Harry Styles
Friday
"I don't know why you're being such a grump about this. I'm excited."
Niall speaks from the passenger seat of my car, downing a lemonade that he picked up at the gas station. With sunglasses over my eyes, I keep one hand on the wheel and ignore him.
I can feel him glance over me following my silence. He sighs under his breath like a child, drinking his lemonade.
"I bet once we get there, you'll be as excited as me." he says.
"You're not the one that has to fake a marriage tomorrow night, Niall." I murmur, finally answering.
Tomorrow night, Elaina will be posing as my wife. We'll have to act like we love each other and are happily married, as if she doesn't get on my very last nerve. I'd rather do anything else. I could get the fuckin' job done myself—
"Dude, be grateful. Your fake wife is sexy as fuck."
A shifting glare was hidden through my sunglasses—my eyes narrowing as my hand clenches the wheel, but I didn't do it on purpose...it just sort of happened.
I don't know why.
I ignore him again, speeding so we can get this drive over with. We're headed to a private airport where we'll board a jet to head to Sicily. We're all going, all the Monarchs and Elaina.
It's 7:25 in the morning and the jet takes off at 7:30. We'll be late but that doesn't really matter because I know for a fact that plane won't leave without me on it.
We've got the rundown for what's gonna happen. Basically, we have the whole weekend to fuck around like a vacation apart from tomorrow night. We have a penthouse apartment on the top floor of a hotel prepared for us.
That's one of the luxuries of my life. I go do these jobs and I get treated like royalty—free food, drinks, smokes.
Couldn't have it any other way.
The goal tomorrow night is to find out exactly what Alec is doing with these drugs, and who exactly he's handing them
off to. We know he's lacing them, but we don't know why.
I drive my car in through the open gates of the back lot to the private airport. There, a big white jet with a black stripe awaits us with the stairs drawn.
Also waiting for us, was the rest of the group.
Zayn leans against the hood of his car smoking a cigarette with Louis, Liam, and Aldo and Bianca while Angela and Elaina stand a few feet away talking. Once Niall and I pull up, they all look at us.
I park the car carelessly in the middle of the lot, then turn off the engine. A valet in a red suit walks up to my car and takes my keys. With my sunglasses still shielding my eyes from the rising sun, I grab my duffel bag filled with items I'd need for the weekend out of the trunk of my car, Niall grabbing his bags as well.
"You guys are late." Angela acknowledges.
"But we're here." Niall replies with a smile while I stay silent.
"Not sure why you expected them to be on time." Bianca then decides to open her mouth to add her input. "They never are."
"Why are you even here?" I shoot back.
"We need to be checked into the penthouse by 11 at the latest. Let's go." Zayn directs, stopping the banter and throwing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.
I quickly roll my eyes beneath my sunglasses and then head for the jet staircase. The stairs are carpeted with red material. As I get closer to the stairs, Elaina walks past me.
She's got a scent of freshness, like a fruity body wash. She's definitely showered this morning. She's wearing leggings and a loose fitting white shirt with a long knit brown cardigan overtop, her red hair in two french braids. Shes wearing white socks that go up past her ankles over the leggings and white sneakers. She's so simplistic with the way she dresses, maybe because she's so detailed in other areas of her mind—like her art...or how she asks questions all the damned time.
She walks in front of me, getting up onto the staircase as I get caught behind her. She's got a black backpack on her back as well as a baby blue duffel bag on her shoulder. How many bags does she need? It's only three days.
Does she need a grandma outfit for every hour of the day?
As she walks up the steps, I notice the strap of her duffel bag falling off of her shoulder. The strap falls down to the crease of her elbow on her bent arm.
With an eye roll to myself, I start to reach forward to pick the strap up off her arm and pull it back on to her shoulder in need to hurry her up the stairs so I can get in my seat.
But, before I can reach for her bag, Liam does.
He was a little bit in front of her on the steps and he had looked over his shoulder briefly, just in time to see her bag falling. He presses his lips into a half smile and helps her, pulling the strap onto her shoulder.
"Thanks." she smiles back.
