// A W2S Fanfic //
If it is true that "insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results", then Alex had been living in insanity her whole life.
Alex feels like she as been going through the motions for way too lo...
*trigger warning: allusions to alcohol, drugs, and sexual assault.*
Harry being glued to his phone all day has become a very familiar sight regardless of whether he was about to film something with his friends, going out or at home. He got teased about it a lot, and he would waffle on about how he's on twitter or just scrolling through instagram. But really, with him and Alex still trying to keep in touch despite the ridiculous distance and the difference in time zones, he just couldn't put his phone down.
They were both busy. Him with filming, KickTown, going out, and trying out different sports. Meanwhile, Alex continued to work two jobs, freelancing, and going out with Kate nearly everyday.
Harry
So disappointed in you.
What? What did I do?
Those pickup lines were sad.
Oh. Oh! Don't want to pick anyone up when I already got you.
More shit lines? Also... you got me? A bit presumptuous, isn't it?
Well you're the only one I want to pick up.
Right...
I mean look at you.
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I hate you. Delete that already.
Are you kidding? There's no way! You'd have to come over And delete it yourself ❤️
Ever since Cal had sent everyone that photo of her at work, Harry hasn't stopped teasing her about it. Mostly because she hated it and would always blush when he brought it up. She had a sense of embarrassment about it that she couldn't shake off. And for the record, she was working as a cocktail waitress at a strip club. And yes, tits for tips.
Sometimes she felt as if she had to objectify herself just to make money. And to a degree, she supposed there was power in that; in taking ownership of your own body and sexuality and using it to your advantage. But that brings on a lot of baggage for her: people who used her, people whom she allowed to use her.
Of what she felt was a high bodycount, most of which she couldn't remember, many she hadn't consented to. But she pushed those thoughts down, down deep. Chasing it with alcohol, until it rests at the pit of her stomach, bothersome but far enough away from her head.
