The Bad and The British

Old Friend, New.Enemy

   I let the heavy coat fall off of my shoulders and into the floor, shutting the door behind me. I tossed my door key on the kitchen bar and pulled my phone from my pocket, turning it on to call my mom.

   "Hey there, babe," I heard from the living room.

   "Michael?" I ask the shadows.

   " Yeah, babe, it's me. how've you been?" He asked, coming from out of the darkness.

   "Why are you here?"

   " You didn't answer my question now, babe."

   " My name's not babe. It's Victoria so get out of my house, now."

   " Aw, babe, let's be nice about this."

   " Get out! Now!"

   Just then, a knock came a the door. Running to the door, I pulled it open to a very surprised Harry from the store this morning. His growing face suggested that he was not very happy right now.

   " Um, is there something you want, Styles?" I asked, trying not to sound too irritable.

   "Yeah actually. I was just coming to ask if you guys could keep it down a bit. All your bickering is giving me a massive headache. By the way, May I ask who you might be talking to?"

   I closed the door ever so slightly to try and eliminate most of his view to the inside of my apartment. But by the look in his eyes I could tell he knew that there was something I wasn't telling him. lifting his hand, he forcefully pushed the door away.

   " Who is this?" They asked in unison.

   " Who is this... this guy?" Michael asked with a bit of jealousy, sour in his words.

   " This guy? This guy!? Who in the hell do you think I am!? And who the hell are you!?" Harry was telling now.

   " Stop yelling at one another!" I screamed at them. "It's not helping the situation at all."

   " Well, will somebody explain the situation?" Harry asked quietly.

   "Michael, this is Harry. Harry this is Michael. Michael's my ex-boyfriend who's not supposed to even be here. And you. Why are you here at all anyway?"

   " Um... I... my condo happens to be right above your little apartment here and well, like I said, your bickering was giving me a headache," Harry explained.

   " Well that still doesn't explain who the hell you are!"

   " Michael! Please just shut up. Harry is part of well a band. A famous one at that."

   " Oh, I see. You're going for him because he's got money and fame. You don't want me because I don't. Well I'm sorry for not being able to provide for you now. Well I guess I will be leaving now, but trust me, I won't stay away forever."

   And with that he walked through the door leaving Harry and I in an awkward silence.

   " See what you've made me do?! I'll have to call him now and tell him what an ass you are!"

   " Well I guess I should be going now. And by the way, you're the ass. Not me."

   Harry left then, leaving me alone in the empty kitchen. I bent down and grabbed my cell from where I dropped it on the white tile and headed to my room.

   "God, I hate boys. So very much."

   I speed dialed Michael's number and waited. At about the fourth ring it went straight to voice mail. I tried again three more times but got no answer from either. Sighing, I climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up and over my head. Sometimes I wonder why I was chosen to put up with all this mess.