There's going to be a lot less updates as of right now because I am in hoospital. Ya girl got stabbed🕺it's minor but I'll be back soon chickies😙😙
"No." I turn over. Louis leans with me, looking at me with a big grin. "I know you've just gotten some of your feelings back, but we're in California and I'm begging you not to be mad at me."
"I think I will actually." He kisses my cheek, turning me onto my back. "I will buy you things. Fun things so that you can remember what joy feels like."
"You're actually jarring you know." His smile only grew. His hand resting on my cheek as he kissed my nose. "I'm sure that comment would be a lot harsher if I actually knew what you said."
"Fuck off," I was fighting a smile and he knew it too. "I am not having sex with you. Ever."
"Okay?" He leans down to kiss me. "If I would've, I would've won 5 grand."
"5 grand!? That's how much you get for sleeping with me!?" Now everybody in this hotel thinks I'm a prostitute. "Yeah? Oh I didn't tell you that part. Sorry my bad."
"Oh my god. I'm worth a 5 grand fuck." Louis frowns. "Uh, there's so many other people that have tired this Harry. You're worth about 20 grand- to sleep with. Although Diana says that you're worth about- I think she said half a billion I'm not gonna lie. 500 million."
"Oh my god. That's fucking awesome." He laughs awkwardly. "I'm not sure being- wanted for 500 million is a good thing."
"Are you kidding, of course it is. Oh my god I'm going to fake my death again and get some money, you wanna help me?"
"How does that even work? Who do you get the money from?" He squints. "Clearly you've never been wanted before. There's a group of people, they are the ones that make sure you're dead. I'm gonna have to take this one step further because I've done this before."
"You've faked your death? It would've been in the news." Now he's asking too many questions. "Not if I'm faking my death. Imagine 'Harry Styles dead at 18' no mother fucker I'm right here. Like, it would cause some, problems. They'd have to make up a bunch of stories and then they'd have to explain why I don't have a grave and why- 500 million, US dollars has been taken from a grouped collective. It's a lot of work."
"Seems like there's more to it than just dying and getting money." He frowns. "Oh yeah. Absolutely. There's more to the band too. We were supposed to die off until we were all gone and then we just disappeared off the face of the earth. But that uh- backfired. If I'm wanted for that much, how much is Marz?"
"Would it not be the same? You have the same skills and experience." I reach for my phone, kissing his forehead. "I'll take that as a compliment. Marz is probably one of the scariest people I know. She's fucking great at her job and it scares me."
"I don't, know what she does. She goes in a pissy when she's reminded about it all. Does that mean there's a reason?"
"Yeah. She's fucking psycho. Baby I'm so serious, if you ever, I mean ever, piss her off to the point where you end up on her hit list, just know that I cannot save you, the second your name is even written, you're dead."
"Do you not know how she works?" I huffed out a laugh. "God no. Nobody does. She's fast, she's quiet, she was top of her class for every single year. By the time she was 14 she became, as my father called her, messoris umbra. Repeats shadow. I don't know how she does it but my god is it great."
"So Zayns got a thing for crazy people?" I nod slowly. "Oh yeah, no he loves it- fuck yeah. I found it." I sit up a little further. Leaning over so that he can see. "None of these are names."
"No we don't have names. We were named at like four I think. Everybody found the appropriate name. My name is technically Atlas Sintemino, but it's just- so much. These are all either randomised letters or nicknames that have been circled."
"Letters?" He leans in closer. "Yeah. Letters and numbers. You're either born an alumni or you're born a test subject. I'd say I got lucky but my dad didn't want me so I got the test subject part. Anyway, you're born with a code and you keep that code until you become good enough for people to start naming you."
"What's yours?" I huff. "I'm just, 09. When I'm seen, they know my face. But nobody actually knows who I am which is, hilarious to me because I'm not very good at hiding."
"So all those times you've almost been killed? What about that?" He laughs. "Oh I'm a bit of a tease- not like that. I just, i like to make people think that somebody else is going after them and then they'll freak out and see me, the freak out stops and then, that's when I usually do my job. But I've been slacking lately cause you fucking draw in dickheads."
"This tells you everything- Hm." He grabs my hand. Checking it over. "Don't think about it too hard Louis. Anyway, you were lied to, I'm worth 1.2 billion. Harry Styles is worth 500 million. Which means I'm worth 1.7. Marz is- Jesus Christ, 2.5."
"Billion?" He squeals out. "Mhm. Louis she's killed thousands. It's insane how many people are on her list. She probably keeps it somewhere. It'll be miles long though. Daisy is worth 1.9 billion."
"Daisy? Daisy Norwell? The girl who can't go pee on her own?" I nod slowly. "Yeah she's a scary girl. There was this one time, she made this guy piss himself- because of the way she kills. It was fucking hilarious."
"How does she do it?" I tap his nose. "If I told you then I'd have to kill you. Zayn is 2.1, which makes sense." I felt myself almost heave. "Can I know how he does it?" I shake my head. "I can tell you that it could probably scare your dad. He doesn't scare easily, I've seen that man do some crazy shit, he's like my hero. But Zayn, fucking terrifying."
"What about when you do your collective tasks? How does that work?" I had the biggest smile on my face. "The world may never know. It's fun though. It's like an amusement park."
"That is terrifying, your pupils are huge. You like actually enjoy it." I looked up at him slowly. "Maybe. You can't blame me, this has been drilled into me since I was born. Killing is what I know, killing is the reason I'm great at cutting my food."
"Oh- gross." The door flies open, every single one of them piling in. "What's happening over here then?" Hero asked. "Oh we were looking up our hit man prices."
"Oh, cute. Has mine gone up?" Marz asked. "You're at 2.5." Zayn kisses her head with a big smile. "That's my girl. What's mine?"
"2.1." He gasps. "It's gone up, must've been the madden case." Daisy snickers. "The irony."
"How come we never see you guys do all of these things?" Hero asked. "Because we're sneaky like that." I said, raising my eyebrows like an idiot. "No I'm serious."
"So am I." Louis hums. "It says what it looks like when you're dead, but there's nothing saying how you get there."
"That's because if there was, then the person we're killing isn't dead. You know what that means?" Marx asked, her nose scrunching. "What?" She holds up a finger gun to Zayns head. "Dead."
"She's so dramatic. She's right, but she's dramatic." Daisy says. "So since you guys know each other's movements, apart from Marz obviously. But doesn't that mean you could easily just, kill each other?"
"In ore gladii tui tam hebes esse potest quam verba tua. The edge of your knife can be as dull as your words." He frowns at me. "What?"
"To betray is weak, your words are weak. Which makes you weak. The edge of your knife, becomes dull, you are known, seen, they have you completely blind to the death you're about to endure."
"Yeah for some reason his father decided guns were just, not cool. He's really into knives." I heave, watching Zayn smile at his stupid joke.
"All I know now is that you guys are fucking masochistic and that she, is not somebody I would enjoy sitting alone with." Marz nods. "That's fair. But I would never hurt you. Because despite me being, smarter and cooler and just, better. If you die, he shuts off and then I'm screwed."
"Yeah he's fucking scary when he's gone. He still loves his music though." I shrugged. "I know what I like. Sue me."
