𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 - 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴

Whiskey

(boyxgirl)
Fem Zayn

+mature

She refreshed her insta feed, this was the place to be. The lively pub, had a chorus of noises beckoning from its doors. The wooden architecture clashed with the modern buildings surround it.

She had to remind herself why she was here, she's dead Zayn muttered under her breath. She got out of her second hand Ford and entered the pub, taking note of her unkempt appearance she went to the bathroom to appear presentable.

She washed her face and pinched her cheeks giving the illusion of a rouge, detangling her hair with her fingertips and rolling up her denim shorts, she tied her shirt above her abdomen.

Leaving the restroom she took note of the company she was looking for, Dericks kids. They came in one small group, because their father ran the place and it was the only bar they could go without getting carded. She knew this because of the information Marlee had given her, as well as the information she found on their social media's.

Alyssa Caldwell was the leader of the group, Dericks daughter of she had long blonde hair and pouty lips with an air of practiced boredom clouding her, the type of practiced boredom most girls have even though they wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Next their was Alex Caldwell the younger slightly less impressive younger brother, he had the same blonde hair as his sister, the same blonde hair as Marlee and her son. And had the salesman aura to him, the confident white man aura, Zayn had nicknamed it.

Along with them was a slightly shorter black girl with curly hair that resembled a halo and a nose ring that shone in the pubs neon lighting. Their was also a pale boy with green eyes and curly hair, he slumped awkwardly on a bar stool. He looked at Alyssa with a strange dazed look.

Zayn remembers the video she had come across on Alyssas Instagram, it was a simple video of her dancing, but the way Harry looked at her, this unreal mixture of love and devotion. It made her heart hurt.

A small part of her wondered what it would be like to have someone look at her like that, she quickly brushed away these thoughts and focused on her task at hand, her sole goal. Avenging her sister.

She approached them tentatively, in short steps. She was no longer Zayn she was someone else, a confident brazen woman that wasn't afraid of anything. She would go by Laila today, because in her mind Laila was a tool constructed, a false identity she could step in on her trail to her sisters murderer.

"Alyssa are you really texting Brent again," the black girl said with an exasperated sigh, "you said you weren't going too."

"Seriously Alyssa we are here to have fun," her brother snatched her phone from her manicured hands and stuck his tongue out at her. They stuck out like a sore thumb, the rich shiny kids in a club full of losers and dropouts like Zayn.

"Whatever I wasn't going to anyways," she crossed her arms and flared at them. Before calming down with a sip of the fruity drink she held. Zayn felt herself become nervous, she asked for a glass of whiskey from the bartender who gave it to her, and for once she was grateful for her sullen face, it lent her an air of aged maturity.

She felt the trash pub music in her veins and taking a huge gulp of her fiery drink, she let loose, hand waving, she felt beautiful and crazy and she loved it. She didn't give a fuck about all the people gawking at her, she opened her eyes and saw the green eyed boy staring at her, jaw unhinged.

"Well that was quite an entrance," Alyssa said before looking at Zayn in that pointed way girls do. Pretty girls made normally zayn nervous, but she was Laila today so she looked back.

"Hi," she smirked back, "I'm Laila."

"How did you find out about this place," Alex said in a newsman's voice.

"Your Instagram made it seem like the place to be," she responded.

"Did you just admit to insta stalking me?" Alyssa said in shock.

"Yeah," zayn shrugged her shoulders and took another chug of liquid courage.

"Damn," Alex chuckled, "what's your name, you seem cool as fuck."

"I'm Laila," Zayn lied.

"Cool, that's Jessica right there," he pointed towards the girl with the curly hair, "and that's Harry, the tall guy and I'm Alex."

"Nice," she smiled, before swaying to the music and subtly staring at Harry, he was well attractive. Zayn had slim to none experience with boys, in cold creek she was too busy taking care of her sister to even care about boys, and she was a dropout so she didn't really have much experience with kids her age anyways.

"So Laila are you from around here?" Alyssa asked.

"Um yeah I just moved here," she lied.

"Wait are you moving into the Johnson's house, the one near the elementary school?" Jessica asked. Perfect Zayn thought.

"Yeah," zayn smiled, "that's the one."

"I heard it's like really nice, it has a pool and everything," Harry finally joined the conversation, his voice was deep and sensual. Zayn looked at her feet, unused to the sensation of a crush.

"Let's dance guys," Alyssa slurred.

Curtly after Alyssa left, Harry whispered to Zayn, "Alyssa probably hates you now."

"Why?" Zayn feigned interest, she could give less of a fuck.

"The crazy entrance," Harry started, "that's her thing, being the center of attention." When he talked about Alyssa he had this daydream look in his eyes, admiration or love, maybe both. "Um do you wanna dance?" He asked unsurely staring at his toes. Zayn looked down, he had quite large feet.

"Sure," she smiled because a little fun never hurt.

They danced the the pub music, the smell of sweat and alcohol drifting with cheap cologne and heavy perfume overtaking the atmosphere.

Their hands caressed against each other slightly.

They took a break to drink a little more.

"I can't believe he approached you," Alyssa smiled next to Zayn. "He's such a pussy."

"He's hot," Zayn said.

"Sure," Alyssa said, "if you're into clumsy guys. I would date him, but he's just too sensitive."

"Who asked?" Zayn responded savagely.

Alyssa looked at her in a look of disbelief and rage.

A/N:
Part 2 when I find motivation
Long ass update for trepidation jsyk