"Excuse me?"
"It's a perfectly logical explanation, Ms Benjamin. You have to let us consider the possibility." The man reasons, writing on his silly little notepad.
Not even 24 hours after my mother's death, just the next morning, the London Police Department is knocking at my front door. These guys must be new recruits or something because I used to play in the police station when I was in diapers because of Harlow and Mr Jane. I spent majority of my time as a three-year-old there, so this is insanity. It all started off okay, they didn't wake me up or anything, I couldn't sleep a blink last night. I was peacefully paying our, or should I say my, water bill, when they came. But then they sat me down and accused me, a 21-year-old woman of my own mother's murder. I'm having quite the lucky week aren't I?
"Perfectly logical explanation? I'm sorry, but I don't know if you noticed, the police were already notified of my mother's death even before I walked through the front door last night." I strike back, standing up from my seat.
"Yes, but how?" One of the three men ask. This one is standing behind the one seated in front of me. They all have their serious little jackets on, ready to crack the case at 8 in the morning.
I throw my knotted side part to the back of my head, causing it to fall back into its normal middle part. I sigh, "I don't know shit brain."
Before the man can respond with a counter argument, I hear familiar footsteps head towards the living room. Out the small bathroom comes Harlow. She walks out humming I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys, wiping her wet curls with one of my towels. She looks graceful and calm until she spots the three men interrogating me for murder. That too, of my own mother.
She marches in with fury quickly burning in her hazel eyes, her luscious pink lips turning into a frown. "What the hell is all this about?"
"Hello, I'm Sergeant—" The one seated in front of me, Liam, tries to explain himself but Harlow harshly interrupts him.
"I don't care who you are. I'm gone not but 10 minutes and you all are already busting in here asking her absurd questions." She throws the towel over her shoulder, almost ordering them to 'shoo'.
The men look around at each other, the one in front of me shifts around uncomfortably, unsure how to reply. He closes his notepad finally, pinching the space in between his eyebrows out of stress.
"Ma'am we just need five—" This time, the one in the back speaks, but Harlow of course didn't want to hear it.
"Who are you?" She asks sternly, pointing at one of them.
"Um, well I'm—"
She interjects. "Do you know who I am? I'm Harlow Jane, Detective Inspector Jane's daughter. Now do you think he will be pleased to know that his sergeants are entering a person's house while they are in sensitive condition? Especially when that person is someone he considers a daughter?"
They don't dare to argue, they simply use the irritation in Harlow's expression as a red flag. She's been here all night. As soon as I came down the ladder last night, she was waiting for me. Harlow wouldn't let me leave her sight, she wanted to make sure I didn't think about doing anything crazy like I did last night. Which I wouldn't now, now that I've come to my senses. She was absolutely furious when I told her that I wanted to jump, but then she settled and we both cuddled up against each other and dozed off for the night. At least she did. I couldn't even close my eyes, there were too many memories flooding back to me. My head was pounding and I felt numb. That feeling kind of felt like when you get up too fast and everything goes blurry and hazy. It was like that. Except that feeling stayed with me. I couldn't get rid of it. I didn't tell Harlow all of that obviously, she gets too worked up.
The three men exit nervously, one following the next, too flustered to stay here any longer. Harlow gets scary when she's angry, I'll admit. The door shuts as Harlow turns back to me with a smile.
"Alright, what do you want for breakfast?" She asks, walking over to my cabinets.
I chuckle lightly, picking up the water bill papers and setting them down on the coffee table next to where I was sitting. She can be so flirty and chilled out, but when someone touches even one of soft spots, she's vicious.
"A laugh? Wow, we really have made progress in the last 8 hours." Harlow opens a cabinet, grabbing the box of Lucky Charms that was last ate by my me yesterday morning.
My laugh fades into a smile, my eyes staring at my toes. I toy with my fingers, looking back up at Harlow kindly pouring milk into her bowl. She then spins to face the fridge. She opens the right door, casually leaning her whole body weight onto the handle. As she grabs the milk and proceeds pouring it into the empty bowl, I squeeze my eyes slightly.
"I don't know how you do that." I proceed to walk past the coffee table and to the counter where she's making herself a delicious bowl of cereal.
