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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I wake up the next morning due to the sounds of barking. A weird sort of growl/barking wakes me up. I push the covers back on George's bed, crawl over his side and move the curtains from his French doors. Stepping onto the balcony and feeling the balmy morning air, I have to rub my eyes a good few times to make sure I'm seeing this correctly.
But if I am seeing this correctly then there's a baby lion jumping around the garden while George dangles a rare steak in front of its face. Maybe I'm dreaming—I have got to be fucking dreaming.
"Oi, Haysie!" George calls up. I'm not dreaming. "Come down."
I sigh, make my way through the house till I reach the garden. Carter's lounging on a sun bed wearing only the Dsquared2 crown-detail cotton cap and the GG jacquard jogging pants from Gucci. Looks like a 2016 YouTuber but who am I to judge? Charlie and Albie sit on the daybed, passing a joint back and forth.
"What the fuck is going on?" I hold my hand up to shield my eyes from the beaming sun. I'm hungover from last night because I did end up going out. After what Albie said—the bullshit about George breaking my heart again, I decided to fuck it and go out with them. My brain can't take this, it's too early.
Astrid's asleep somewhere. Probably the sofa. I was up for Mia to come back but she refused—went back to my apartment instead. We didn't apologise or anything but she was drunk and so was I, and I think I got a bit sloppy. The same didn't go for Albie, though. Still not talking to him.
"He's my new pet," George laughs, throwing the steak across the grass. The little lion runs for it. I cringe watching it tear the meat to shreds.
"You can't keep lions as pets."
"He fucking will," Carter remarks, pointing his joint at George. "And they call me crazy, Haysie. I can't believe it."
"Where did you get a fucking lion?" I stress, glancing at them all for some answers. "Where?!"
George laughs, walking over to me. "Some guy I know knows a guy who knows a guy and just asked me if I wanted a baby lion. I said yeah."
"No," I shake my head. "If you keep that here, I'm leaving for good."
I walk into the kitchen, leave them to it. I know George had a Rottweiler growing up—died when he was about ten, though. It was Blake's—he had it for years. The boys really loved him. He's never had a pet since, not a proper one. He's had exotic things like snakes and other gross things.
Maybe if I buy him another Rottweiler, he'll send that poor lion to a sanctuary—where it belongs. George comes in, washes his hand.
"It is cute, though," I tilt my head, glancing at the little white cub running around the garden. "What kind is it, do you know?"
"White lion cub," George nods.
"Fuck off—they're like...you can't even buy them." I look over at him but he stares back with absolute certainty.
