Love Hangover (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1-

Abriella's POV

The sound of my 7 inch heels hitting the cold, hard tile floor of the ABC Liquor store located in Sydney, Australia echoed through my ears. The smell of dingy cigarettes, and the thousands of bottles of burning liquids surrounded me like a bug on a bright, florescent light. I could just see the Jack Daniels label throughout the whole store, even on the isles far down from me. That, was the infamous sign of a blissful night. I smiled, looking to my left to see a 72 oz. bottle of the brown liquid sitting unacquainted. I grabbed the bottle off of the metal shelf, causing a banging sound to be made, squinting, and scanning my eyes to the left and right, also finding a bottle of Pinot Nior, Ellie's favorite wine. Smiling, I flicked my blonde, straightened locks over my shoulder, feeling a small amount of satisfaction, not equaling the amount acquired when the liquid would slide down my throat and slip into my system, putting me in a temporary bliss, only lasting until the next sip. I smiled at the thought and continued strutting clumsily to the register, careful not to slip and twist my ankle from the immense height gained from the heels. Smiling friendly at the scruffy and gray cashier, I watched, scanning his face as he nearly punctured his lip, knowing he was staring at my boobs as they were lethally threatening to fall out of my dress. I winked flirtatiously and bit my lip as I handed him the fake I.D. out of my candy-apple red clutch, admiring as he chuckled and nodded his head, slipping a slit of paper into the bag with my drinks. "Have a fun time." He smiled and leaned his elbow on the counter, trying to support his weight as he watched me walk out of the store. I made sure to wiggle my hips a little more than normal to give him a nice view. If he only knew that I was 16, and not interested. Before pushing the door all the way open, I decided to have a little fun with the guy. I turned around sharply to see him smiling and biting his lip out of satisfaction, my conscience knowing his spine wasn't the only thing standing up right at that moment. "Take a picture, its about the only shot you'll ever get with me" I said, accompanied with a wink. He stood there, completely shell shocked, standing up and walking to the left into a swinging door. I took a few steps out the door as I heard the motion sensor go off, walking down the sidewalk towards Ellie's bright headlights. I stopped hastily, and pulled the bag of drinks closer to my face, hearing the glass clank together with the movements. Slipping my free hand in the bag, I grabbed the slit of paper out of the carrier. "Douche." I whispered as I let the number and name float aimlessly into the wind of the Australian night.

"Did you get the stuff?" Ellie asked as soon as I stepped into her brand new, red Porsche Carrera. Let's just say her family has money, with her grandfather being the inventor of Spam, and both of her parents being Neurosurgeons; they are on the high side of West Sydney. Although, my dad is also. My whole family has grown surrounded by money, and also around the reminder of the level of perfection that must be followed and exceeded throughout their lives. However, that level of perfection and amiable greatness must have skipped a generation; mine specifically. "Yeah, I got it." I said, ready for her to step on the pedal and get us to the party. My ambition to feel that burning liquid slide down my throat was increasing with each block, mansion, and empty street we rode by.