I inhale through my nose. Why is my chest burning all of a sudden?
Getting on the plane, Elaina freezes very briefly as she takes in the sight before her. I don't know what she was expecting on a private jet flight, but I guess it wasn't wide seats and tables and private booths.
There was enough space to walk past her so I did, Niall following behind me. Him and I tuck into two leather seats across from each other with a table between them.
Zayn and Louis sit adjacent to us in the other set of seats, while Bianca, Liam and Aldo go sit at a booth that could fit five people.
"El, come sit next to me." Angela speaks from the row behind Niall and I. Elaina clears her throat and brings herself back there, getting herself in to one of the leather chairs. From where I was sitting, I could see her sitting across from Angela—not her whole face, but half...and if she moved her head, I could see all of her.
This flight was going to be around two hours long. We're landing in Palermo—one of the cities in the region of Sicily. The casino is in Palermo, and a party is being hosted inside said casino. The host is reportedly the daughter of the casino owner, who is big on fancy dress parties like the one we'll be going to.
It should be an easy job, if Elaina sticks to the plan.
As the flight takes off and we begin our departure, everyone sort of minds their business. I keep my sunglasses over my eyes, kicking my feet up on to the table between Niall and I and leaning my head back against the cushioned chair. My hands fold over my stomach and I let my eyes shut. If I could sleep through this entire flight that would be incredible, but I have a giant kindergartener sitting across from me so that's next to impossible.
"Do you think Sicily women are gonna be hot?" Niall speaks, preventing me from sleeping.
I inhale through my nose, keeping my eyes closed. "Don't know."
"I bet they will be." he mumbles to himself. "They'll probably be all over us."
I ignore him.
Sometimes if you just let him talk, he'll tire himself out.
"Not that you'll have to worry, though." he then says, making my brows furrow as I keep my eyes shut.
"What do you mean?" I murmur in tiredness, my mouth barely opening to say it.
"I mean you won't have to worry about finding a fuck buddy for the weekend. You've got one."
My eyes open.
I look at Niall through my sunglasses, brows creased together. "What?" I shake my head.
If he means what I think he means, I'm going to punch him in the dick.
"Oh c'mon." He smiles, then leans forward a bit. "Don't sit there and tell me that you two won't fuck after roleplaying as husband and wife for a whole evening." he says in a whisper.
My mouth parts open and I bring my feet down off the table so I can lean in to ensure our conversation isn't heard. "Niall, I swear to god—"
"Am I wrong though?"
"Yes!" I whisper-shout through clenched teeth. "We're not gonna fuck, what the hell is wrong with you?"
He snickers and leans back in his seat. "I'm honestly surprised you haven't yet."
Jesus Christ.
I roll my eyes and throw my head in my hands. "We can barely even tolerate each other." I excuse with a whisper. "She's also engaged."
"So you're implying that you would."
"Wh—No!" I stumble. "Fuck off."
He laughs at me again.
"No judgment." he shrugs. "I would."
There's that burning feeling again...
Annoyed, I exhale sharply and slouch into my chair again. I take my phone out and mindlessly scroll through it to make it clear to Niall that I'm ignoring him.
"Have you talked to Isaac at all yet?"
I hear Angela's voice from the row behind Niall and I. The name of Elaina's fiancé strikes my eardrums and suddenly I find myself eavesdropping. Not purposely of course.
I hear Elaina sigh. "Kinda. I don't know...it's complicated."
My eyes flick up from my phone. Leaning in my chair, I can see Elaina in hers. Her elbow is rested on the armrest and the side of her head is nested in her palm. I can see her full face.
"Complicated how? He cheated." Angela says.
I knew that Elaina's fiancé cheated because she told me while we were drunk. I don't know much else about their relationship apart from the fact that they've been together since high school and he proposed to stop her from leaving Denver.
Pussy move if you ask me.
"Yes, but he seems really sorry—"
"No, no. Don't give him any leeway. He did a bad thing." Angela responds. "What did you guys talk about?"
"He called me the night I was high. I wasn't going to answer but my bad judgment got the best of me." Elaina says.
