Wicked Games - The Weeknd
"Bring your love baby I can bring my shame. Bring the drugs baby I can bring my pain. I got my heart right here, I got my scars right here."
HARRY
The cool liquid of the alcohol did nothing to soothe my aching head. The moment we stepped into this house, memories of my broken adolescence hit me like a freight train. My body strained to keep calm, but my blood was boiling to the brim. Every emotion that I tried my best to keep at bay was fighting to break free. I could feel my hands shake with burning anger.
She didn't know. She didn't know the memories that this house held. She didn't know what my "mates" did to me... to Sarah. Isabella didn't have a fucking clue; but then again, she was nosy enough to figure it all out. It was one of her flaws. A personality trait that I had a hard time loving but attempted to anyways because I loved her. She was adamant. Her incessant need to know everything and question me constantly was persistent and infuriating. Yet, regardless of that, I still loved her. That didn't stop me from being so incredibly pissed off at her.
I couldn't be around Izzy. Not right now. Not when she had that irritating need to question me about my past. That was why I had found myself surrounded by the same group of guys that I had once called my friends.
Mason, Fraser and Tanner looked at me. Smirks and amusement flashed behind their bloodshot eyes. "Long time no see mate." Tanner greets me with a drunken slap to the back.
"Not long enough," I mutter back. Fuck, why was I here? Why did I agree to this?
"I heard you have a girl with you. Didn't think that ever happen again." Fraser adds.
I don't reply. Instead, I take another sip from my drink. The weak intake of alcohol doing nothing to block my senses from the cruel, laughable scene I surrounded myself with.
"Where is she? I heard she's a sexy little thing."
"American too." Mason smirked at Tanner.
"Where is she so we can meet her? I have a hard time that you'd ever move on from Sarah."
I grip the bottle tighter. He had some fucking nerve to bring Sarah up. "She's around." I tell him.
"Classic Styles. Leaving his girl alone in a crowded room." Fraser laughs.
The longer I stood here, the looser of a grip I had on my patience. I take a seat on a chair beside them. If I was going to be here, I might as well sit down. "What's up with the weak ass drink?" Mason takes notice of the cooler in my hands. I shrug in response. He shakes his head, laughing to himself, as he reaches over for a half empty bottle of whiskey and an unlit joint.
"Here," he passes me the bottle and joint. I don't think twice before I take a long drink from the glass. The alcohol burns as it runs down my throat. The familiar feeling washing over me. I can feel my senses slowly grow fuzzy. I take the joint in between my fingers and bring it to my lips. Inhaling the smoke, my throat continues to burn. But I didn't care. My body welcomes the feeling. The numbness taking over my senses.
I lean back against the chair. My eyelids fluttering shut. I take another hit from the joint. "Why'd you move in here." My words are directed towards Mason.
He doesn't say anything at first. I open my eyes slowly, my vision blurry from the narcotics. He looks over at me. His body is hunched over. His elbows resting on his knees. Fraser and Tanner are quiet beside him. Their mouths preoccupied with their full glasses of liquor.
"Are you going to tell me or not?" Patience was growing thin. My raspy voice growing louder with each passing second. The longer I sat here, the higher my anxiousness grew.
"Chill the fuck out." Mason's slow drawl adds fire to the flame. "Her parents moved away. Left the place to me."
"Why'd they do that?" I almost laugh. "They fucking hate you."
"You know why they left it to me." His voice grows louder. I take a deep breath to settle my anger. I had to keep calm if I wanted answers.
"So that's it. They're gone."
"Yeah. Moved to Denmark. Business or some shit."
"That's just fantastic." I take another hit. The smoke engulfing my lungs. My nerves relaxing.
"You're a right idiot for asking me to come here. Now I have to tell Isabella who you are. More about my past... Shit I didn't want to do."
Mason laughs. "She's you girlfriend. You're supposed to tell her shit."
I shake my head, "Not when she's fucking nosy. It's damn annoying. She's always asking me shit about my life. I've never felt so damn pestered in my life. I tell her to stop and she keeps going."
"Sounds like Sarah," Fraser laughs this time. I shoot him a glare. He shuts up right away. Muttering a quiet sorry.
Mason sticks his hand up, laughing lightly. "It's true Haz. She sounds like Sarah. That's probably why you hate it so much."
"What did I say about calling me Haz?" The nickname brought back too many memories. Memories of her. A smack in the face that she was gone. No longer here. Not only that, but it reminded me of the person I used to be. A person I was no longer. Or are you?
"Chill out." Mason smirked at me. "Still the same stiff bastard that you were before you left."
"That reminds me. Secondary school? You know damn well I saw you long after secondary school."
"I know. Figured I'd joke around with you and your girl." I roll my eyes. "Back to my point. Izzy is your girlfriend. You have to fucking tell her shit. You can't keep it all bottled up."
"It's my shit to keep, not hers to know." I counter back.
It's Masons turn to roll his eyes. "I don't know how you manage to get girlfriends. You're shit at relationships."
I send him the middle finger, muttering a, "Fuck off."
