FAKE

twelve.

WARNING: this chapter contains mature scenes

Skipping this chapter will not affect the storyline, so feel free of doing so.  However, it is important to realize how the story will be building up.

(This is the only warning i'll be giving.)

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(the one with Gabrielle wanting Zayn but getting Harry)

Zayn left shortly after I had finished singing. It was obvious that we were both moved by the song. To be honest, his reaction had caught me off-guard (and mine too.)

I knew that I still felt stuff for Zayn, but regarding the fact that he was getting married very soon, I didn't think that he'd still have feelings for me.

My interaction with the rest of the guys became minimal after Zayn went away. It was obvious that something was going on between us and it frustrated me that he would play with me.

Because that's what he was doing.

Playing with me.

[Pity that he didn't know that we were playing even more with him.]

You know what they say, karma's a bitch.

"You know what?" Niall's voice sounded after Simon had told us that we could go home. "We have to stop worrying about these problems and have fun for once." He talked. "Let's go party."

Even though I had never been quite the party animal, I was all for it.

And even though Harry was the party animal, he wasn't.

Wonder why.

*

"Look out, I don't want your drunk ass falling and you hurting yourself." Harry's voice sounded as soon as we entered his house. His hand held my arm tightly. Even though he was trying his best to help my drunken state, he was mad and I knew it.

But of course that he would be mad. It's Harry.

"Oh, stop acting like such a dad." I groaned. "Why don't you act more like a daddy. Be my daddy, let's have fun"

"You know that I'd be all up to have fun if you weren't all drunk just because of a boy." He rolled eyes. "And don't call me daddy, it'll just make things weird."

"Fuck you, Harry." I tried to get off of him, but I couldn't. "Let me go, fucker." I almost cried. The alcohol plus Harry mentioning Zayn made me nervous.

"No, Gabs, you know that I don't mean it like that." He held me tighter, and then fixed my hair behind my ear. "I just hate you being broken, that's all. The daddy part though-" he bit his lip. "That's kinky, I like that."

"I'm not broken." I lied. "And shut up about the kinky part. You know I didn't mean it like that, Harry, Harry, Haz."

"I know you are broken, dear, and it's fine. We are all broken." He paused, his green irises looking at me, ignoring the last part of my statement.

It suddenly occurred to me that my best friend was - indeed - very, very hot.

"I can help though, just tell me what's wrong. Tell me what you're feeling." He pleaded, but I didn't speak.

"It's nothing Haz, don't worry." I spoke a lie after a second. Of course that I was lying.

To be honest, there was so much into my mind that I couldn't even put it into words. I wanted to talk to Harry, yes. I wanted to tell him what was wrong, but I couldn't. Getting drunk was one thing that I had never done before. To be honest, I didn't even know why I had done it today, but it felt as the only alternative.