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She's casual and she don't mind
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Harry Styles
It's one of those nights. I can't sleep, no matter how hard I try. I've sat on the floor with my guitar, I've sat on the edge of the bed with my guitar, I've sat on the floor with a book, I've sat on the edge of my bed with a book. I can't sleep.
For some reason it's those blue eyes my thoughts keep wandering back to.
The time was now 8.30, I've been awake all night and by this point, there was no point in me even trying to sleep. I always do this, always fucking do this. One line turns into two, two turns into four and four turns into a whole night awake.
Now I'm stone cold sober, hating myself for always doing the same thing.
I keep thinking about Harlow, there's something about her I'm so god damn fascinated by.
Much more fascinated than I ever would've anticipated.
The thing is she's clever, very very clever and so successful yet I can't help but think the girl who wears the constant smile and showers strangers with love is just a character, a mask even. When I was watching her last night the smile did fade, it faded but then someone caught her eye and it returned.
And that's what made me follow her outside, only for my eyes to be met with the picture of that little boy holding her wrist like he was the shit.
But I was too high to make sense of much else other than the fact she's vegan, that was her ex and she likes old music and musicals.
I like that though, for someone who you'd expect to have the typical leather chair, wooden desk office and big black car, she's actually pretty cool. I saw her record collection too, she has taste, immaculate taste.
She hates me so much and I love it because she knows she can't hate me in a club full of people. It's so amusing to me, seeing her cringe at the slightest thought of affection and I mean I'm not one for affection, not that I've ever experienced it much, but Harlow acts as if this deal of ours is the thing that's gonna take her out.
It's not and I can promise her that. There's a lot she'll find out, just not now.
I step out the shower and wrap a towel round my waist, hair dripping down my back as I search for my phone. My phone however is nowhere to be found. Of course it's at her club, of fucking course it is.
A drive to good old Club Carnal at 9AM it is I guess.
Grey joggers, black high top converse and an old green college sweatshirt that I found in the back of my wardrobe...not the best of outfits I've ever worn but to go pick up my phone, grab a coffee and come home again, it'll do.
Harlows got me in the mood for some 80's music. I remember her playing some David Bowie last night and Space Oddity has been playing on repeat in my head since I got in the shower so David Bowie it is.
Three songs later and I'm pulling into the car park round the back of the place. Don't know whether I'm supposed to go around the front or come round the back but either way, I just wanna get my phone and leave until tonight.
Ah, how do I get in?
Nice one, now I'm stood at the back door like an absolute tit.
What can I do now? Call someone? I fucking wish.
It's that moment where I'm stood thinking about what to do, that the memorable small dark green car pulls into the car park, the familiar driver looking awfully confused as to why I'm stood here. What are the chances?
Out she steps in a pair of gym shorts, with a hoodie that's the same colour as her car covering them as she stands up. On her feet are black high top converse, the same as mines.
Aw, such a cute fake couple.
I'm also starting to think her favourite colour might just be green.
"Morning?" Her quiet, soft sounding voice speaks as she wanders over with confusion written all over that pretty face of hers.
"Left my phone love," I tell her to which she rolls her eyes because clearly I'm the exact opposite of what she wanted to see this morning.
The bags beneath her eyes have me questioning whether she went home for a restless night too. Maybe she did sleep but either way, she didn't sleep well because it was just after four AM that she dropped me off and it's 9.15 now.
It's nice to see her stripped back without one of those intimidating boss lady black dresses on. Her wispy brown hair is up in a bun on the top of her head and her skin is bare, not that it seemed like she was wearing much makeup last night anyway. Still somehow she manages to make a massive hoodie look cool.
"You look like you need a coffee," I suggest, hoping she'll maybe join me and we can share a sober conversation.
"And you look like you need your phone." She mumbles, fiddling with her keys to find the right one to unlock the door in front of her with a timid expression on her face.
Oh no, she dropped them
...guess I better pick them up.
I reach down to grab her keys before she even had the time to event I k about picking them up. Not only are these the keys to her club, they're the keys to her car. Looks like Harlow is coming for a coffee with me after all.
She doesn't look impressed at all, her expressionless face was staring at me like I'm the devil. She's cute, small and short tempered, how adorable.
"Harry.." Harlow sighs with the quietest eye roll I've ever seen.
