TW - This chapter mentions drug abuse, and talks about the extremities of grief.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TOPICS ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU, PUT YOURSELVES FIRST. I LOVE YOU <3
It gets a bit emotional at the end, well I cried writing it lol so I think it's emotional.
We walk into the club and I am met with the similar smell that I am far too fond of.
Me and Louis are never sure what the places Martin signs us up to attend are like, most of the time we've never even been ourselves before. Today wasn't a formal PR appearance specifically for the club, but Martin had been paid to make sure it looked like we were attending the club just because we wanted to. Another form of promo.
Once we arrive at the club and make it through the doors, we are escorted by our security team to a booth in the back corner of the club, somewhere that has clearly been reserved for us.
From what I can see this isn't a classic London nightclub, this is more like a speakeasy, but modernised.
Louis notices the different exterior and huffs to himself, coming to a realisation about something.
"Fucks sake, I told Martin to keep us out of this shit again." He mutters to himself; I don't think that was meant for me to hear.
We slide into the booth and Lou orders our usual drinks. After a while the lights begin to fade down and I notice some doors to a new area start to open slowly.
My attention is drawn to the dancefloor that has now appeared and is crowded with people cramped together and dancing under the tinted warm, orange lights.
It seems like Martin has tabled us in the VIP section, but as it is now 1am the door would open to the normal part of the club and the everyone would combine.
"Excuse me?" Louis quickly asked the bartender who was placing our drinks on the table.
"What's the name of this place?" He adds.
"Burnt Orange" the bartender nods politely, keeping his etiquette I'm sure is drilled into him.
I look at Louis and roll my eyes.
The bartender walks away, and I move closer to Louis, gesturing up to my phone to take a selfie of the two of us.
We wiggle into each other and he poses by holding a kiss to my cheek. I smile and take the picture and add a filter. I post it to my story with the location tag whilst taking a sip of my Cosmo.
I see Louis pulling a joint out of his pocket and smirk at him.
"You bring me one?" knowing full well he wouldn't smoke without me.
"Of course, B" He lights it for me and then lights his own, and we both take long drags before blowing out the smoke so it's floating around us.
I'm one of few people who prefer smoking cigarettes to weed, but with Louis it's always fun to smoke joints. It's like our thing.
Plus, it's easier for me and Louis to let go and not allow thoughts of Meredith cloud our mind if we're high. This way, we can do what we need to do more easily.
Whilst we're smoking, a different kind of bartender walks over to us with a tray that looks like it doesn't have anything on it.
He places it onto the table and me and Louis glance down at what is on there. He looks up at me and sighs apologetically at me. We both put down our joints.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to, B. I can go get someone else to do it."
I appreciate his constant concern for me, but lucky for him, this is the rare occasion I'm in the mood.
"Two for you and one for me?" I ask him, knowing if I have any more than one, things will get dangerous.
"Whatever you want B." He knows not to push me, he trusts me.
This is the stuff we haven't told Meredith. She doesn't know the extent to the hold Martin has on us, and she doesn't need to. This way Martin stays happy, and M stays safe.
I lean over the tin tray, that's resting on the bigger black one and take the small metal straw lay next to the white powder in front of me. I plug one side of my nose and deeply inhale the substance until I feel that similar instant rush that ripples through my entire body, making me shiver.
I place the straw down and slide the tray over to Lou and he does the same thing, inhaling the remaining two lines on the tin tray.
We smile at each other and I sense a hint of pity on his face. I know he always feels for me at this point. It has always been difficult for me, years of taking it too far when it comes to hard substances. But I know my limits now, and as long as Martin respects that, I can do what he needs me to do.
When we're done, Lou slides out of the booth and offers his hand to help me up. I take it and go to stand up but as soon as I do, he pulls me in towards him to meet his lips.
I feel his soft skin against me instantly, and I reciprocate the strength behind his mouth without even thinking. His tongue dances across my lips and takes my lower lip between his teeth grunting. His hands snake around my waist and he pushes me into the wall next to the booth. I smooth my hands up into his hair as he begins to suck on my neck, with a lustful power.
I practically hear Lou realise that he's done enough when he stops and pulls away from me, eyes glistening and giving me that smirk that pokes out from the side of his mouth, his lips pressed together.
He knows he's good at that.
He slowly walks back, allowing me to escape from his grasp against the wall and we walk over to the dancefloor, heads turning to stare at us, trying to figure out who we are.
Lou spins me under his arm and pulls me against him once we reach the centre of the floor. I pulls me closer, so my back is pressed against his chest, and he moves his hands down to the outsides of my hips. He starts to sway us slowly to the beat of the music and leans down until I feel his breath against my ear. With the drugs running through my bloodstream, every single touch is so heightened, his fingers feel like they're burning my skin.
"It's so fucking annoying we're so good at this." He almost grunts into my ear. I don't need to turn around to see that he's smirking; I can feel it against my skin.
