✥Amnesia✥

Raven and Rouge

 “Holland! Holland!” I cough as I sit up, the smell of smoke still strong in my lungs. I take in the scene in front of me and realize I’m in Harry’s bed. The duvet shifts and I can feel Harry’s arm firmly around my shoulder as he props me up. The coughs calm down as I slowly sit up. I brush the scraggly strands of hair out of my face as I catch my breath. “Shit, you scared the hell out of me.” I furrow my eyebrows as I realize my cheeks are wet. Harry’s index finger slips under my chin so my head is lifted, using the pads of his thumbs to clear the moisture from my cheeks. I want to ask him what happened to his knuckles. They’re cracked and his lip is busted near the silver ring.

 “Sorry.” I cough again. My eyes are still heavy as I struggle to stay awake. I almost slouch over as I sit up. His hands wrap around my waist scooting me closer to him. He presses a light kiss to my temple as I lay down and nuzzle my head in his neck. He strokes my hair back as I trace the tattoos on his chest before drifting to sleep again.

 “So you’re Harry Style’s new girl.” A dark haired girl laughs as she sits beside me in the coffee shop. I watch her in astonishment as she plops down, russet eyes observing me as I sit by myself, tea in hand. I uncomfortably shift on the red couch.

 “Uhm…” I unsurely begin as I hold my coffee. I notice the green apron she folds up, tucking it behind the couch pillow.

“I’m Raven.” She extends a manicured hand, painted with jet black nail polish. I shake her hand before allowing mine to drop.

 “Hollie.” I unsurely smile as I take a sip of my drink. I straighten out my sweater, shifting so I’m facing her.

 “Well if it isn’t Miss.Virgin Mary herself.” I roll my eyes at the snide comment as I lower my head. I know that voice. I turn to find Chanel standing behind us. Her sunglasses are clipped onto her already low cut v-shirt. “What are you doing here? Already tossed out by Harry?” She smirks. It takes all I have not to comment on the exposed red fabric of her bra.

 “Actually, buying coffee.” I lift up the to-go cup. “You know, from the coffee shop we’re in.” I motion around us in mock amazement. Her icy glare falls on me again, gray eyes studying me as if looking for something to comment on. “You can leave.” I remind her. “You know, like how Harry left you.” I don’t mean to lower to her level, but I don’t want to wait for something bad to happen. Her eyes flicker behind me for a second and she makes some sort of expression I can’t place.

 “Oh, just wait.” She cackles as she holds her cup in hand. Her focus is solely on me again. “I’m not the only person he’s shagged and stranded.” Her eyes roam over me for a moment. “You know, I’m almost sorry………almost.” She glances around before bending down to my level.  “You are a pretty girl.” Her sharpened nails dig in to my chin. “But so naïve.” She laughs before releasing me.

 The bell above the door chimes again as she exits.

 I turn my attention back to Raven as she sits on her phone, my phone. Wait, my phone?

 “RAVEN.” I snatch the phone out of her hand as she scrolls through my messages. “You can’t just go through peoples’ phones.” I roll my eyes as I sit up, tucking it into my back pocket.

 “It’s not like you had anything interesting anyways.” She comments, eyes watching the window outside. “At least, nothing more interesting than your confrontation with the she-devil herself.”

 “I take it you know her?” I speak louder as I cross the living room set-up, tossing my cup in the trash.

 “You just met the bitch who tortured me all through secondary school.” She stands from the couch, nodding towards the front door. I understand her notion and follow her outside, thankful that for once it’s not raining. “Chanel used to be my best friend –don’t laugh- and we used to play together all through primary school. Our moms were best friends so we just kind of- were.” We both side step a massive puddle.

 “You were close?”

“Really close.” She nods, eyes meeting mine for a brief second.

 “So-her being with Har-“

  “Shhhh.” She eyes me for a moment. “I’m getting to that.” She quickly adds. “Anyways she kissed her first boy during our first year of secondary. Everything: The partying. The not appearing for days at a time, the promiscuity-kind of just escalated from there.” She shrugs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. It’s an odd way to start, but I know better than to interrupt. “We hung out less and less, she started seeing boys more and more. In..” Her eyes scan the street before us as she finds the words. We wait on the crosswalk. “During her fourth year, she would hang out with older guys. They-“ We begin across the street. “They would get her really drunk and-“ She goes silent for a moment. The buzz of the London sidewalk stills to hums. “A lot of rumors of what happened spread around. I guess she just stopped caring. About everything.” Another short silence falls between us. “She met Harry a few months ago and I think he reminded her of those times. She was at a club one night and they were both drunk so…” She shrugs again, seemingly not sure of what to say.“I guess that’s why she is the way she is. We haven’t talked in a few years.” She admits.

  “What actually happened? That night you’re talking about.” I specify as we waltz into what seems to be a hotel of some sorts. She leads the way in the lobby. We find our way to an olive colored couch. God, I hate olives. They’re everything that’s wrong with this world.

 “All through school people had been raving for weeks about this party going on at the house of Mark Vanderwall. He was that guy in school. The one everyone admires and has complete control over the school. And he knows it too.” We sit down. “Well, Chanel had this huge crush on him for God knows how long. He was always at those parties where she was drunk. This was the night she was waiting for.” She narrates, crossing her legs. “She slept with him…and then he slept with half the student body.” I bite my lip as I try not to think of how heartbroken she must’ve been. “At those other parties she was used to casual encounters, but he was different to her.” I nod. “Like how she thought Harry was different.”

 “If you haven’t spoken to her in so long, how do you know all of this?” A clever, little smile lights up her face.

 “Do you know Roxy?” I shake my head at the unfamiliar name. “The girl with pink hair.” She laughs. I must’ve looked confused earlier as she nods. “That’s my sister. Zayn calls us Raven and Rouge.” She pretends to secretly inform with a lowered voice.

 I laugh at the silly nickname.

 “Of course.”

 “Hey, I have to go.” She laughs, glancing at the open elevator. “But stop by the shop another time.” She requests, standing from the sofa.

  “You live here?” I cringe at the stupid question.

 “Yeah.” She nods. “With Rouge.” She mocks the nickname. “But I have to go, I’ll see you around, okay?”

 “Yeah.” I nod.