¶𝗥𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 [H.S]

1.15

After I paid our coffee bill, Aiden and I split. She walked to the nearest bus station while I called a taxi. I offered her to drive with me, but she was quick to decline. I couldn't help but feel like she did that because I turned her down. She really wanted to go to that perfume store. I noticed her eyeing it as we walked out of the mall. She didn't say a thing about it, but her coldness was enough for me to take the hit. And the last thing I wanted her to do was to be cold to me. She stood on my mind until I ordered her favorite perfume online and wrote her address for the shipment. I knew she would recognize who paid for it. I also knew how happy she would be. The way to her heart was through gifts and compliments. And I didn't mind spoiling her.

When the taxi driver stopped in front of the shut-down pizza place, Joe's Slices, I zoned out. She took me here once. I remember having an eating contest as we rated all her boyfriends. When I went home, I was so excited that I talked Liam's ear off and found the courage to tell my father. Sadly, one day later, the place was closed for health reasons. Everyone knew it closed because of a cockroach attack, but I never told anyone it was my father who wrote a complaint letter about it. He found a way to cut whatever gave me even slight happiness right from the root.

The place looked nothing like what I remembered. It was vandalized to the bone. The windows were broken down, the sign no longer glew in the obnoxious green light, and graffiti over the entire brick building. I walked to the other side of the street, finding it hard to keep my eyes that once held so many happy memories. When I got inside the apartment building, the scent of mold made me gag. However, I still walked the stairs until a neon sign irritated my eyes. The hallway was a slim fit, letting me hear the loud music right from the entrance of the building, and now that I was so close, I could barely recognize ASAP Rocky's voice.

I knocked a few times on the door - not sure if they would've been able to hear me due to the loudness of the music. But soon after, the crooked door parted.

"We're not turning down the music, babe," he shouted in an authentic British accent, not turning to face me straight away.

Everyone in Washington was British these days. It was becoming annoying.

He tried to close the door, but my foot stopped him. The Brit turned his head, making me swallow hard. It was one of those guys from Niall's house. One of Blake's friends. And if the blue-eyed, high-cheekbone guy was answering the door for Colson, it only meant two things. One, he and his friends were buying from Colson - which didn't make sense because of Curly. And two, they were definitely friends. It was a small world, but not that small for all assholes to be buddies.

"I'm here for Colson," I began speaking when he didn't say anything but looked at me in annoyance. It was blatant he didn't remember me. "A friend of mine sent me. Her name is Aiden, Aiden Parker," I tried to talk over the music, but it was hard when you didn't have any stimulants running through your veins.

He squeezed his brows, "Aight, and who the fuck is you?"

"Are," I corrected him.

Then he squeezed his brows together harder, "Ar? What are you? A fucking pirate?"

The guy was drunk. Or high. Or both. Which meant I was in the right place.

"It's supposed to be, who the..." I cleared my throat instead of swearing, "are you."

He watched me in confusion for a second before he burst into laughter. "Aight, I like you. Come on in," he shrugged, wide-opening the door for me.

The weed scent only got stronger as I got inside. I bet I could get high only by the leftovers in the air. Though, the music was thicker than the aroma. I could almost feel the song hitting the walls and drive back around the room, or I was already under the influence. As I walked down the hallway with Louis, I couldn't help but stare at everything that pointed me to this wasn't where I should be. The wallpaper was wearing out, showing every other stain on the wall that they had to cover up with the godawful wallpaper. The rug I tried not to step on had multiple burnt pieces, even though the floors looked clean. Next to the archway was a corkboard filled with faces I knew and didn't, medicine I tried and didn't, and everything in between. I found myself gazing at a number when the music stopped for a second. But the silence was quickly filled with moans and slaps.