𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓! | harry styles

𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄

Evelyn

WALKING past the cloudy windows, I keep my head straight until the last minute, hoping I look like someone just passing by, an ordinary girl on the street glancing quickly at the crowd assembled inside the aged, comfortable bar. I've tried this a few times now, each time catching a teasing glimpse, not the long moment I'm hoping for. Someone is bound to see me making a fool of myself, but I'm too caught up in my goal to care.

But now, I think I see him carrying cases of beer, but I can't be sure without stopping at those dirty windows and pressing my face up against them like a child looking at all the candy inside they can't have.

Turning away, head down, I tell myself that tomorrow is the day I'll go in.

It's the third day I've told myself that.

The small studio apartment the producers of the play put me in holds one other girl, both of us in bit parts but excited to finally have a role in a real acting gig. My stuff is still loaded into my two suitcases even though I got here first, giving Delilah her first choice of bed and first choice of the drawers in the one dresser. I said nothing when she used all four, not wanting to make waves with someone I might be living with for a while and possibly becoming friendly with.

Although the fact that she doesn't realize she's tripping over my full suitcase every time she goes to the bathroom doesn't make her seem like the kind of person I'd want to get close to.

I've been that girl and I've tried hard to never be her again.

"Yes, Mom, I'm eating plenty. Don't worry." My cell phone is on its last leg, but I don't plug it in, the fact it'll cut off at any moment giving me a great excuse to be done with her.

"Have you decided if you'll be attending your father's wedding to that hussy?"

My eyes roll, looking at the blinking bar on my phone to rescue me. "I don't think I can. It's right in the middle of previews, and I'm really in no position to take off for two days."

Silence follows, then the unmistakable sound of ice clinking in glass. I look at my watch, a 21st birthday gift to myself, and see it's Martini O'thirty. "I don't know what it is about older men needing a young piece of ass on their arm to make them feel like God's gift."

I rise to stand in the small fire escape, the rusted black bars shaking as I steady myself. "I have to go."

"Now you know I didn't mean you in that sentence. Don't get so dramatic."

"Yes, you did. But it's fine," I say, not wanting another argument. She never means me, and it's always fine.

I listen to her slurp, then her sigh of satisfaction. "Did I tell you that..." and blissfully, my phone dies. I'm tempted to throw it over the railing into the big, smelly dumpster five flights down.

Instead, I climb into my window and grab my charger, plugging it into the outlet in the tiny kitchen. Leaning against the broken cupboard, I wait a few moments to give it some life, before dialing my father's office.

"Castillo's Prestige Appliances, this is Andrea speaking, how may I help you today?"

"Hey, Andrea. It's Evelyn."

There's the familiar hesitation, then she answers. "Oh hi, Evelyn. Your father isn't here."

Of course he's not. "Will you leave a message that I called again? I really want to talk to him before the wedding."

"I'll let him know. I'm not sure what time he'll be back."

"I'll try his cell."

"Okay, bye Evelyn."