- Harry -
"AMBER! HURRY UP! IT'S ELEVEN THIRTY!" I pounded on the bathroom door. It felt like I'd been here for hours, hitting the door with my fist in attempts to hurry Amber up. It's been almost an hour and she's still in the bathroom. What takes her so long? Why is it that girls always spend eternity in there? It makes me curious. So curious that I'm about to place my hand on the doorknob, but I don't have time to. The door swings open and there stands Amber. She's angry. Her eyes are shooting daggers back at me and her hand is still tightly gripping the door handle.
But that's not what steals attention. My eyes are glued to her body, slowly scanning her from head to toe. She's sporting a short, dark blue dress that outlines every dip and curve of her body. The neckline falls low, revealing a bit cleavage that my eyes keep wanting to fall to.
Her hair was straightened, falling below her shoulders almost perfectly, and her lashes seemed longer and full. Her blue-green eyes were as vibrant as ever, still glaring back me as I just stood there and stared.
I gather myself and force a frown onto my face, pretending that I wasn't just ogling her. And, because we've all established that I'm a massive jerk, the first thing I say is: "Way to promote sex."
Amber gasps.
"You're a fucking jerk, you know that?" she snaps, catching up to me as I pry open the apartment door.
I smirk, rolling my eyes as I step into the hall.
She slams the door behind us, stomping past me without snapping another witty comment. She's definitely pissed. But she can't be as pissed as me. No way. She's the main reason we have to start this fake dating crap anyways. If she hadn't agreed with Liam, none of this would be happening. We'd just pretend to get along, do the movie, and move on with our lives, but Amber had to go and screw it all up. It's just stupid, really. Liam of all people knows I won't be able to pull this off. He knows what happened in the past. He bloody knows.
"How exactly are we getting to the movies?" I realize as I follow Amber into the lift. "We have no car."
"Carol texted me." She mumbles, slouching up against the wall and not looking at me. "Rented a car for us. It's parked in the lot."
I just nod even though she's not looking. I run my hand through my curls multiple times trying to calm myself down. What if the paps are already there? What will they expect to see? I may have gotten that movie role, but I'm not an actor. I can't pretend to love Amber. The word makes me cringe. I could never. Anyone but Amber. It just can't happen. It won't happen. I don't want to hold Amber's hand. I don't want to look at her in any other way that's not hate. I simply do not want too. Not Amber. Why did I have to go along with Louis' bet? Why did I have to audition? Look where it all landed me. And instead of pulling myself out of this mess, it feels like I'm falling deeper into it each day. Besides that, it feels like the more time I spend with Amber, the more I continue to dislike her, yet it's my entire fault. I'm the reason we hate each other. I'll never admit it though. No way.
"Harry? Harry!" I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Amber waving her hand in front of my face. I blink, the look on my face exposing my sudden confusion.
"Huh?" I respond, glancing at my surroundings.
"Stop thinking so hard." Amber frowns. "Are you gonna stay in there all day?"
Reality hits me. I'm still in the lift. The doors have opened, waiting for Amber and me to exit. Amber huffs, twirling around and stomping out of the lift. I roll my eyes, following after her. Attitude much?
Once we're out of the building, I spot a black Civic parked in the first visible parking space. That must be it, I assume. There was no other Civics around. In fact, there weren't many other cars around. It made me wonder if Amber and I are the only people living in this apartment building.
"I'll drive." Amber states, beginning to make her way toward the driver's side.
"No, I'll drive." I tell her, about to follow her to the side of the car when she stops me. She's still frowning, pointing a finger at me as her other hand falls on the hood of the car.
"I've lived here longer. I know the directions and I don't want to get into an accident."
Normally I would have said something rude in reply. She doesn't want to get in an accident? I'm offended. I'm a great driver! But I didn't protest. She was right. I don't my way around the city. It's only my second time in L.A. and honestly, I don't feel like getting lost.
