Privileged Murder

Eight

1st October, 6:00 am

< Harry's POV >

I really shouldn't have agreed to go to Grantly House, it's a 3 and a half-hour drive. Taking the piss for an alibi to be completely honest but I couldn't risk him not telling us. Anyway, I had hours till I had to meet Louis, at least 8 before I even had to get ready to leave, there is no chance of me getting back to sleep now so I might as well get into the station early.

I rolled out of bed, walked into my wardrobe and threw a hoodie and shorts on over my boxers, trudged to the kitchen and downed a pint of chilled water. Took a look in my fridge to see what to make for breakfast and realised it was practically empty, mental note to pop into the shop on the way home. With that, I pulled my Nike's on at the front door and was off for a morning run. My organisation was a bit bad as I forgot to put my AirPods and music on before I set off and I wasn't going to stop halfway through my lap around the neighbourhood so there I was, half trying not to get run over as I crossed the road and half fumbling with Spotify on my phone.

Finally, my music kicked in

*Half-past twelve
And I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone
How I hate to spend the evening on my own
Autumn winds
Blowing outside my window as I look around the room
And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom*

Absolute bop of a song and no one can ever tell me otherwise, Abba is revolutionary and will live on forever. That's what I love about them: Having a crush on your teacher, defeating the French, watching your daughter grow up, being poor, being horny, the break-up and the make-up, turning 17 - they have a song for every possible situation, covered all bases to be safe

*There's not a soul out there
No one to hear my prayer*

Ain't that about right, I've barely seen anyone on my run today, most people would think that would be unusual, especially in London but in the remote little community I live in it is completely normal. I live in a neighbourhood about five minutes outside of Chelsea, It has the safety and atmosphere of a small country village but the money and look fitting with the rest of high-flying London.

*Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight  Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day*

Okay, I'm pretty sure I looked crazy to anyone observing my current situation of running screaming the chorus to Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie but I was vibing so I don't care. I did a few more laps around my route and then started heading towards the local Waitrose, I picked up some milk and bread then some simple things for breakfast. It's only a five-minute walk from my house so it wasn't too much hassle.

When I got in I showered and made myself a full English breakfast, it's been a while since I've made myself a proper meal all I've been eating lately is microwave meals and takeaways that are usually ordered into the office. I stood at my kitchen island just with my towel resting around my hips whilst I ate, I wasn't risking getting my breakfast all over my clothes, especially seeing as I was planning on wearing a suit to work today. Looking up at the clock and realising it was half seven I decided I should probably get ready, I threw on my suit and then I was out the door.

Somehow the bubbly positive mood I was in this morning completely diminished on the short commute into work and now I was just grumpy, might have something to do with the fact that my normal ten/fifteen-minute journey now became thirty due to the amount of traffic, people don't know how to indicate, nor look before they try and cross the road, and to top it all off as I pulled into the station some twat had taken my parking space. And it's MINE, not that it's just the one I park in every day so I class it as mine, it is literally mine, it has a plaque, my name is literally on it. Ugh, people are fucking blind.