Hidden Identities // H.S

Chapter 42

Harry Styles

Two weeks.

That's how long Jane and I have kept our distance from each other.

I said I'd give her time and all of that other nonsense, but I'm getting impatient. I'm playing hard to get but that made her play even more hard to get. She's driving me crazy.

I considered Niall's advice and all I ended up writing was something that looks like a child wrote it. That made me crumble up the paper and shoot it at my trash can. By the end of last week, my trash can was overflowing with paper balls.

Today Becca dragged all of us to this new nightclub that just opened up downtown. We've been here for an hour? I don't know. I've been at the bar the whole time, slowly drinking my whiskey and ignoring every flirtatious look I get. Fuck!

This isn't me. I wouldn't reject this many stares and attempted flirting. I would take the first girl to flirt with me into the bathroom or anywhere private. I wouldn't reject them. And now I can't do it. It somehow feels wrong.

I only got a quick glimpse of Jane when we were in the car. From what I saw she's wearing a tight black dress with her hair down. She looked hot, of course, she looked hot.

Her job is to be watching me but the whole night it's felt like I've been the one watching her. Well, I've been looking for her. She's not the only girl with a black dress on and the constant color-changing lights don't make it any easier. I just want to make sure she's safe. I haven't seen all of it but I've sure heard all of it. The spiking drinks, forcing themselves onto women, not taking no as an answer.

Drunk men are crazy. And for that reason, I've been trying to find Jane.

The bartender slides me over a shot of tequila with a lime slice wedged into the glass. I furrow my eyebrows, waiting for them to realize they gave the shot to the wrong person. The bartender motions with their eyes to the other side of the bar, my eyes following their gaze.

"Blondie sent it over for you."

The blonde girl in the red dress waves at me with a flirtatious smile across her face. I smile at her, waving back.

Normally I'd walk over there and flirt with her, take her somewhere private, and forget all about it the next morning. I'd screw her and leave before she'd wake up.

Now I don't feel anything. Fuck!

I break eye contact with her, drinking the shot in one gulp and skipping the lime. I still feeling the burning sensation at the back of my throat but I can barely notice the taste. I'm convinced all of the whiskey burned away my tastebuds or something like that.

I spin my stool back to face the dance floor, my eyes roaming all over the big crowd of dancing people. My eyes finally landed on her. How did I finally find her? Her pink bracelet.

She's dancing like every other drunk person here. Like nobody is watching. I watch her as she sways her hips and keeps dancing with her arms roaming around her body. She's dancing by herself and doesn't seem ashamed about it one bit.

I slightly chuckle at the sight of her dancing like that, turning back around to face the bar. I start sipping more on my glass of whiskey, letting the upbeat music fade away. What the hell am I still doing here? For once I'd rather be home than here. I rest my jaw against the palm of my hand, staring down at my nearly empty whiskey glass.