"Fine." I snap, prying open the passenger door. "But I'm a brilliant driver." With those words, I slide into the passenger's seat and cross my arms over my chest. Amber gets into the driver's seat, finding the keys already in the ignition. She's quick to start the engine, taking her time to adjust the mirror.
"We're going to be late." I inform her, reaching over to turn on the radio.
Amber ignores me, releasing a huff before pulling out of the driveway. Something must have crawled into her trousers this morning. She woke up with such a snotty attitude. Then again, when did she not have an attitude? I bite my lip, realizing what a stupid question that was. I can remember a time when Amber was nice...
I shake away the thought as the radio starts to play probably the worst song I could ever imagine.
"7am, waking up in the morning. Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs..."
Normally I would have quickly changed the station in order to keep my ears from bleeding. That's not what I did, though. I smirk as Amber lets out the loudest possible groan while she makes a left turn onto Parker Drive.
"Will you turn that shit off?" She protests. "I hate the song."
I smirk again, reaching over to turn up the volume. "Aw, really? Because I love it!" I start to sing along, earning myself plenty of annoyed glares from Amber. I may hate this song, but this is absolutely worth it.
"Kickin' in the front seat. Sittin' in the back seat. Gotta make my mind up. Which seat can I take?!" As the chorus starts, I'm no longer singing the lyrics. I'm screaming them. "It's Friday, Friday! Gotta get down on Friday!"
Amber grips the steering wheel, clenching her teeth as she keeps her eyes on the road. I've never seen her so pissed. Not when we ran into each other at the party. Not even when she woke up to find me naked. No. Right now, she was definitely top-notch pissed.
"Fun, fun, fun, fun..."
Maybe I'm taking it too far. I'm starting to wonder if she's bothered by the song or me in general. Probably a mixture of both. I stop singing, but leave on the music, not wanting to let her know that I was giving up.
"7:45, we're drivin' on the highway. Cruisin' so fast, I want time to fly..."
My eyes widen as the second verse starts. I can't even hear Rebecca Black's voice. Amber's singing. I'll admit I'm a little shock. In her pissed off state, I couldn't believe she was even singing, especially to a song she hates. I frown. She's not singing it because she likes it, I realize. She's singing it to annoy me as I was doing to her. Not only that, but her singing wasn't very good. She was off pitch and loud, causing me to cringe every now and then. Dear god. Whatever she was doing; it's working. Her voice is massively annoying.
"It's Friday, Friday. Gotta get down on Friday. Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend-"
I reach over and cut off the music before my ears bleed to death. I can see why she pursued acting. Singing isn't her best talent. In fact, it's not even a talent. It's a mistake.
Amber pouts, flashing me a faux puppy dog face. "Why'd you turn off? I was just getting into it!"
I roll my eyes, turning to stare out the window. "Keep your eyes on the road."
I hear her chuckle, most likely satisfied with the turn of events. I'll let her win this round, I decide. But the next one is all mine.
- Amber -
We arrive at the theatre in the nick of time. I silently thank god that Harry didn't say a word after Friday. I'm not sure I would be able to deal with him after having to sing that horrid song. I only did it to get on his nerves. By the way he turned off the music and looked away, I knew I'd pissed him off. It was so worth it. He got a taste of how I felt.
I open the door and step out of the car, tossing the keys into my purse. Harry's already out, slowly walking towards the theatre. Glancing around in search of paparazzi, I quickly speed up to his side.
"Are you mad?" I snap, leaning in towards him so no one else would hear me. "If the paps were here, they'd wonder why we're not walking together."
Harry sighs, running his hand through his curls multiple times before turning to face me. "Fine." He groans. "I hate this." I hear him mutter to himself, his hand hesitantly falling around my waist. I cringe, his touch feeling foreign. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this. Not with Harry. It doesn't feel right. In fact, it feels absolutely, undeniably wrong.
We advance into the movies, handing our tickets to some guy in a green uniform that stood at the entrance.