The dynamic has never been difficult between me and Lou, everything has always been so natural. It made it so much easier when we started all of this, and once we were high, all we had to do was follow our instincts.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss having him that way though, He's fucking fantastic in bed. That's where I'm jealous of Meredith.
Although, I'll never forget the time Lou let me watch them. Fuck, that was a good night. Lou's only rule was 'no touching'. As long as I didn't touch him or Meredith, I was free to do what I want.
Wow, what a fucking memorable night that was.
After a few songs of sweaty dancing and lots of staring from people, coming to the realisation of where they know us from, Lou walks me back over to our booth and signals to the bartender to bring us another round.
We sit down and I get my phone out to go to post another picture when I notice a message from someone I don't expect.
'@H_Styles swiped up to your story'
Harry: New clothes already? I'm offended.
I can practically hear the smug tone of his voice as I read the message to myself in my head.
It's the selfie of me in my room, showing off my new outfit. I guess he hasn't seen me in any other clothes than something he's designed before.
I chuckle to myself at the thought of him searching to find my account on Instagram as I type my reply.
B: Don't worry, yours are safe and folded up in my flat.
He almost immediately replies.
H: Good girl.
Fuck, does he even know what he does to me? I get that disgusting, giddy feeling in my stomach as I grin to myself reading his message.
Lou quickly clocks on to my change in mood and looks over my shoulder at what I'm reading.
"Holy shit!! You two are fucking aren't you!!!" He shouts, too loud for a public area as far as I'm concerned. I'm supposed to be his girlfriend for fucks sake.
"No!! I've known him for two days Lou!! Now can you keep your fucking voice down."
"Mmhmm, not fucking? Okay, I believe you" He totally does not believe me.
"Lou, we're working together, it's just a bit of healthy banter."
"Yep, okay, sure thing B."
I sigh, knowing I'm not going to win this argument tonight.
I look at the time, 1:45am.
"Can we leave at 2?" I ask Lou, knowing he just wants to get home to Meredith.
"Yeah, good idea." He says, smiling at me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I move to take another picture of us both, this time of me kissing his forearm that is now holding my neck, forcing me to lean back into him.
I post the picture on my story and flick through all my posts from the night already. Harry has seen the pictures of me and Lou. I wonder what he thinks.
Fucks sake Bryoni why do you care; he is practically your boss.
I sign to myself and melt further into Louis' grasp. He notices my movement and I hear him chuckle to himself quietly and place an elongated kiss to the top of my head.
He really is the best.
~~~~~~~
We quietly open the door to my flat and tiptoe into the kitchen. I go to get three bottles of water for all of us and stop when I notice Meredith asleep on the sofa. Despite Lou telling her to not wait up, she clearly fell asleep waiting for us to get back. It's now just gone 2:30am, we ended up staying at the club a bit longer than we planned.
Lou notices M, walks over to her and gently sweeps her up in his arms, and her reaction was immediately to snuggle into his neck, even in her sleep, being drawn to his smell.
I smile to myself; I love how much he takes care of her.
"I'll bring some water in when I come past Lou" I whisper, not wanting to wake her.
He nods and starts to walk down the hallway to the spare room they have basically claimed as their own, like their own secret world.
I don't mind them being here in the slightest, it's the least I can do for them. The press knows Meredith is my best friend, and they think Louis is my boyfriend, so both of them staying here is really the only way they can escape everything. If I can do that for them, I will.
I open the fridge and see some left-over pizza from I don't even know how long ago. I grab a piece and then go to grab the water I said I would. I pull out three bottles from the bottom fridge and go to take two of them to M and Lou.
I walk into their bedroom and place them onto the bedside table next to Louis. Meredith's body is completely tangled with his in every way possible and her breaths are shallow, her face telling me she is completely asleep.
Louis stirs and turns his head to face me as I place the bottles down.
"Thanks, B. Night."
"Love you, Lou." I whisper.
I go to leave but say something I say far too often to him.
"I'm sorry for ruining your night again." I mutter so quietly I doubt he even heard me. But he did.
"Shut the fuck up you dickhead, go to sleep."
I chuckle under my breath and turn to leave the room, closing the door as quietly as I can.
I go into the lounge area and start to turn off the TV and all the lights still left on. I reach for the remote and as I do lean to sit down on the edge of the sofa.
I drop my head into my hands, resting my elbows onto my knees and take a deep breath.
I hate doing this to them.
I ride myself through my little moment and go to stand up and keep doing what I need to do before going to bed.
Once all the lights are off, I walk over to the kitchen to grab my bottle of water when my phone starts to buzz on the counter.
It's my Dad.
It's late, I know what this is.
I accept the call and straight away I am faced with exactly what I was expecting.
"Pumpkin..." he sobs, "I need you."
I put the phone down and immediately run down the hallway into my room. I take off my denim shorts and throw on some grey joggers. I grab a random black cardigan and put some trainers on. I don't want to get glass in my foot again.
I grab my keys from the table next to the doorway. I lock the door and walk past the nightguard, who is not even bothered by me leaving as I don't have Lou with me.