Classic.
"He told me that he misses me." she adds.
If you really missed her then why would you cheat—Nope. No, it's not my business.
I'm officially going to stop listening. I couldn't care less about this conversation.
"And what did you say?" Angela replies.
"I mean..." Elaina hesitates. "I told him that he really hurt me, and that I still need time to process it."
How much time do you need to process someone cheating on you?
Fuck, I'm fucking eavesdropping again.
"That's good." Angela replies.
Elaina sighs again. "The fact that we're world's away from each other makes this harder." she murmurs.
"So you miss him too then?"
"No I mean the communication part. It's so hard. We're in different time zones and I only usually see his calls and messages when I wake up and he's gone to sleep."
So break up with him then if it's that hard, Jesus. You don't even wear your engagement ring.
"So...why don't you just end it." Angela speaks my own thoughts.
I glance at Elaina's face. Her eyes look down as she ponders her mind. She's either thinking really hard about an answer, or she knows the answer already and she's just hesitant to say it. Eventually, she licks her lips and rubs her temple.
"I love him."
She says those words, but she couldn't say them right away. I noticed this at that paint shop owner's event we went to as well. She told me she loves him, but it was like she was forcing herself to say it.
Now, if she really does love the guy or not, I don't care. I just think that when you love something, you don't hesitate.
And she is hesitant.
Maybe it's because she's so doubtful and overly cautious about everything else. Maybe that's just her nature. It's not like I can open her heart and mind and see what she feels.
But, sometimes she's made of glass. There's moments where I can see right through her, and this is one of those moments.
She said she loves him with her brows creased and her jaw clenched and her fingers touching her skin to comfort herself. She needed little movements of assistance from herself to get those words out.
She's lying. Maybe she's even lying to herself.
I get the urge to go to the bathroom. I really didn't even have to go that bad, I just couldn't sit there. I don't know why.
I get up, walking down the aisle between the seats and booths down to the back of the jet. I reach the bathroom door, turning down the latch to open it up.
You see, a private jet bathroom is not the same as an airplane bathroom. It's not some confined little space with a toilet and a sink.
This bathroom has stalls. Two.
And a sink counter with hand towels and a mirror. There's a little shower in here too.
I push open one of the stall doors, closing it behind me. I don't have to piss, so really I don't even know what I'm doing in here. I could really use a cigarette, but I'm not gonna be that asshole who smokes on a plane, let alone at 8 in the morning.
I push my sunglasses up over my eyes so they rest in my hair. I bring my thumb and forefinger to rub the bridge of my nose. I don't know how Im meant to party all weekend when I feel like this.
What do I feel like? I don't even know.
You know how grey clouds make you feel? Just gloom and dim because the sun is blocked out? I guess that's how I feel. Except the sun is out, and that's why I'm frustrated.
Back home in Manchester we had a lot of grey days in the fall and winter. I hated them. It would make me look forward to nightfall just so the greyness would go away.
Winters were so long though, it almost felt like it would never go away.
I sigh to myself and open up the stall door again. At this point, I'm just mindlessly pacing. I go over to the sink, turning the handle on the tap so cold water streams steadily from the faucet.
I put my hands under the cold waterfall and collect some in my palms. I lean in, splashing the coldness onto my face to see if that will revitalize me in any way. It always works in commercials.
With my eyes shut and my face wet, I blindly pat around the counter for one of the white hand towels. My hand meets the soft cloth fabric and I collect it into my palm before bringing it to my face. I wipe my eyes, scrunching them shut even tighter before opening them. My eyelashes cling together from the dampness they experienced. My cheeks were a rose color and overall, I felt no different.
Behind me, I hear the bathroom door latch right before the door opens. Elaina appears in the reflection of the mirror like how the sun appears behind the grey clouds. Her downturned vision flicks up to mine to meet my eyes in the mirror.
"Oh, sorry." she mumbles, ready to step back out.
"I'm done." I say, making her stop. I turn off the faucet. "Why are you apologizing for having to use the washroom?" I murmur as I dry my hands off.
She apologizes for everything.