"Theatre 12 to your left." He informs us, ripping the ticket in half and handing us back the other half. I shove mine into my pocket before heading with Harry towards the Concession Stand.
"What do you want?" I ask Harry as my eyes scan over the endless options. Popcorn, sodas, candies, pretzels...
Suddenly, Harry's hand becomes tighter around my waist. I tense up, clearing my throat as the chick behind the counter appears before us. She's about our age. Her hair's dark and tied back into a tight ponytail, her hazel eyes staring back at us as she grins.
"Hi!" She chirps. "What can I get y'all today?"
I can't help but notice her southern accent. And by the way she hasn't recognized either of us, I know she's not from here. I take a guess and assume she's a college student working for rent money as she spends her weekdays studying. Like Carly, I think. Carly was only in California for college. I met her at the library where she had been attempting to study for some of her courses. Of course, Carly had no idea who I was at the time. I wasn't exactly as famous as I am now. Her and I instantly clicked and began to hang out. Now she's my closest friend and maybe the only real friend I've ever had.
"My girl and I will have a large popcorn with a large coke and a pretzel for me." Harry says, forcing my eyes to widen. His girl? Did he just call me his girl? Not only was his touch foreign, but so were those words. I hadn't even agreed to his choice of snacks, though I didn't argue. I probably would have ordered something similar. But to share a large coke and popcorn with Harry? That was totally unplanned for.
The girl, Jade according to her name tag, hurriedly scattered to get our order together. Harry and I just awkwardly stood there, his hand not leaving my waist. It just felt...odd. And why wasn't Harry flirting with Jade? She was pretty. Harry wouldn't pass up the chance. I've known -and hated- him long enough to know that.
"Thirteen dollars and twenty five cents." Jade smiles at us, pushing the giant bag of popcorn, pretzel, and large cup of coke in our direction.
Harry's quick to reach into his pocket and pull out a twenty dollar bill. "Keep the change." He tells her, handing me the coke and popcorn while holding the pretzel in his free hand.
"Never speak of this." He whispers in my ear when we reach the theatre room, stepping inside. I smile, rolling my eyes and following after him. Trust me, I think to myself. I will never speak of this.
Harry and I place the popcorn between us, shoving two straws into the coke. Our hands would brush every time we'd simultaneously reach in for a handful of popcorn. Even in the darkness, I would notice Harry's cheeks slightly blush. Was he blushing? Why was he blushing? Maybe it was hot in here. That's probably it. Harry wouldn't blush.
As the movie reaches the part where Rue dies, I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. I admit these kind of movie moments make me cry. I can almost feel Katinss' pain as she mourns Rue's loss. It's heartbreaking yet admirable.
I hold in a smirk as my eyes flicker over to Harry. A glistening tear is running down his cheek and he hasn't bothered to wipe it away. Looks like I wasn't the only sensitive one.
Reaching for the popcorn once more, I use my free hand to wipe away the formed tears in my eyes. I'm not much of a reader, but the movie's making me want to get my hands on the books. It's so good!
The movie seemed to end too quickly. It was so into it; I barely noticed when the credits began to play. Harry, on the hand, was already standing up from his seat, stretching out his arms and running a hand through his tousled curls.
"I'll meet you in the hall." He tells me. "I gotta use the toilet." With those words, he's quick to scramble out of the theatre room and disappear.
I frown to myself, stretching my back and following after the giddy group of people that had been sitting a few rows below us. Stepping into the hall, I lean against the nearest wall beside the boys' bathroom. I chew on my lip, praying no one would recognize me. I didn't feel like being surrounded by a thousand fans, especially with Harry here. Even though he wasn't here with me at this very moment, he'd be here soon and I didn't need questions being thrown at me. Especially questions I couldn't answer.
I heave a sigh, watching people walk by without giving me a second glance. Or, at least, the girls weren't. The few guys that walked by would stare at me, a few of them smiling in approval. I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Maybe Harry was right. I shouldn't have worn this. Then again, the only reason I wore this was to piss off Harry. I knew he'd have something to say about it.
