Unlikely (H.S.)

fifty-five

~Friends~

Raven's was slow that night, the kind of lull that made the neon reflections feel brighter than usual on the polished bar top. Nate was restocking glasses while Daphne and Amalia sat at the counter, phones tilted toward each other. Hunter leaned on a stool behind them, scrolling.

It started with a sharp intake of breath from Amalia.

"Guys. Look."

She turned her screen around. DeuxMoi was wide open, filled with grainy photos, and there they were. Harper and Harry in Barcelona, walking through the Gothic Quarter, sunlight slipping between buildings, her tucked under his arm with a quiet ease that made all three of them freeze.

Daphne grabbed the phone to zoom in. "She looks happy." Her voice cracked a little. "Like really happy."

Hunter clicked on his own screen. More photos were popping up. Harper inside the tent with the crew during the show, her face lit up by stage lights, his hand on her shoulder while he leaned down to say something. The comments were already piling up, full of speculation and excitement.

Nate set a glass down a little too hard. "Good for her," he said. "She deserves every bit of that."

But he did not look away from the photo. There was pride there, but also worry. They all felt it. Watching her world change from a distance always hit them strange. She was their girl, the one who made them laugh at two in the morning and showed up with baked goods whenever anyone was sad. Seeing her orbit shift this fast pulled at them in ways they did not always say out loud.

Amalia nodded slowly. "I hope she is not seeing any of the comments. People can be so cruel."

"She is with him," Hunter said. "He will keep her safe. He better."

Before Nate could respond, the door opened behind them. A cold rush of outside air brushed through the bar, followed by a familiar heaviness that settled right in Nate's stomach.

Tripp walked in.

He looked rough. Not drunk this time, but clearly running on spite and adrenaline. His eyes flicked around until they landed on the three of them at the counter. A slow smirk pulled across his face, like he had found something he thought he deserved.

"So you all knew," he said, stepping closer. "All this time, she has been running around Europe with him, and no one bothered to mention it to me."

Daphne immediately straightened. "She does not owe you anything."

Tripp scoffed. "Of course you would say that. You always hated me."

"Because you were a terrible fucking boyfriend," Amalia said. "That's why, bitch."

Tripp didn't take Amalia's honesty very well. He took another step. Hunter planted himself between Tripp and the girls. Nate moved around the bar, arms crossed, ready to intervene.

Tripp's gaze cut back to the phones on the counter. "Show me the pictures."

"Fuck, no," Nate said, calm but firm. "You need to leave. Get out of here"

Tripp's jaw twitched. "That bitch is humiliating me. In public. With him, some fucking fruity singer boy. That fucking lawsuit is bad enough and now this, bull shit."

"You humiliated yourself," Hunter said. "You did that all on your own."

The temperature in the room changed. Tripp shoved Hunter in the shoulder, not hard enough to knock him over, but hard enough to make a statement. Nate stepped in fast, grabbing Tripp's arm before it escalated.