YOUNGBLOOD » HARRY STYLES

8

I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed once I realised we were nearing Brighton beach again. We had spent the entire car ride singing along to Harry's playlists made up of the best rock songs and laughing at other people who pointed at his car in awe. Clyde stayed quiet as he sat in the back with Arlon, who eventually stopped panting from the heat and laid down next to him whilst snoring gently. I could've sworn I saw Clyde smile down at Arlon once when I looked at them through the rear view mirror, but the look was gone by the time I blinked.

"Should I drop you off at your place?" Harry asked whilst one of the last songs faded out slowly, leaving the three of us to sit in a slightly awkward silence. He had been happily singing along like the talented singer he is but nevertheless stayed humble about it. He didn't even judge me when I began to sang along to the songs I knew, even if my singing voice was nowhere near as good as his. From time to time he'd look over at me with a devious smile when I went off-key on purpose and then we'd all laugh about it. Even Clyde chuckled in the seat behind mine.

"Actually, could you drop me off a few streets before mine? I want to go visit a friend," I replied. I had already mapped out exactly how to get there and how I'd get home afterwards and if my calculations were accurate, I'd be able to get Arlon home on time and walk back to my own place before dusk.

"Is it Heather?" He pondered as he turned onto the road that drives straight down to the channel. The sun was already lowering at a steady pace, threatening me to hurry.

"No, someone else,"

"Okay. You know, maybe I could sign something so you can give it to her." He offered whilst reaching down into his door to fish something out. He then sat back up, twiddling with a Sharpie pen in between his fingers.

I sighed because I knew how happy Heather would be with his signature but I also knew she'd be suspicious about it. I couldn't just tell her I ordered it offline because–being the fangirl that she is–she'd be the first to know if anything autographed by her idol was put up for sale online. "How would I explain that, Harry?"

Harry's chest deflated as he sighed and pressed his lips together to form a fine line. He reached back down again to put the pen away. "You're right."

I stayed quiet for a moment. Then the corner of my mouth turned up into a smile. "Wait, do you seriously just have a Sharpie on hand wherever you go?" I laughed.

Harry chuckled at my question. "Well–"

"Finally you realise how big his ego is." Clyde retorted from behind us, and I turned around in my seat to give him a high five. He seemed reluctant at first whilst he eyed me skeptically with his narrowed, deep brown eyes but then he smacked his hand against mine, clearly amused when Harry said 'hey!' in protest.

When I turned back around I realised we were nearly there. "Harry, take a left here!" I said a mere second before it was too late. The tires screeched on the road as Harry spun the wheel around just in time. I reached out to hold onto the handle above the door and kept my eyes squeezed shut to brace myself for an impact.

"Could've said that a bit earlier," Clyde chuckled once we were driving safely again.

"That was fun!" Harry laughed.

"I nearly had a heart attack." I stated with my hand on my chest.

"You mean you nearly gave yourself a heart attack. That was your fault." Clyde replied.

"I stand corrected." I smiled. I finally felt like I was getting to know Clyde a little better and that he was finally starting to see me as one of Harry's friends rather than just another fan.

–

The leather seats in the car squeaked as I stepped out. Harry stood on the other side of the car on the pavement with Arlon's leash in his hands. "Thanks for dropping me off," I told him.

"No problem," He said and leaned down to wrap his arms around my waist and push me closer to him. The curls of his hair tickled my temple as he brushed past to stand up straight again. I waited patiently whilst he sat back down in his car and rolled down the window (it was one of those old-fashioned manual ones so it took a while). "Well, see you soon." He said and tapped the steering wheel once. "Good luck with school."

I smiled and waved and before I knew it, I was standing alone in front of Alfie's flat building. I spun around to look up at it and brushed off my t-shirt to collect myself before walking up the stairs. I knew the code to open the building's entry doors by heart because I'd been here countless of times to pick up Heather. The doors buzzed before I opened them and they locked again behind me. I kept Arlon close to me because (not going to lie) I felt securer that way.

The inside of the building looked dusty and it was stripped of its holiday decorations. Dead flies lined the floors of the corridor which made it seem like the cleaning staff hadn't been here in weeks, or maybe even months, which made me question why there were two people dressed as the cleaning staff standing in front of the door to Alfie's flat. One of them held a key between her fingers and was clearly attempting to get in, whilst the man behind her was keeping watch. Both of them were dressed in the same uniform: a formal beige button down shirt, and the woman was wearing a matching beige skirt whilst the man wore matching beige trousers.

"Oh, hello." I said and gave both of them a warm smile when they saw me walk in. They both stood up straight, the woman holding the key behind her back straight away.

"Good afternoon," The man nodded politely, also holding his arms behind his back.

"He hasn't been home in a while, has he?" I nodded towards Alfie's front door. Neither of them responded; they only gave me a tongue-tied look. "I find it strange, too. Anyways, do you have the time?" I asked the man.

He lifted his arm up straight away to look at his watch. His button down shirt moved up with the movement of his arm, revealing just enough for me to see he was hiding a gun in the rim of his trousers.

Clearly not part of the cleaning staff.

"Do you live nearby?" The woman asked. It was very obvious she was trying to keep her cool.

"My flat is three floors up." I explained and nodded at the stairs. Whilst I did, I could see the security camera hanging in a top corner, its blinking green light telling me it was recording.

"I don't recall dogs being allowed in the building." The woman said and eyed Arlon.

"That's strange. We've been here for three years. How else would I know Mr. Alfie Sunners?" I shrugged. She was making this too easy. 

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