Brooklyn's Pov
Do you ever get so fucking confused, that you just stand there frozen? Not even thinking? Just… still? Well that was me right now. I just stood there, watching him walking away with my mouth slightly open.
I arrive home and unpack all my groceries. I was seriously so pissed, and even worried about what my friends and family would think. I’ve never been in a satiation like this, where I’m actually the ‘talk of the city.’
I make myself a quick lunch and just think about how I was going to explain myself. How do I explain my hand resting on one of the richest bachelor’s crotch? Maybe I could say it slipped?
I turn my laptop on and search up ‘Harry Styles’ on news and the events from last night is the only thing that comes up. Some are good articles, a lot of bad ones. I just hope I don’t bump into him again, but a little part of me wants to, for some weird reason. I mean, I don’t hate him, we just annoys me… I guess.
The word he said to me comes to mind. Fate. What did that even mean? Well, I know what it means but what did he mean?
It couldn’t be one of those cliché ‘sole mate’ thing. I don’t think it is. I don’t even think I believe in the whole fate thing anyway, let alone him believing it. Plus, pretty sure he’s not the relationship time. We just happen to be at the same place, at the same time. It’s all coincidental.
I continue my search on Harry Styles. From what I’ve read, he gets around. I mean, yes, it’s pretty obvious, but wow. It’s strange for someone like him to be pretty chill about everyone knowing, though. I honestly don’t see how he does it. I use to be like that myself, but at least I’m not being publicised for my every move! Oh well, not my life, not my problem.
He’s also the youngest millionaire who’s actually earned his money. At only 25, he’s done pretty well for himself. I mean, I’m 23, a few months away from 24 and I don’t even have a steady future for myself. Too bad his personality sucks. He has franchises all around America, and is apparently spreading to the UK and Australia.
When I eventually get sick of reading about Harry Styles, I close my laptop and watch TV.
In the middle of The Walking Dead, my phone goes off. Just as I suspect, it’s from Emily. I pick up the phone and I don’t even have time to greet her, when she speaks up first.
“Brooke! What the fuck am I reading?” She questions.
“I wouldn’t know,” I reply sarcastically.
“An article about you and Harry Styles?” She explains. “It says here that you yelled at him, slapped him and that you gave him a hand job during my show! You know, they better not find out that you’re my sister, or else they might us this shit against me!” She adds.
I sigh, “look, I’m sorry but first off all, I did not give him a hand job! And second, it’s not the first time I bumped into him. He annoyed me.”
“Well Brooklyn, in this world, you can’t just go off yelling at people and slapping like him because he annoyed you. Do you even know who he is?”
“Yes I do. And clearly I don’t belong in whatever world you’re talking about. I don’t care who he is, you don’t know how he is to me.” I tell her.
“No Brooklyn, you don’t understand. He’s one of my friends believe it or not,” she says. What.
Did she forget to mention this to me or?
“Since when!?” I screech.
“You know my boyfriend Derek? He’s a good friend of Styles. Because of that, we’re friends.” She tells me.
“Boyfriend? When were you going to tell me?”
I can’t believe she’s never told me she was friends with Mr ‘Sex-Bomb,’ let alone have a boyfriend.
“Look, I’ll explain over dinner. It’s quite a long story, which I can’t explain over the phone. Just don’t tell dad, you know how he is with boys or anyone in this case,” she pleads.
“Fine. When and where?” I ask.
Emily pauses and I hear a voice in the background, but can’t tell who it is.
“Uhh, tonight at 7:00. Nothing too fancy, but wear something nice and casual. I’ll pick you up,” she says then hangs up.
-
I watch a bit more of The Walking Dead and when it was 6:00, I got changed. Alice still wasn’t home yet, so I had no one to really talk to about the whole thing.
I showered, put light make up on, straightened my hair and put on my black skinny jeans, a nice olive peplum top with a gold skinny belt and to top it off, a black blazer. I also wore thick black heals.
It was only 6:45 but Emily texted me, telling me she was downstairs. I spot her Audi and jump in the passenger seat.
She smiles at me and drives off. We make a light conversation but wait to talk about what we actually need to talk about, when we get to our venue, wherever we were going.
-
We arrive at some fancy apartment place. I look up at the building from the window in awe as Emily gives up to the drop of place. She stops the car and someone opens both our doors, letting us out. Emily walks over to where I am, hands the guy her keys and he gets him her car and drives off. She was wearing jeans and a collar top.
“Let’s go,” she smiles at me.
“Err, where are we?” I question.
She ignores me and presses the up button at the elevator. The door slides open revealing no one inside. We walk in and she swipes her card and presses level 45, which was the second highest level, right underneath the rooftop. I’m guessing it was the penthouse.
I had no idea she lived here. She’s never even told me! Who knows all the things she hasn’t mentioned. For a second, I was actually starting to wonder exactly how well I knew my sister, but I brushed it off. We were so close, there had to be an explanation.
We stand there in silence and wait for the doors to slide open. When it does, it reveals a beautiful luxury penthouse apartment. The first thing you see is the windows, surrounding the back of the penthouse, overlooking the beautiful city. It went all the way to the ceiling and had a balcony.
The place was beautifully decorated with some expensive things that I couldn’t even explain. It was very elegant and so spacious.
We step in and Emily places her shoulder bag on the white couch, and I followed. I could smell food as I took a look around. I looked at the kitchen that was visible from the lounge and saw an older lady cooking. It smelt amazing.
“Wow, how did you afford this? How come you never told me?” I question my sister, who was walking towards me.
“Maybe because this isn’t mine,” she replies.
I was just about to ask whose it was when someone walks in. Mr Styles. He wore the usual suit with a bow this time.
He walks towards us with a grin. “Hello, ladies. Thanks for bringing her, Emily…
Welcome, Brooklyn.”
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Hope you guys like it so far :) PLEASE vote and comment!
Penthouse on the side! Kinda imagine the penthouse like that but better I guess.
