𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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"Who are you wearing!"
"Miss Hayes, can you tell us about footballer Charlie Canning and heiress Astrid Friberg?"
"Harper, are you and Albie Forbes still dating?"
"How is Mr Forbes coping with life on the outside?"
I ignore all the paparazzi as we make our way into Park Chinois on Berkeley. My head is lowered till me, Astrid and Mia make it into the safety of the restaurant where we can spot the boys. It'd be hard to miss them. Six foot tall, mostly dark hair, that Forbes look that they both seem to have. Charlie and Carter (who I'm surprised to see) level them out a bit. Charming eyes, light hair, pearly whites on show every time they laugh.
We join them at the table, George pushes the chair beside him out and I take it. He leans over, gives me a kiss on the corner of my lip. No one seems to notice it. "Missed you," he whispers, breath smells strongly like alcohol.
He was at Forbes for more than just an hour or two. He's been out all afternoon and early evening but I'm not here to cause a scene.
"You two back on then?" Charlie wags a finger between us.
"We're friends, Charl. Friends can—." Friends don't greet each other the way we just did.
"Oh yeah? Friends? Oi, Astrid," Charlie tilts his chin at her then at us. "Fancy being friends? Apparently, they kiss now."
"You're such a dick," George grunts.
Albie sits mostly in silence till a girl from a nearby table saunters up to him and 'discreetly' slips a napkin into his hand. She's a pretty thing, comes from old money. Looks ethereal in a way. I'd be lying if I said deep down, I always felt a bit threatened by the girls he was attracting.
"What you drinking?" Charlie asks the table as a waiter stops by. We haven't ordered food yet. I'm starving.
"Soup," Astrid rolls her eyes. "Fuck drinks, Charlie I want food."
"Fuck, me too," Carter pats his stomach. I can't tell if he's sober. He has that look. Eyes always look heavy and tired, hairs always a bit ruffled. Nose is nine times out of ten, runny and red. It doesn't help matters that he actually does actively do drugs.
"—Haysie, what you having?" George nudges my side with his elbow. I quickly scan the menu.
"I'll have the king crab rice noodles, please," I close my menu. Pour myself a glass of water from the decanter on the table.
"So, how's working with criminals treating you?" Albie shuffles his hips upwards, slouching back slightly.
"Oh, you're not that bad—"
"He's just come back from fucking prison!" Mia laughs.
"Yes, but he's a good person deep down," I smack George's chest. Can tell he appreciates the praise even if it is in a jokey way. Plenty people think he's a bad person.
