Brutality | Harry Styles

Chapter 3

Perhaps it was because of the distracting thoughts running through her mind that Melody found herself on the sidewalk, walking across town. She didn't remember pulling on her thick jacket, didn't recall turning off the lights in her flat or locking the door, but she could hear the distant sound of the lock clicking into place, and that was enough self-assurance for her to continue walking.

An entire week had passed—a week full of ineffective studying and coffee-fueled classes—and Melody couldn't help the constantly reeling thoughts of Harry and run-down, abandoned warehouses. She supposed it was the mystery of his goodbye that was bothering her. "You're the reason I got into boxing, love. Cheers."

That could be why the makeshift studio in her apartment was still littered with crumpled up sketches and messy ideas for writing, why she couldn't focus on anything for more than five minutes. All she could seem to think about were Harry's narrowed eyes in the bar. She could still see the tape marks on his callused hands, still smell the potent contents of his glass as he tipped it back.

Melody didn't like the fight that she witnessed the previous week. She didn't like being jostled in the crowd or the screaming in her ears. She hated the sound of gloves smacking into skin and scarlet blood that would surely stain the floor of the ring. She didn't enjoy washing dried beer off of her shoes or scrubbing at the blue stamp that branded her skin more like a tattoo. She especially didn't like the enthusiasm that the crowd showed. But somehow, for some reason, she wasn't able to stop herself from abandoning her schoolwork and picking her way across town, back toward the site of so much noise and violence.

The night was growing steadily darker. It was just about the same time as the journey she had taken the previous week, but the sky loomed with heavy clouds, blocking the setting sun and leaving Melody with nothing but streetlights to see by. She hugged the jacket tighter around her frame, trailing absentmindedly north. She almost didn't realize when she had reached the street where the warehouse and Brute's were located.

With a frightened gasp, Melody lifted her eyes. She had heard the distant echo of what sounded suspiciously like a gunshot. Her head swiveled back and forth, and she realized that she was standing on the corner where Cooper had met her the week before. It looked different, however.

Melody was mildly confused as she surveyed the empty street. There were no crowds packed against the wall of the warehouse, which looked even drearier without the added energy. There was no menacing bouncer, no skimpily-dressed woman collecting money. Just an eerie quiet that was occasionally broken by distant sounds of music or laughter from Brute's.

As she crossed the street, Melody wondered whether she'd gotten the days mixed up. It was Friday, wasn't it? She wasn't so sure as she approached the door that led into the warehouse's darkened entrance. She tried the doorknob once with no luck and groaned in frustration.

Unfortunately, walking all the way across town on a chilly Friday night for absolutely no reason, when she certainly had better things to do, wasn't the end to Melody's bad luck. Just as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she began to hear the soft pattern of rain on the worn metal of the warehouse. She glance up at the ever-darkening sky, flinching as a fat raindrop splashed over her forehead.

Melody swung her head around sharply as she heard a clatter like a glass bottle on pavement. She saw nothing, however, but the quickening rain as it fell around her. The stupidity of her decision dawned on her. She had crossed over to the north side of town in the dark, all alone without telling anyone where she was going. Sirens sounded in the distance, a police car probably en route to the site of the gunshot she had heard only minutes before.

Melody chewed on her lip as she began to shiver. This street was even more dimly-lit than any of the road she had traveled on her way here. There was only one streetlight within visible proximity and it flickered haphazardly. Most of the light that she could see glowed from the front window of Brute's, neon reds and blues. As a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead, Melody set off toward the bar.