"What? Pour the milk first?" Harlow asks as she reaches for the Lucky Charms.
I nod, watching the artificial flavored crisps fall flat into the milk. A few get soaked up by the milk's consistency, and the rest stay dry right above it. Before taking a bite, she looks down at her 2 minute made meal and smiles. Then, she takes a spoonful of the Lucky Charms and milk combo. I make a sarcastic eye roll, walking over to the dining table. My eyes widen, my fingers growing cold. It's the sketch my mom was working on. She loved drawing. So much. Even got me interested in it. It's a beautiful outline of my dad. She only finished half the coloring, which in most situations, she would let me finish it if she's too busy. But of course I can't touch it. It's a memory now. Slowly, water begins duplicating itself in my eyes, my lip beginning to shake.
I think since last night, I've been trying to evaluate how I feel. But the truth is, I don't know. I always expected myself to cry endlessly when someone I loved died. But when all reality hits, it's impossible to absorb. I couldn't stop thinking about it last night. Not just my mom, but the situation itself. The ambulances, the rooftop, George, the man, all of it.
"Noelle?" Harlow's voice brings me out of my intermittent thoughts.
I sniff, wiping under my eyes before twirling around to face her. She looks at me with worry filling her cheeks. Which is odd since she's always so full of energy. She stops mid-chew to mentally ask me if I'm okay. She gives me a little head tilt to do so, and I nod silently. She understands I can't put into words my feelings at the moment.
"Are you sure?" She asks softly, blinking through her long lashes.
"Yeah." I respond bluntly, walking as far away as I can from the drawing.
Her crunches are the only thing audible for a moment before she sighs. She drops the spoon against the edge of the bowl, the silver clinking.
"We're going out tonight." She states, leaning her palms against the the counter. I don't say anything, I just look back at her with a confused expression.
Today of all days?
"I mean it. We're going," She continues her meal, chewing harshly on the cereal pieces. "Be ready by 8PM."
"Har, I really don't thi—" I start but she cuts me off. Harlow has a thing for interrupting people.
"Then what do you want to do? Because honestly sweetie, I don't know how to help you. I've never done this before. So please, come out with me. It'll get your mind off of it." She rambles a little, my heart sinking a little when she opens up about her struggle to comfort me.
I guess I owe her that much. In the middle of the night last night, around 4AM, I went to the bathroom and just cried. I let it all out, and I'm pretty sure Har was awake, but she chose to ignore it. She always understood giving people space. All night she was watching me, making sure I was okay. Maybe she finally decided to let me figure it out for myself. Either that or she was just too tired to get out of bed.
"Fine. I'll be ready by then." I tell her, her expression softening as soon as I confirm. She continues munching in her cereal, this time with a smile reaching ear to ear.
"I'll set out our matching little black dresses. Ya know the ones from junior year?" She asks, her eyes now filled with joy. This mess is not hers to clean up. I owe her one night of fun before going back to the saddening reality.
"Yeah, I remember." I say, letting little laughs escape my lips between words.
She smiles again before bringing the blue bowl to her mouth and sipping the remaining milk down her throat. When she sets the bowl down, smudged and uneven excess of the milk plants on her upper lip.
I allow another gentle laugh spill, her eyes lighting up to the fact that she made me laugh. She doesn't say another word, she just sets down her bowl in the sink and disappears into the guest room.
Whatever Harlow has planned for cheering me up, better be good.
Because at the moment, my whole body feels like it could just fall into a pile of bones any second.
---
"I have to say, clubbing actually sounds fun, Har." I say, staring at the neon red sign at the top of the building.
She doesn't respond, instead she grabs me by the wrist, pulling me inside. Flashing purple and red lights, the aroma of heavy alcohol, and the feel of electricity running through everyone. As Harlow continues to lead me through the entrance, we pass the bar, where many drunks are lazily seated, still asking the bartender for more booze. Then we passage through the middle of the bar, where multiple bodies were dancing together, and many tongues intertwined with each other. Lastly, where I'm guessing Har is taking us, the back. A more quiet, yet euphoric environment.