I get out of the elevator so I'm in the garage of the building and pull the tarp off my motorcycle. I jump on and start the engine, speeding off out of the building and onto the busy streets.
Whenever I get these calls from my Dad, I don't get time to think, I just have to do. He needs me so I go to him.
As I feel the wind swim through my curls, I finally feel that freedom within myself that I so desperately crave. It's ironic really, at this point in my life I am the opposite of free, but somehow that makes me appreciate the tiny moments I do get the luxury of experiencing that slight sense of freedom.
I always end up having my own existential crisis when it comes to the concept of freedom. Take Meredith for example, did I take her freedom? Or is she still free? Have I trapped her? Is it my fault? She still has the option to do whatever she wants, go wherever she wants, be whoever she wants, but somehow the only thing she truly wants, she can't have, because of me. That isn't freedom. That's fucked up.
I start to slow down the motorcycle as I pull up outside the agency office building, knowing my Dad will still be here, he rarely ever leaves.
I leave my bike parked on the side of the road and run straight into the agency offices.
Before I know it, I'm pacing out of the elevator on the top floor and pushing open the door to my Dads office.
It's not as bad as I was expecting. The broken glass across the mahogany wood floors isn't from a bottle of whiskey, but from a smashed picture frame, and most of his furniture and storage cabinets are still intact.
My Dad is sat on the floor with his legs bent upwards, his elbows resting on his knees and his head facing down to the floor. I can't see his face, but I can hear by the frequency of his breathing that he's been crying.
While he hasn't noticed my presence, I walk over to the table at the back of the office and grab the two bottles of whiskey that are unopened. I run into the bathroom, connected as part of his office, something he had built so it gave him less of a reason to go home. I tip the liquids down the sink and hide the bottles in the trash, so he can't see what I've done.
I tiptoe out into the office, and as my feet step on some glass shards, it makes a crunching noise. My Dad's head snaps up and he looks at me with those eyes and I know what he's thinking about, Mum.
I know it's been hard for him not knowing where she is, the constant mystery of not knowing what happened to her. It breaks him. It's been 4 years now, and no one has been able to find her.
Because of my Dad's excruciating grief, I haven't been able to even process my own. Sometimes I even think my brain has tricked myself into thinking she is coming home, that she's still out there. I know she isn't, but it's easier to just let the idea that, she's just busy doing some job she needed to leave town for, than think about the idea that she's gone forever.
It's not healthy, I know.
He lets out a sob when he sees me, I know I look exactly like my Mum, the same red curly hair. I know this probably doesn't help him.
My eyes start to prick with tears and I feel my insides get itchy and hot as I see him like this. Each time it never gets easier.
I kick all the glass away from around him so I can move to sit down next to him.
As I rest my head onto his shoulder, a tear falls from my eye and lands on our hands that I have just intertwined, his still shaking.
I wipe my eye and see that he is holding the photo of the three of us, just the paper from the frame. It's clear he threw the picture frame at the wall and it smashed, but then broke down after seeing it again, crawling to the floor to retrieve it.
I see on his hands all the dried blood, scratches from the glass, he probably didn't even realise he cut himself.
"I love you Dad, and so did mum." I whisper gently to him, wanting to soothe him whilst he's in this fragile state.
"I know Pumpkin, I just lose it sometimes. The grief... it overwhelms me."
After a few minutes I feel his hands start to stop shaking, and his breathing calms down. I stand up to go and get the first aid kit from the bottom drawer of his desk. I walk back over to him and grab his hand after opening some wipes to clean his cuts.
"I'm so lucky to have you." He mutters to himself.
I smile and start to put plasters and bandages on his hands wherever he needs them. I go and grab the broom from the storage cupboard and brush up all the glass I can see and keep it in the corner. The cleaners will sort the rest tomorrow.
"Dad?" I ask, unsure of how he will react.
"Hmm?" he eventually looks up at me, still sat in the same position on the floor, but looking at his hands as if he was trying to figure out what happened.
"You need to go home tonight." There is a hesitant tone to my voice. I know this is a delicate topic for him.
"No." He snaps.
"But Dad..." I start, but he cuts me off before I can finish.
"Book me a hotel." His tone his harsh and stubborn, something I was trying to desperately to avoid.
"Okay..." I sigh, feeling defeated.
I walk out of his office and get my phone out, I go to call Rosie, she knows the drill by now. My Dad might as well buy that hotel room. He won't go back home but I know he won't sell the house either.
As I start to pace in the hallway outside the office, I hear a familiar humming getting louder from around the corner.
It's almost 3am, there really shouldn't be anyone on the top floor. Maybe it's just a security guard, or a cleaner.
I focus back to my phone and dial Rosie's number, as it rings, I meet the eyes of someone who I never expected to find here.
Harry.
~~~~~
A/N
Here's Chapter Four besties.
We're finally starting to learn more about the characters and establishing a main plot line.
I have the next few chapters planned and I can't wait for you to read them.
I love you all so much, please keep letting me know how you're finding these chapters, and keep sharing 'Marigold' with all your friends :)
I Love You All Very Much <3