She's much less intimidating in this setting, however when she's playing up to her role as the big boss, she is actually slightly intimidating. That's coming from a guy who's in charge of a whole gang too.
"Looks like we!re going for a coffee Harlow. A little bonding time never hurt anyone." I wink at her, throwing her keys into my pocket before wandering over to my own car.
I expected her to follow, expected her to climb into the passenger seat of my car but she didn't. Instead she sat down on the step and just rested her head in her hands with a pout like a sulky teenager. She's quite stubborn, I've realised that in the past few days but stubbornness doesn't phase me because I'm just as bad, trust me.
"Get in girlfriend, let's go." I chuckle jokingly, knowing she can't go anywhere and that she'll definitely hate the fact I've called her that.
Much to my surprise, she stands up with another roll of her eyes and heads over, dragging her feet like this was a chore. For her maybe it is, but for me this is far too amusing. The poor girls tired, I can see it in the bags beneath her eyes and I'm starting to think she's one of those people with the whole 'don't talk to me until I've had my morning coffee' attitudes. This is just funny to me considering I've only ever seen her as this boss woman batting her eyelashes and strutting around the club with a power walk.
Her scent fills the air in my car as she sits down in the passenger seat with a pout, shutting the door a little more violently than I'd have expected but that was probably just her way of letting me know she doesn't want to be here at all.
"You do this to all your girlfriends?" She scowls, crossing her arms after she fastened her seatbelt.
Oh sweetheart no, not at all.
"I've never had a girlfriend actually, you're my first." I tease with a wink because my flirtatious nature seems to be the thing that drives her up the wall.
"Yeah that's obvious," she responds with another eye roll that makes me laugh.
It's not that I don't want a girlfriend, it's that I've never had one so I just know it would end badly. Everyone my age has already been in several relationships so they have all these expectations they're taking into things, yet I have none because I've got no experiences to base my expectations on.
Besides, love fucks people up and I don't think the world would cope if I was anymore fucked up than I already am.
I'm better alone, with random girls who's name I don't even need to know, who's feelings I don't have to care about and who's only interests in me are my dick for the night. I'm perfectly fine with that.
I suppose that has come to a halt for now though, seen as I'm 'with' Harlow. I don't really mind though, I could probably do with the break from the constant sex. I've got a whole new person to investigate, find out all the things I don't already know and that shit is so much more interesting to me than sex ever will be.
"Look babe we have matching shoes," I chuckle, to which she turns her head and furrows her brows at me and if I've just told her I'm a murderer...I mean.
If looks could kill...
If looks could kill them I'd happily accept this as my reason for death.
"We don't have to pretend right now Harry, nobody's fucking watching." Harlow explains, turning her head to stare out the window and pretend I don't exist.
Who said I was pretending? I'm just doing what I do best, annoy people.
Time for some music I think. Something uplifting, something to lighten the mood. Maybe some heavy metal that'll waken her up, maybe some old love songs to go along with this whole charade of ours. In fact, I know the perfect song for this moment. At this point, her frustration and deep hatred towards me is genuinely attractive because there's nothing like wanting what you can't have.
That familiar intro starts playing through the stereo system and it looks as if she's recognised the song from the first three seconds. It doesn't surprise me really, she seems to have good taste in music but it's the face she's glaring at me with. She doesn't look pleased and I love it.
"Cheer up sleepy jean..." I sing along to the music, only singing that line of course.
At this point I could tell she was trying to hate it, but that smirk on her face says different.
"It's okay, you can admit I'm funny birdy," I tell her with a grin of my own, turning the car into the drive thru coffee shop.
"Birdy? Did you just call-"
"Oh I could hide beneath the wings of the bluebird as she sings." I explain, completely out of tune to the actual song considering it was in the third chorus now.
She reminds me of a little bird, small, feisty but pretty. Delicate, intelligent but timid. Now she's reminding me of the little bluebird from the song, I mean, cheer up sleepy jean.
Now we had the next task, the actual ordering of the coffee. Do I play it cool and just assume she likes a latte? What if she's more of an americano kinda person though, maybe she even likes an iced coffee. Fine, I'll ask and be nice.
"How'd you like your coffee?"
God that was difficult.
"Black." She answers, not even thinking twice about it like I do. Simple, I like it.
She's really one of them isn't she, the black coffee, record collecting, old soul kinda person. I mean I can't say I expected it, I don't think anyone would expect the owner of the best and busiest club in the city to also be the typical 'old soul' person. I like it though, it's interesting and unique.