"Let's go crazy, crazy, crazy, till we see the sun!" Ellie and I belt out as we danced sloppily or drunkenly to the infamous song 'Live While We're Young'. The cup of the burning, brown liquid was hooked on my lips, as some guy's hands were hooked on my hips, and his crotch dug intothe small of my back, telling me there was no way I could get any closer to him. I continued to dance, and watched as Ellie started grinding on an older guy with slightly gray hair, and a muscular body, his arms bulging as he held tightly onto her hips, puncturing his lip, feeling her hand wrap around his neck seductively. If only these guys knew our age, and our immediate loss of interest with each move taken. I continued to drink, and dance with the stranger until I felt like I couldn't walk anymore, feeling suddenly dazed and dizzy, wishing there was an available seat. I stopped suddenly, removed the poor bloke's hand, and clacked my red heels against the floor towards the door, feeling ready for a smoke break. I could feel the guys hand slip from around my hips as I broke away from his loose, drunken grasp, and walked towards the bulky bouncer, also feeling his stares on my bum. I walked past him out the door to feel the salty Sydney air hit me suddenly, making me catch my breath again and shake it off, still struggling to put one foot in front of another to transport my body. I kept walking to the left, falling against the brick wall, feeling the familiar looseness and emptiness as the alcohol floated like a river through my blood stream. I pulled the lighter and box of Marlboro Reds out of my bra, knowing that the bouncer was still staring with wide eyes. Sticking the intoxicating stick of acetone, and chemical products in my mouth, I watched as the fuel from my pink lighter made a flame dance from the hole, and leap onto the end of my cigarette. The oh-so familiar feeling of the nicotine travelling through my mouth infected my lungs as half of the smoke flowed freely out my nose. I followed the same routine, pulling the cigarette out of my mouth, and watching as the remaining smoke floated aimlessly into the Sydney air, causing a small amount of pollution to erupt. I looked to my left, and picked the small, growing weed out of the sidewalk next to me, continuing to play with the abolished grass. What kind of messed up sixteen year old am I? I mean, I binge every night, drink until I can't even see, and smoke almost a pack a day. I'm almost like that small weed, attempting to grow through the crack of the sidewalk, while knowing that its almost impossible to grow in a place where bigger people are going to walk all over you, and show you just what darkness is. Like I said, or thought, the level of perfection must have skipped a generation.

I ended up walking home, not wanting to interrupt Ellie's dancing and drinking session. I walked in the door, not even caring about how much noise I was making from closing the wooden, and heavy swinging object. Leaning against the heavy frame, I slipped off my red, Louis Vuitton heels, revealing my red, glossed toes, and large, red blisters scattered across my heels, the tops of my feet, and my ankles. I cursed silently, reminding myself to put these shoes in the back of my closet. I stumbled into the kitchen with my heels swung over my shoulder, and my hips involuntarily swinging from the music being embedded into my brain. I walked over to the light switch and turned it on, almost immediately admitting it, knowing I was going to have a major headache attack my brain and temples in approximately two minutes. When I recovered from the blinding light, I noticed two beady eyes staring back into mine, assessing my hair and slutty dress. "Pftt." I remarked, noticing my dad's bulky stature on the other side of the kitchen island. "Abriella Claire, where have you been?" My father's deep, masculine voice spoke. Yep, here comes the headache. "Out" I blurted out, as I walked over to the Keurig coffee machine and pressed on, knowing that the caffeine would not only relieve my headache, but also relieve my of the terrible hangover that was going to hit me tomorrow. I turned my back from my father, hoping that would tell him that I wasn't in the mood for hearing what he had to say, or his opinion of the subject at hand. "Out? Out is going for a walk, not going to clubs, and getting in with some fake I.D. that you scammed off of a guy on a street corner. You reek of the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Abriella, I am tired of you dragging me along with you towards this bloody hell you are on the path towards. Ever since your mom died, you have raised hell everywhere, your sixteen for god sakes!" I've heard this same speech a million times, and it still hasn't ever phased me. I shifted onto my other foot, relieving the stress off of my left one. I kept my arms crossed as I leaned on the counter with my elbows. The headache was pounding, and I knew that this house would never have a bottle of Tylenol in it. Not since mom died. "No response? That's surprising." My father rhetoriated, angering me even more. "I'm done!" The sound of his fist hitting the kitchen island startled me. I jumped a little, but covered by still shifted onto my other foot, waiting for another remark to come out of his mouth. "You know what, since you think you are an adult, and are old enough to get high, and drunk... You don't need to live at home anymore. I want you out by tomorrow, eight AM sharp, and I don't want to see any of your belongings in this house." I could feel his finger pointing at the back of my skull from the spiral stairwell. Ok, I must admit, this made me open my eyes. Was he serious? I'm sixteen, and where will I go? I have no family in Sydney! Do I live on the streets? No, I have too much money to do that. "And don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." This was the last thing I heard before my dad' s footsteps travelling up the stairs echoed throughout the empty house. I, Abriella Claire Fulton was officially homeless, and I had no idea what to do.