The music gets louder. The low bass of the electronic beat blasting through the small house. Couples begin to dance. Their bodies moving against one another. Sweat glistening on their skin. I watch as a group of girls dance. Their scantily clad bodies grinding up against the other. Hands are in each other's hair. They looked vaguely familiar. I couldn't put my finger on where I had seen them before or who I knew them.
"Rita grew up pretty fine, didn't she?" Mason slurs in my ear. I look over at him, my brows furrowed. He points towards the drunken girl dancing against her friend. My own drunken eyes scan over her body. Her long black hair was pushed to the side. Her porcelain skin glistening in the dim lighting. Her tall, thin body was covered in nothing but a thin white dress.
Rita. I knew who she was. I fucked her when we were seventeen. A year after Sarah died, Rita was there to comfort me. I had taken her virginity that night but she didn't care. She had a crush on me since we were fourteen - a confession she had made to me that night. But at the time, she was an awkward girl. Her hair a frizzy mess. Thick glasses were always covering her eyes.
Now she was no longer the nerdy girl from our teenage years. She was grown up and sexy as hell.
Dance with her, my sleazy subconscious urges. Isabella is nowhere. You're annoyed with her anyway. No harm dancing with an old friend.
As if she could hear my thoughts, Rita turns around. Her dark eyes scan over me. Her thin red lips moving up into a knowing smile. She disconnects from her friend and walks towards me. "Here she comes," Mason comments. "Don't do anything stupid." He says to me. I shrug him off.
"Harry Styles, well I'll be." Rita walks towards me. Her white dress clings to her thin body. "Never thought I'd see you around here again."
She takes a seat on the arm of the couch. Her bare legs brushing against my knees. I smirk up at her. My drunken eyes gazing over her body. Fuck, she grew up nicely. Isabella. Did you forget you have a girlfriend? "Nice to see you again." I say licking my lips.
"He's visiting for the weekend." Mason says. His arm moves around Rita's waist. His hand resting on her hip.
She looks at me. Studying my face. Her own brown eyes are glassed over. She moves all of her hair to one side. Her bare shoulder and collarbone now exposed. "We missed you around here. I've missed you around here."
"I'm sure you did."
She bends over. Her hand reaches out for mine. Tugging on it, she pulls me up. "Dance with me," she breathes out.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Mason says. His eyes watching me intently.
I shrug, a ghost of a smirk on my lips. "No harm dancing with an old friend." I say to her. She bites her lip. Her fingers tug onto my wrist, pulling me towards the dance floor. I pause to take another long shot from the bottle of whiskey. My senses growing weaker with each shot I intake.
-
ISABELLA
I look for him in the crowded room. My eyes searching for him. I had to talk to Harry. I had to ask him what was going on. At this point, I didn't care if he was annoyed with me. I loved him and needed to be there for him. I could only imagine how angry he must be right now.
Hurriedly, I rush through the room until I spot Mason. I walk over to him. He is leaning against the fireplace. His hands stuffed into his jean pockets. "Mason," I call to him.
He looks over at me. I notice his eyes widen for a split second. His whole body language shifting. "Izzy. Hey."
"Have you seen Harry?"
He shifts to the side. He scratches the back of his neck, "Uh. Yeah."
"Are you going to tell me where he is?" I ask him. My patience growing thin. I catch a whiff of marijuana and alcohol from his breath. If he was in the state, I prayed that Harry wasn't.
"About that..." He looks around again. His eyes not meeting mine. I huff impatiently and turn away from him to face the living room. My eyes scan over the crowd frantically in search for my boyfriend.
It isn't until I look at the group of dancing couples that I spot the familiar head of curly brown hair. He was dancing close to a girl in a short white dress. Her dark hair flowing down her back. Her backside pressed up against him. His hips moving in synch with hers. I felt like I was going to throw up. What was left of my breaking heart shattering completely. No, I bite my lip to hold back the tears that start to from. He wouldn't cheat on me. He couldn't.
A firm hand holds my shoulder pulling me back. I turn around to meet Mason's sympathetic eyes. "I told him not too. He's too drunk to listen."
Using my hand, I push Mason's hand off of my shoulder. Ignoring his calls to stay back, I walk over towards the unsuspecting couple. I stand beside them. His eyes are shut. Completely unaware of my pressence. The girl who is dancing on my boyfriend moves her hand up above her head, her fingers entangling with his curls. That was enough for me to snap.
With all of my might, I push the girl off of him. She shrieks as she catches her balance. "What the hell!" She screams.
Harry opens his eyes. His gaze is lazy as he turns towards me. He looks down at me. His red rimmed green eyes are glazed over in irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The sleazy girl scolds me.
"Pushing off the bitch that's grinding on my boyfriend. What does it look like?" I fire back. Rage is filling my veins.
"Boyfriend?" She asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
Harry grumbles under his breath words that I can't seem to understand. "He's my boyfriend," I motion towards Harry.
"Oh." She looks me up and down. Her glassy eyes judging me as she does so. "He didn't mention anything about a girlfriend."
I bite back the tears that cloud my vision. I knew that Harry was annoyed with me. I got that. But what I didn't understand was why he would do something like this; why he would deliberately try to hurt me. I turn around to push my way back through the people and towards the front door.
He calls for me, but I run out. Away from him and away from the mess that this house created.