𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

24.

TRIGGER WARNING: discussions, mentions, and a brief description of sexual assault and rape ahead!

...

Chapter 24

"I'll pay you back," I tell Harry.

Instead of nodding in agreement, Harry slides on a pair of black sunglasses. He doesn't answer, but only hums along to Bohemian Rhapsody that blares from the speakers of his car. He's ignoring me as he drives us away from the apartment complex.

"Harry," I say to get his attention. Not this again.

To the beat of the drums, Harry taps a finger into the air. He's right on sync before singing, "I don't wanna die. I sometimes wish I never been born at all..."

Without much enthusiasm and pure melancholy in his tone, I watch him. He brings both hands onto the wheel as he maneuvers through L.A. traffic. Then, he's swaying his head to the guitar solo. He's even scrunching his nose and for a split second, I don't want to bother him at all.

I want to keep observing.

But the money. It's a shit ton for him to waive off. Though, I don't understand why he would in the first place. "Harry," I say his name again. But when he's too lost in the music, I reach for the dial to lower the volume down.

"Don't you fucking dare," he warns, snapping his head towards me. Even though I can't see his eyes behind his black sunglasses, I can tell he's throwing a threatening gape my way.

I freeze. "Well, I just want to talk about the-"

"Shut up."

No. "Don't tell me to-"

"Shut up... I like this part."

I huff, standing down only because I appreciate this song, too.

He lifts his hand off the wheel again, waving his finger in the air as if he's the composer to Queen's opera-influenced tune. "...I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me. He's just a poor boy from a poor family."

Under my breath, I then say, "Spare him his life from this monstrosity..." I turn my head to look out the window.

He hums the next line before yelling, "Bismillah, no!"

I crack into a smile, biting down on my lip to contain my excitement when I'm reminded of that scene from the movie Wayne's World. I begin to bob my head to the buildup of my favorite part—the part that makes you want to bob your head harder and scream out the lyrics. Though, I'm too timid to do that in front of Harry. I pierce my lips instead then look over at him.

His hand is out the window, still singing. It's when I notice, he has a nice voice. He's bobbing his head. With no hands on the wheel, he's then hitting the air drums with closed fists. He sings some more but doesn't shout the song the way it's meant to be shouted. By the end of Bohemian Rhapsody, Harry heaves a sigh. "Fuck, overplayed... but still good," he says and finally lowers the volume down before the next song could start.

"Yeah, I like that song, too," I say. "Anyway... About the money, I'll pay you back."

"Just pay your damn rent on time," he says as if six grand isn't worth anything.

"No," I respond. "I mean, yeah... I'll pay my rent on time, but I'm not letting you waste six grand on me."

"That's the thing, I didn't."

"But she said-"

"With a little persuasion, she waived it."

I grimace, mostly due to not knowing what the hell he means by that. I suck in my cheeks, gently biting the inner flesh between my teeth. I then ask, "What do you mean with a little persuasion?"