Wrong Number [2018] Harry Styles

11. safe [narrated]

Am I supposed to trust Harry?, I wonder, standing up from the stool and looking for my ex friends in the crowd.

I already sent Harry my location, knowing how dangerous it could be. I actually have no idea who he is, I just know his name and his zodiac sign, which I can't do much with if the police asks who the hell kidnapped me. I guess I wouldn't be alive to tell anyone anyway.

But I'm drunk and upset, I just want to get out of here.

Although I want to convince myself I'm fine with it, the weight of anxiety sits in my belly.

Monica's head pops up in the middle of the dancing crowd as she approaches me. She sees my intention to leave and hurries up to meet me next to the bar stools.

"You're leaving?" She asks with a worried look.

When she invited me, she was genuine and friendly, but she probably didn't think of how I would feel watching my ex kissing my ex friend, who he cheated on me with.

"Yes," I say while nodding at the same time, "Thanks for inviting me, though."

"Is someone picking you up? I know you don't have a car and I don't want you to walk home all alone."

"Don't worry," I smile trying to look calm, "A friend is picking me up."

"Is it safe?"

The doubting increases.

I can tell her, but what would she do about it? She is one of the many friends that chose Jake's side of the story, it doesn't feel like she would do much, if she even cared.

"Yes," I reply.

"Ok," She looks at me awkwardly, "Well, see you, I guess."

I shrug before hugging her and saying goodbye, heading to the exit door.

It is one in the morning, so as soon as I step out of the club, I notice the freezing cold coming my way. I try to get some warmth by hugging myself and shrinking in my place, but it isn't doing much. In front of me there is a really long queue of people waiting to get in the club, so I walk to the side of the street, where everyone can still see me if someone tries to hurt me.

By the road there is a black jeep parked and a tall man comes out of it, looking for something. Someone.

I know I should approach him, in case he doesn't know exactly who he is picking up. Harry only could've told him I'm wearing red.

Terrified and cold, I cross the road to the other side, the man's eyes on me.

"Ariel?" He asks raising his eyebrows.

The man seems to be between the ages of forty and fifty, he has grey hair and some wrinkles in his face, and a friendly smile.

"Yes. Chad?"

"The one and only," He says jokingly, probably seeing the fear and doubt in my face. "Harry sent me to pick you up."

I nod nervously and sigh shrugging. Whatever.

I'll just send my location to Monica. Friends or not, she wouldn't check on me if I sent my location until I confirmed I was home, photo included.

I get in the car after the man opens the back door for me. The seats are so freaking comfortable I almost moan, if it wasn't for the fact that I am getting in a stranger's car, trusting someone I texted for two weeks.

Maybe Chad could tell me more about him. Or maybe he was the actual Harry.

"So you're, like, Harry's driver?"