There are a few people laid among the couches comfortably, while others were practically having sex against the wall. I expect Harlow to bring both of us to sit somewhere here and talk to a stranger, but instead she passes the couches as well, leading us to a black door labeled, 'Pleasure', in gold cursive letters. That doesn't sound very promising. I'm assuming this is VIP and Harlow's sneaking us in.
We slip through the door, her fingers still gripping my wrist. I turn my head to look back for anyone catching us, but there's barely anyone in the back. She finally lets go of my wrist as I shut the door behind us. We both start a deep sigh in relief, but then immediately halt in our tracks, staring at two men occupying the seats. I hear her gulp quietly, considering no one's ever in VIP. All the other four times we did this, it was just us.
I guess there's a first for everything.
Harlow rushes to explain, but the dark haired man interrupts her.
"Hello, ladies." He grins, turning to eye the blonde one, but he's staring at his phone giggling at it. His British accent is extremely heavy, heavier than most people here in London.
"Hello." Harlow smiles, faking our status. She's definitely doing what I think she's doing.
I look at Harlow, then at the man, then at Harlow again. She's definitely gone mad. We've been caught and she damn well knows that so what's the point?
"Come to refill our cups?" He asks, referring to the red plastic cup in his hand. He waves it around, almost genuinely asking.
"No, actually. We're uhm, VIP." She lies straight through her teeth, and the man raises his eyebrows.
He ruffles his hair with his hand that was once resting upon the couch arm rest. "Come on, drop the act love. S'alright. We'll let it pass."
We both sigh in relief, immediately starting to head towards the back of the room, but the man speaks up again.
"Where do you think you're going? We let you in, now let's get to know each other." He suggests slyly, as Harlow and I glance at each other.
He pats the singular seat across from him, as I go to the motioned destination. Harlow seats herself next to the blonde one. He finally looks up from his phone, staring at Harlow in awe as soon as his eyes shoot up. She looks back at him with an innocent smile, than an immediate look of irritation as she looks at me again.
"Right then, I'm Zayn." He introduces himself, bringing his hand out for me to shake. I connect our palms, giving his a little shake before bringing my hand back to my lap.
"I'm Noelle," I pull my lips into a line, not sure how to have fun when there are two creepy men bothering us. "And that's Harlow."
I gesture to Harlow as I notice how shy the blonde guy is. He's sitting there like it's the first time he's seen a girl. Which makes this ten times funnier since he's wearing a fucking leather jacket. He gives Harlow a gentle smile while Harlow replies with pulling her lips in an awkward way.
I look back at Zayn, who's already starting at me. I give him a similar smile like Harlow's but our uncomfortable exchanges get interrupted by loud commotion outside. I turn my head to the door as multiple loud shoving-like noises are heard outside. I notice the club has actually grown quiet over the past minute.
Light thuds escape under the door, grunting sounds accompanying them. Harlow and I both hold onto ur purses in case we need to bolt, but then we don't have time to think. The door swings open, a familiar face with gorgeous green eyes meets mine. It's the man.
The man that saved me yesterday.
"What a lovely group of people you've brought together Zayn." He speaks with the same British accent that thickens his words.
I almost smile, for some reason relieved to see him. He stares at me for a moment, then starts stepping towards me. I blink a few times, unsure what to do or how to act.
He towers over me, and I feel so small compared to him. I don't remember him being this tall yesterday. Did I shrink over night? His green eyes pierce into my brown ones, his hair still side parted like last night. He leans down to meet my height, our noses barely touching. The leather couch I'm seated on starts squishing and crinkling, making really uncomfortable noises. Then I feel his hand slip behind me. I had kept my phone on the table. Did he take it? Or maybe I never actually set it down. I can't seem to remember anything right now.
He pulls his hand back to his side, a drink resting in it instead of my phone. He smirks a little, as he returns to his original posture. Right. His drink. I had seen it when I walked in, but I figured it was Zayn's. I pull my lips into a line, letting out a deep breath I didn't know I had held. I can see Harlow gawking at the sight in the corner of my eye, but I choose to keep my focus on the man.
He seats himself on the seat next to Zayn, folding his right leg over his left as he lounges comfortably on the couch. He brings his lips to the expensive glass, taking a strong sip of God knows what.
