasses in the dishwasher, I had taken my phone and texted my three friends, asking them if they could come out for the small get together later tonight. Thankfully, Zoe had called them while she was here to inform them of her news—I could literally hear their enthusiastic squeals through the phone. After getting all three of their confirmation texts, I took a hold of two manuscripts I had brought home with me and returned to the couch, turning on the television as a sort of background noise as I did my work.

It was both a good thing and an annoyance that I had already drank my wine instead of doing so while I edited these manuscripts; last time I had drank while working, I had accidentally spilled the wine and decided to save my work instead, placing it safely on the couch and letting the wine drip to the floor. Safe to say I had to throw out a pretty white carpet due to an ugly red stain and my extreme stupidity.

*****

The goose bumps were littered across the skin of my legs as the bitterly cold breeze from outside hit the back of them while I entered the dimly lighted bar. It was a fairly big and popular joint here on seventh avenue; with a long marble-top bar on the right side of the room with dozens of stools and three bartenders to accommodate, and rows of small rectangular tables on the other side for people to also sit, with booth seats next to the wall and chairs on the other side of the table. There were shelves upon shelves behind the bartenders, of course, containing the liquor and music playing through the speakers on the ceiling with a fair volume.