¶𝗥𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 [H.S]

1.19

The morning after, I woke up with a sharp ache in my head and a bad taste lingering in my mouth. The room reeked of weed and alcohol, yet I couldn't remember a thing after our conversation with Styles. Thinking of the devil - he was lying beside me. Naked. His head was buried in the pillow as he slept on his stomach. The few weird tattoos on his shoulder caught my eye - curved lines. I reached over, ready to kick him out of my house when my phone interrupted me. I wasn't going to pick it up, then Liam's name on the screen made me do it in a heartbeat.

Jumping off the bed, I buttoned up the black shirt on my body. The cloth was tight around my chest, barely reaching my arse. If I wasn't in a rush to answer my brother's call, I would've sat down and thought how his shirt ended on me. Pulling a pair of shorts up my legs, I left the room.

"Hel--"

"Search your name and check the news. Quickly," his loud, irritated voice made my throbbing head worse.

Chewing on my lips, I put him on speaker and followed his orders. Even though I searched for my name, the first photo on my screen was Charles Courtenay's. He was caught doing heroin in his car, in the nude. My mouth went dry as I checked the articles about me. The cover on most of them was a picture of me and Styles in front of the house. Tingles spread all around my body and up to my fingertips at the sight of the ones where I shared weed with him. I was about to have a heart stroke or mess up the guy sleeping in my bed. Nonetheless, I would've needed an ambulance.

"Are you a stupid sixteen-year-old, Melanie? Because surely you act and think as one!" I flinched, almost dropping my phone when he screamed through the speaker.

Melanie O'Coyle is closing the summer season with a joint and a new boy toy.

"No! A disappointment to our last name - that's what you are!" My brain was muting off Liam's voice, saving me the lectures that made my hands shake and legs weak. I wish something could plug off my sight to save me the headaches.

Charles Hudson's in the ER after partying hard with fellow ex-addict [Melanie O'Coyle] on even harder drugs!

"What an embarrassment you are!"

Melanie O'Coyle is freshly off Rehab and surrounded by hot, rich boys. Check now!

"What are you good for, huh? What are you good for!"

Left with trembling hands and a racing heartbeat, I leaned against the staircase railing. Every other article left my stomach in knots. His words twisted the screws and bolts in my head, making the headache violent. They cut deep, leaving blood traces behind on the white staircase. And when I looked over my shoulder, I could almost see all my guts and blood on the marble.

"What the hell were you thinking, Melanie?" he shouted, making my grip around the color of the shirt tighten. "I let you have a friend to not be alone on my birthday because I feel bad for you! Because you don't have any friends left. Because no one wants a drug addict as their friend. And what do you do? You fuck that tool in front of the cameras!"

And suddenly, guilt turned into anger.

"You hired them," I said through gritted teeth, walking into the kitchen.

"Yes, to fix our reputation! But thanks to you, it hit the bottom of Hell!" he scolded.

Massaging my forehead, I tried to keep the anger down. "Just order someone to take them down," I said, opening the cabinet and grabbing a wine bottle. It was hard to think when the headache took up all the space in my head.

"Oh, how didn't I think of that?! I guess the stupidity runs in the family!" The irony in his voice was more visible while he screamed. But I couldn't take more of his scolding. Putting him on mute, I opened the half-empty wine bottle to draw the headache in alcohol. Maybe I had to take one of the happy pills I was prescribed.