"Hey, sexy." A man appears, casually walking up to me as he eyes roamed over my body. I squirmed, already feeling uncomfortable. His hair was dark and tousled, the studs over his face showing he hadn't shaved in at least two days. He was sporting a pair of baggy jeans with a white tank showing off his muscled arms. I assume he's around his thirties or early forties. The fact that he was attempting to flirt disgusted me.
"Why all alone?" He winks, resting his arm on the wall behind me. I gag; the smell of cologne sickening.
"I'm sorry. I've got somewhere to be." I mumble, trying to make my way past him but he doesn't let me.
"So soon?" He pouts. "How about I take you back to my apartment, so, you know..." He leans in closer, his lips inches from mine. "We can have fun."
"Listen," I begin to say, but I'm cut off. The man's no longer in front of me. Someone's fist slams into face and he's now lying on the floor, blood spurring out of his mouth as he coughs.
"Back off." The familiar voice hisses.
Harry.
My heart's racing fast due to the scare. I feel Harry grab my wrist as he drags me toward the exit, all eyes on us.
"What the hell-" I'm about to protest but the minute we step out of the theatre we're surrounded by flashing lights. I slam my arm over my eyes, squinting as Harry pulls me through the mass crowd of paparazzi.
"Harry! Harry!" I hear some of them shout. "Amber!"
It's hard to ignore them. I wasn't used to it. I was always so friendly, walking up to them and just answering their questions. But from Harry's surprising action and their unanswerable questions, I struggled to stay silent.
"How did you two meet?"
"How long have you been dating?"
"Harry, are you in love?"
"Amber! Amber, what's your take on One Direction?"
"Are you planning any projects together?"
I feel Harry's fingers intertwine with mine as he continues to pull me through the flashing lights. My heart speeds up, pounding roughly against my chest as we reach the Civic. Prying the passenger door open for me, Harry motions me inside. I guess he's driving this time. He slams the door behind me before making his way over and into the driver's seat.
"Keys." He orders. I nod, digging in my purse for the keys and tossing them to him. He shoves them into the ignition and starts the engine. I can hear the roar of the paparazzi surrounding our car as Harry carefully pulls out of the lot.
"Amber!" I hear a pap shout. "Amber! What's your favorite thing about Harry?!"
His curls...
"What the fuck happened in there?!" Harry exclaims once we're out of the theatre lot and on the road.
I shake away my thoughts and turn to face him, all the anger I'd been about to release on him before the paps showed up returning.
"You mean, what the hell did you do to that guy?!" I snap. "You could have... No, you did break his jaw, no doubt!"
Harry scowls, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "He was all over you! Don't tell me you liked it!"
I purse my lips, glaring at him. "I was handling it just fine."
"Just fine!" Harry roars. "That git had you right where he wanted you!"
"He did not!" I protest, crossing my arms. "And what's the big deal?! It's not like you could give a shit about what happened to me!"
Harry grits his teeth, flipping a curl out of his eyes. "But I do give a shit, Amber! If something happened to you, I'd be blamed. We're dating, remember?!"
I clench my fists, turning to stare out the window and blinking back the tears that were trying to force themselves out my eyes.
"Shit, Amber." Harry groans. "Don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry, ok?"
I ignore him, resting my head against the cold glass. Why was he apologizing? He's right. We're supposed to be dating and if anything happened to me, he'd be blamed. I should be the one apologizing about going off on him. A part of me is glad he punched that guy. Even though I denied it, I wasn't handling things. In fact, I was making it worse by acting vulnerable.
Harry sighs, reaching over to turn up the radio. He doesn't bother to continue apologizing. I won't answer. I refuse to speak. I refuse to admit that he was absolutely right though he didn't have to be so harsh. As a familiar song starts playing, tears begin to silently run down my cheeks.
"I turn my head. I can't shake the look you gave. And I'm good as dead. Cause, oh, those eyes are all it takes. And all I want is you..."