Bad Reputation

Do or Die

The funny thing about a bad reputation is that no matter how outlandish it is, at the end of the day it's based on truth. It's easy to deny this, to believe it's merely something built on speculation and appearances, but you can never really trump the fact that if someone is considered bad, it's usually because they are bad. It took me a long time to learn this lesson, in fact it wasn't until my twenty fourth birthday that I fully realized this.

The first time I saw him it was a foggy night in London. The bar I'd been invited to was far stingier than I thought and I was beginning to question Ed's choice in venues. I felt as though I stuck out like a sore thumb, an obvious outsider, unlike my redhead friend. I was lanky and blonde and so obviously stereotyped 'a sweetheart' that I looked like a giant florescent dot in a sea of grey, black and leather. I nursed my vodka and soda, glancing furtively around from my position beside Ed in the smokers area. My English friend was engrossed in a conversation with someone I'd been vaguely introduced to earlier and whose name I'd already forgotten. It wasn't as though either of them were paying attention to me anyway. In that moment of self-doubt, my eyes landed on him.

He was lanky, limbs covered in black denim and leather. He wore laced up boots and a pair of rounded black sunglasses that sat perched on his head, despite the fact the sun had gone down many hours ago. Everything about him seemed to be washed in shades of desaturation, even the color of his iris' appeared to be a dark black instead of the muddy brown they probably were. His lips were quirked, a deadly sure smile etched into one side of his cheeks, confidently lopsided. A cigarette was perched between his thin lips and his dark eyes sparkled with mirth at something that was being said to him by his taller blonde friend. This same friend was the one who a moment later motioned my way. I tried to duck my head, but I found myself unable to look away when the dark haired boy glanced over. He stared simply, with no intention of pretending he wasn't. He looked bemused and curious, dragging the lit cigarette from his lips and tilting his head backward as a trail of smoke blew from his casually sure smile. A tap on my arm was the only thing that could break me out of this momentarily intense staring match.

"Oi Taylor!" Ed's voice drew me from my own curiosity, causing me to turn my head so quickly I got whiplash. My redheaded friend was looking at me with slight concern.

"Yeah?" I asked dumbly and Ed chuckled. I noticed his friend had gone and the cigarette Ed had been smoking was stubbed out on the ashtray on the table beside us.

"You coming?" He asked motioning to where his friend was walking away, heading toward the downstairs bar area. I nodded, still unsure of what was going on, following Ed silently. As we reached the stairs I glanced back toward the mysterious man from before, only to note that both him and his friend were nowhere to be seen. It was almost as though they were never there to begin with. I shook away this crazy thought.

-

"Harry, shut up." I laughed at the expression on my boyfriend's face as he pouted down at me, hands tangled in my recently cut hair. We were lying in the bed at his apartment and I couldn't help but marvel at how perfect everything had been going. Harry and I had met through Ed and shortly afterward had begun dating. It had been six months and I couldn't be happier with how things were going. Having someone like Harry in my life helped ease the immense homesickness I'd felt when I'd first daringly moved to London, leaving behind my family, friends and familiarity. I'd even met his parents and sister and had plans to introduce him to my own family when they visited for easter next year.

"Come on; just say I'm the best. Don't make me invoke tickle torture!" He cooed and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his immaturity.

"All you did was move the tv into the bedroom. It isn't exactly a ground breaking thought, you idiot." I replied with a teasing smile upon my face. I couldn't resist his green puppy eyes even at the best of times, and he was really overdoing it, so I found myself relenting a moment later. "Fine...you're the best, Harry." I repeated dully and Harry lit up at his victory.