Madness ➮ Harry Styles AU

B9

Eventually, her temper died down, thankfully. Yet, they still continued to speak to each other as the boy harnessed this petty aesthetic of admiration within his eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to slap it off of his face.

She stood there, completely motionless except for the parts of her that she used to speak, as the employee began to inch closer to her; vaguely, but still noticeable.

Every step he took was a twist to the blade that was already embedded into my sanity. And their deteriorating proximity was maddening.

Now, the black and white figures alive upon the screen were just a hair away from each other; essentially intertwined.

My throat hitched, afraid to breathe. My mind kept telling me that what was I was watching wasn't real, and that it was time for me to wake up from this horrid nightmare.

And with eyes forced open, I watched them kiss.

It would have been graceful, if just the thought of didn't tear me apart.

My surroundings shifted; now lying as distorted figures, blinded through hot tears and raw animosity.

I turned around swiftly, physically and emotionally incapable of watching anymore.

But even so, I saw them.

And all I felt was pain. So much that I was convinced that every element of my body had devoted itself into making me suffer.

Yet, the thing that hurt the most, was knowing that Ashley didn't do a thing to stop it. That she had forgotten about me, about us, and was more than willing to toss me into the streets for someone else.

"Who is he?!" I yelled at Matthew, far too ashamed to show my tear-streaked face.

My desperate shouts echoed within the small room, silencing it and it's inhabitants.

"Who is he?!"

This time, I was louder, screaming the words as if they were all I knew.

"No need to get angry, Christopher, this is just a minor problem with a simple solution." Matthew stated much too calmly for my liking.

"Answer. My. Fucking. Question."

The words were spoken slowly, a hurricane of emotions swirling beneath them, and the venom laced within the sentence was evident and yet, painfully terrifying.

"Will," he stated pointedly, the name thrown at me like a dart. "His name is Will Colbari."

God, even his name made him sound like an asshole.

But I guess that knowing his name was something to confine in. Yet, seeing realistically that I could find him and beat him, seemed all the more reassuring to me.

"I want him fired."

The phrase wasn't meant to be a statement, but rather a demand the moment it passed my trembling lips.

"Christopher, why do you always believe you're in charge of everything?" Slowly, Matthew pulled a cigarette out of the pocket in his jeans, and lit it with the slightest flick before continuing. "I'll have you know that Will is one of the most well-deserved psychiatrists I have ever met."

With that, he released a waterfall of smoke into the air, clawing fiercely at the tip of my chin.

And I saw ghosts of them, intertwined within each other, written upon the smoke, painted on the walls, and projected onto the back of my eyelids. It was horrifying, how my vision was branded with the memory of them together.

"So you just brought me here to show me this, and then tell me that I can do nothing about it?"

"Well I didn'tsay that exactly."

The edge of his lower lip turned upwards deviously. Whether it was to be in satisfaction or amusement, it was still disturbing, nonetheless.

"I'd like to make you a deal, a.. proposition, if you may." Matthew continued. "I'll gladly fire Mr. Colbari, as well as persuade your dear fiancée that this," He pointed to the computer screen, which was now paused at them together. "Well," he chuckled darkly. "That this never happened."

"Are you... Are you suggesting that you... that you-"

"Yes. Christopher, we're already been doing this for two and a half years. If we've been convincing her that you never hurt her, then don't you think this will be fairly easy in comparison?"

His reactions were so calm, as if he were selecting what to eat for dinner, not advertising that we brainwash Ashley.

"I don't know, okay. This is wrong... this is all wrong we shouldn't be doing this." My conscious spoke on my behalf. It was always there, telling me that what I was doing was obviously wrong, but what choice other did I have?

"Don't back out on me now," he laughed, taking another drag from his cigarette. "And also, don't forget that I could always send you to jail for physical and sexual abuse."

As much as I hated to say it, he was right, he was in control of this entire operation and I had given him all the necessities in order to to initiate it.

"Fine, ok, fine." The simple statement came out sounding more like a growl than an agreement, but I didn't care. "How much do you want?"

"Why do you always assume the everything comes with a price."

"Because I know you."

"Very well," His lips, still lapped carelessly around his smoke, pulled into a mischievous smirk. "Six-thousand pounds."

"Six-Thousand? Matthew what the hell? What percentage is going towards Ashley anyway?"

"Eighty-five." His tone was quipped and rushed. "You already know this."

"Well, what are you doing with the other fifteen percent then?"

The concave shadow of his face within the dark room shifted to focus on me, oddly quick and suddenly attentive.

"I don't think that's any of your business, is it?"

Stricken by his assertiveness and just that standoffish vibe he radiated, I simply shook my head, silently, yet, unwillingly agreeing.

Reluctantly, my fingers found their way to my checkbook, stuffed into the back pocket of my jeans and pulled it into view.

And after asking and having been given a pen, I begun to scribble the information on the check. (It had kittens on it. Ashley liked kittens.)

It was torn off with this somewhat of a refreshing sound, then given to Matthew; a messy "£6,000" followed by a long line scribbled onto the parchment.

He accepted it from me gracefully, his green eyes vaguely analyzing it while doing so. And with this sly, conniving, facade painted skilfully onto his features, he stated a professional, "Thank you for your business, Mr. Eve."

(A/N: Sorry this chapter was short but eaRLY UPDATE HEY HEY HEY andthere was a lot of important stuff in the chapter so I hope yoU PAYED ATTENTION. [and if you did, you probably can piece the entire mystery together, mystery as in why Ashley is there, and what Matthew is spending the money on.]

I've always wanted to be one of those authors who communicates with their readers so if you have any questions, ask away! And I'll answer any of them as long as they don't provide any spoilers. ;)

Also, I'd love to hear you guy's theories about what's going on, so don't be shy!

Dedication goes to my bae @kneeesha for not fitting into that dress that one time. Check out her book Delusions IT'S FANTASTIC.

And also, £6,000 is approximately $10,000, just so you know.)