"Two black coffees and two bacon rolls please." I respond to the man who just asked our order.
I don't even like black coffee but Harlow drinking a black coffee and me sitting next to her with a latte is severely damaging to my ego.
When I look at her she's looking at me disgusted, like I had two heads and now I'm questioning what I actually asked the man for. Two black coffees, two bacon rolls? I did say that right?
Oh,
Oh shit.
She's vegan.
"Harry I'm vegan?" She exclaims through a sigh of frustration.
Well I don't even know what vegan people eat other than vegetables so I really have shot myself in the foot here. I thought I was being nice by getting her food too. I'm never being nice again, this is embarrassing.
"Sorry, can we make one of those bacon rolls something vegan?" I ask the man who thankfully hadn't closed the window yet because if he had, I'd either be eating both or she'd have to stop being vegan for ten minutes and just eat the bacon.
"Sure, a vegan croissant? Fruit salad? Vegan cheese-"
"The croissant will be-" I interrupt the man before he goes and rattles off his whole fucking menu to me like a prick. A croissant is simple, she'll like that.
"I'm actually not hungry, thank you." Harlow interrupts me.
"Hey babe don't stress, it's on me" I say turning to her with a wink before turning back to the man, "the croissant will be good thanks."
The fury I just saw in her face...Jesus Christ.
Hangry little birdy.
"15.57 please sir," Before I know it Harlows waving her card in front of me in response to the man because she's too small to reach all the way over, cute.
I move her hand away with a slight chuckle, despite her scary little stare and I dig into my own pockets for my card. It's not often I'm buying things for people so she's lucky she's got those pretty blue eyes because they do things to me, weird things like wanting to buy her coffee.
"Harry let me fucking-"I place my fingers over her lips and tell her to shh, placing her hand back down in her lap which causes her to look at me in disgust. My god she's stubborn as fuck.
"Sorry about that, girlfriend gets cranky in the morning, don't you love?" I chuckle, slapping my card down on the reader, earning a laugh from the man behind the counter and the scariest stare from Harlow.
We drive off to the next window and Harlow doesn't even talk, she looks absolutely livid and it's hilarious. The little pout, the crossed arms and the fact she's staring out the window probably plotting my death makes me laugh.
The coffees come and I pass her over one, as well as her vegan croissant pastry thing. Vegans, bloody pests they are to feed. Her eyes lit up the minute that coffee was in her hands...is that all it takes to tame the devil?
I don't even like black coffee, it tastes like shit. How the fuck does she drink this?
"What brought you to the club so early then birdy?" I ask her, but the second I opened my mouth the little smile she was wearing formed back into a frown.
She hates me.
I hate me.
Everyone hates me.
It's funny.
"Couldn't sleep." She sighs, a sigh that was as if she was trying to be nice now because maybe she is just one of those people who don't socialise unless they're caffeinated...or maybe I'm just a prick.
I am a prick, seeing her all frustrated has become my new form of entertainment. She makes it way too easy, birdys just so uptight but maybe she's like me and sleep is a luxury rather than the thing you get 8 hours of each night. She copes by being frustrated and excessively working, I cope by doing drugs and being a dick. Both arguably just as unhealthy.
She's not easy to read and I am just making assumptions but I've seen enough people that play a happy character around other people to spot one.
Besides with what I do know, this happy character really is just a front.
"You not eating that?" I ask, clicking play on my phone and hoping for the best.
Fleetwood Mac, this car never lets me down.
"I'll have it for lunch, I'm not hungry." She replies, with a slight smile too.She looks much more friendly when she smiles, birdy has a pretty smile.
"What's with the teenage college boy outfit?" She asks me, pushing the stray hairs away from her face.
Wow, so she does know how to make conversation, interesting. This was the last thing I expected, her talking to me. I mean yeah it was pretty patronising but it was something at least.
"I am a teenage boy," I shoot back.
Her eyes widen in shock and it looked as if her heart dropped to her stomach. Jesus she really is that easy to wind up.
"Kidding, I'm two years older than you." I chuckle to myself.
She's probably questioning how I know her age but little does she know I know her actual birthday too. I know a lot more about her than she thinks, a lot more than I should. Things I feel guilty about.
We've all made mistakes, and we can all make things right...right?
I can make things right.