I feel the need to speak for some fucking reason, so I ask to break the tension, "So, where are the drinks?"
I clear my throat, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. Why did I have to say that? The drinks are obviously sitting at the huge bar you just passed, fucking idiot. The man continues gazing at the ground, unbothered with any and all of his surroundings. The blonde guy finally pulls his eyes off Harlow and stares at me. No one's saying anything and this is getting worse by the second. Harlow parts her lips to speak, but then immediately closes them as she notices Zayn is about to reply.
"Harry, go on."
Finally. A name.
Harry looks up, grazing his eyes over mine. His lips are still, and his facial expression seems just as shocked to see me as me. He sighs deeply, then uses his knees as support to get up. His muscles flex slightly as he gets up.
His hair is the same as I remembered it. Everything is almost the same. Except instead of a white t-shirt, he's now dressed in a Rolling Stones shirt and his lips seem more worn out. Either he just made out with someone, or he's been smoking since the last 24 hours I saw him. He eyes me to get up, and of course, in idiocy, I follow. Harlow looks confused as to why the man is so willing to go and give a stranger a drink. She looks at me as I grip his arm, smiling widely as she opens her mouth just as wide to display her surprise.
He turns the knob and lets me walk out the door first, as he follows. He leads me back to the regular bar area, the same loud music filling up the room. We walk together towards the main area, my arm slowly unlinking from his. He threads his fingers in his hair, throwing it to the back of his scalp, causing it to fall into an unfamiliar middle part. We move apart, as he paces towards the bar to get me the 'drink' I wanted. I seat myself on one of the empty bar stools, as he sits down one chair away from me.
"What do you want?" Harry finally speaks, still not meeting my gaze. He instead non intentionally glares at the bartender to avoid looking at me.
"Whatever you're having." I say without argument. This doesn't have to go that bad I just have to cooperate. Right?
He shrugs, turning to the bartender who was so excited to ask about our orders, "2 beers. On Malik's tab."
I open my mouth a bit, starting a protest but leaving it be. This is going to be fun now.
"You're—" I hesitate, almost regretting saying anything, but he finishes my sentence.
"Yeah."
I pull my lips into a line, a large beer glass blocking my full view of the counter. The bartender leaves the foamy drink in front of me, putting a similar one in front of Harry.
I sigh, picking up the glass with both of my hands like I'm drinking hot chocolate. I press the rim of the glass to my lips, tilting the glass slightly so the liquid falls straight down my throat without a break. I continue to bend both of my wrist to match the beer's flow, gulping rapidly as the strong alcohol travels down my throat and into the pit of my stomach. I can see the the end of the drink, as the quantity sitting at the bottom of the glass shrinks rapidly. As the last drop hits my lips, I set down the heavy glass back down on the counter.
I use the back of my hand to wipe any excess left around my lips while I turn to Harry who still hasn't even taken a sip. He looks at me with what looks like a smile.
"Well, that's the first one of those from you." I state, then turn back to my empty jug.
He laughs a little, "There were 22 fluid ounces in that."
I throw my palm over my mouth, thinking of how bloated I'm gonna get. I grab the glass in my hand again, staring at it. I drank every last drop without a second thought. I start smiling too, which eventually leads into uncontrollable laughter. He stares at me and can't help but laugh a little too. I snort a little too loud, catching both me and Harry off guard. This just leads me to laugh even more, slapping his arm a few times to help him understand my hysteria. I stare back at him as both of our smiles fade, only exchanging a look for a moment.
"Why did you save me?" I genuinely ask. I let my sober thoughts fill up my half drunk words. That's all I could think about last night. I wanted to let it go because I didn't think I would see him again, but now that he's here I want to take advantage of the situation.
He looks at me, unsure how to answer. I think he doesn't know either.
"You seemed worth saving." He answers, making my eyes widen a bit.
"And those other people that jumped off? What about them? They had a life too." I can feel the alcohol take over me, because a tiny puddle of water begins to scatter in my eyes.
"Of course but," He pauses to lean in a little closer as if he's telling me a secret.
"I want to keep you remember?"
//