She steps in. "I was apologizing for walking in on you."
I shake my head slightly as I turn to face her so I could walk out. She stands there with her hands fiddling with the sleeves of her big cardigan. It was a knitted cardigan that went down past her knees.
Her and I haven't spoken about what we have to do tomorrow. We're aware that we have to act like we're together, but no dialogue has been reached about that topic.
"Are you okay?"
Her voice pulls me from my thoughts and that's when I realize I've just been standing here looking at her.
I blink and shake my head to clear myself. "Yeah. It's all yours." I say, going to walk past her.
I feel her eyes follow me until I'm out of the bathroom. I bring myself back to my seat across from Niall, who now had earbuds in and had his eyes closed.
Silent, I pull my sunglasses back over my eyes and shut my eyelids.
Two hours later, we arrive in Palermo.
We've just walked in to the penthouse. It's huge, even for nine people. The huge windows overlook the city. The summer sun casts a brightened tone to the rooftops and life below. The penthouse has two levels. It's like a mansion. The first level has a living room, kitchen, dining room, and a few bedrooms and bathrooms. Upstairs, there's more bedrooms and another seating area.
I go to the stairs, the staircase was made from wood and polished so well that it shined. I walk into the furthest bedroom down the hallway, passing a few other doors on my way.
I step in through the doorway to view the room. What I notice first is that this room has a balcony that I can see through the two big windows. The walls are an eggshell white accented with baby blue trimming. The bedding is white with floral embroidery. The pillows are the same blue as the trimming, same with the curtains.
This'll work.
I put my bag down beside the bed, looking around the quiet room. The sun floods through the windows, making the bed warm as I run my hand along the surface of it.
Hearing the chatter from downstairs, I leave the room I've claimed as my own and head back down the hallway. As I get to the railing, I see everyone gathered in the kitchen. They were already getting shot glasses and food out—it wasn't even 11am yet.
So this is how the weekend's gonna go. Got it.
I take a second to stand by the railing before going down. I know that the second I'm down there, I'll be bombarded with shots. I need to mentally prepare myself.
I look over the glass railing at the group of eight. My eyes seem to draw to one certain area. Elaina has taken her cardigan off so she's just in her shirt, and her hair has been taken out of the two braids so it cascades down her back and over her shoulders in red waves.
Her arms cross over her stomach and her bottom lip is subtly taken between her teeth. Her simple body language was enough to tell me that she wasn't fully comfortable around our group yet, but she's trying to hide that.
I watch as Niall grabs a shot glass and places it in front of her. She looks at him and he looks at her, smiling before he pours some alcohol into her glass. It was tequila.
She looks into the shot glass.
Niall goes to the fridge and grabs a lime, then a knife from the knife block.
He cuts it, separating a wedge for her.
And suddenly, I'm heading for the stairs.
My presence is noticed quickly, Bianca seeing me and calling me out.
"Mr. Too Cool for Everyone has returned." she remarks.
I ignore her and walk over to where Niall and Elaina were. Niall looks at me with a smug smirk, like he knew the reason I was over here.
He knows nothing, because there isn't any particular reason I'm over here, I just want to socialize.
"Want a shot?" Niall says.
"Yup."
Niall grabs another shot glass and fills it with tequila. He cuts another lime wedge also, passing both over to me. "We're skipping the salt."
"I cant believe we're doing shots before noon." Elaina says.
"Believe it." Aldo laughs. "It'll be like this all weekend."
"Okay, raise your glasses." Zayn says.
I pick up my shot glass, looking down at the liquid.
"To a drunk long weekend." Zayn toasts with his shot glass in the air.
With that, we all toss the liquid back. I take it easily, tequila being nothing for me. I swallow, then bring the lime wedge between my teeth to briefly suck on the juice.
What I didn't expect, was to see Elaina take the shot like everyone else. She did it effortlessly, throwing back the alcohol. Her eyes scrunch a little bit as she sucks on the lime right after.
Damn.
After we all take our warm up shot, Liam makes a proposition.
"Okay, swimsuits on. We're taking shots by the pool."
//
jealousy jealousy