𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋! | harry styles

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Tia laces a bright red corset up, pushing her chest up so high her boobs are practically tucked beneath her chin.

"So. Who is he?"

My head swivels around so quickly I'm surprised it doesn't fall right off. "Who's who?"

She gestures to the phone in my hands. "You've checked that, like, eight times in the last five minutes."

I can feel the blush creeping up my chest. I toss the phone back into my locker and cover it with my jeans. Out of sight, out of mind.

"You're crazy," I reply, adjusting my stockings and trying to look distracted.

Tia looks at me knowingly, with a wry smile that says she can see right through me. "Uh-huh."

Closing the locker, I slip my shoes on. While it's nice to gossip like two regular girls, I don't want to be the topic of said change room gossip; especially not here where I try so hard to keep my private life private.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Tia's laughter follows me out of the change room.

"Still no Nick?" I ask Leah, who's now sitting with her long legs on the dressing table, flipping through a magazine. I'm sure she's probably supposed to be out on the floor, I don't know—working, but it's well-known that she and Nick don't see eye-to-eye, and without him around she mostly does as she pleases.

"You got a girl boner for Nick tonight, Scar?"

I wrinkle my nose. "No. I just need to talk to him."

She sighs. "I'm sure he'll drag his vile ass in at some point."

I adore Leah, I do. But as much I love her, I really hope I'm not around when Nick decides he's had enough of her attitude.

At almost nine o'clock the club is still relatively quiet. Some of the tables are half full, and there are a few guys at the bar hanging around, but it's too early in the night for private dances, and judging by the glasses of cheap beer in their hands half of them wouldn't be worth my time anyway.

I can feel eyes on me as I walk toward the bar, feel the warmth of the lust-filled gazes. Tonight, Rose is dark seduction in black lace and thigh-high stockings, with dark eyes, lips the color of blood, and short blond hair that skims my jaw. Tonight, she's bold and seductive and she's everything they want. Everything they need, even if just for ten minutes.

Even with Rose sitting delicately in place, hiding the real me from the assessing eyes, I'm still dying for something to calm my mind for a moment. Something to help take the edge of the worry that sits bunched up in my muscles and in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey, Jon."

Jon pushes the headphones off his ears, letting them rest on his shoulders. "Hey!" he says, flashing me a sparkly smile. "What's up, beautiful?"

His eyes are dark and shiny, and there are two perfectly-placed dimples in each of his cheeks. I can see why Leah is attracted to him, but if he didn't ask us all for "a loan" every other shift, and if I didn't see him constantly snorting lines off of the nearest flat surface, I'd like him a whole lot more.

"Gimme something I can sweat to, okay?" I yell over the music.

The dimples in his cheeks deepen, and his eyes are so chemical-bright they're dazzling. "Right on! I have the perfect thing!" He turns back to the turntables, and I slip back behind the stage.

I stretch a little, just enough to warm up my shoulders, but I'm really just eager to get onto the stage and get moving. And it turns out Jon does have the perfect song. It begins and it's like the whole world slips away, the whole place empties and it's just me, the stage, and the music. I pour everything I have into the dance, and by the time my three and a half minutes are up I'm panting so hard I can feel my heart beating in my mouth. The insides of my legs smart from the pole, and I think I accidentally ripped the clasp off of my halter top as it came off, but when James finds me out the back with a wad of tips in his hand and a huge smile on his face, it's all totally worth it.