eighteen

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**Diamonds are a girl's best friend,
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
I don't need you, I got flooded out baguettes
I don't need you, all my diamonds drippin' wet**

**Diamonds are a girl's best friend,Diamonds are a girl's best friendI don't need you, I got flooded out baguettesI don't need you, all my diamonds drippin' wet**

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ISABELLA

There are many things that I never planned on doing.

I never planned on moving to New York. I never planned on becoming a stripper, even though I should've known my job prospects would be pretty slim seeing as I was a young girl with no money when I first moved here, but that's besides the point. I never planned on being on the brink of homelessness, and having to move into the spare room of a lower east side apartment with a homicide detective as a roommate. And I definitely never planned on grinding on, let alone kissing, that detective roommate in the middle of a packed dancefloor on a random Friday night.

To be fair, though, I don't think Harry planned on kissing me either - especially if his shocked expression once we finally pulled apart was any indication. It was pretty clear that neither of us intended for things to progress so far; it was simply a mistake fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol, sultry music thumping through the club, and a build up of sexual tension. In hindsight, I probably should've just stayed there so both of us could've laughed it off together and prevented the inevitable awkwardness that will exist between us now, but instead, I ran off to hide in the girls toilets like a scared child. Which is where I stayed until Tina eventually found me and we both stumbled into a cab back to the apartment at around four in the morning.

As I rub my tired eyes, probably smearing last night's leftover makeup, I glance down at Tina who's still sleeping beside me, smiling at the fact that she made sure to put her wig cap on before bed even though she was completely out of it. I obviously was too, judging by the fact that my head is now absolutely pounding and I have that gross metallic taste in my mouth that always accompanies a hangover. With a yawn, I shove off the covers and slip out of bed, my eyes squinting with the daylight as I make my way out of my bedroom and over to the bathroom. After ferociously scrubbing my teeth with my toothbrush to get rid of the awful taste, I wipe my face clean and then quickly run a brush through my hair, scraping half of it back into a ponytail before turning to leave the bathroom.

As soon as I open the door, I almost crash straight into Harry's chest, which just so happens to be missing a shirt, leaving his tanned abs and tattoos on full display. After jumping back from him, my eyes quickly flit away from his chest and up to his face, which carries the same faint look of surprise that I'm sure is also on mine. "Oh, hey! Morning," I say quickly, my words jumbling together as I attempt to fill the already awkward silence.

"Morning," he replies, his voice low and raspy from having just woken up. Along with his deep voice, his dishevelled hair and sleepy, narrowed eyes are also an indication that he just got out of bed. I have to discard the thought that he looks quite cute before it can fully cement itself in my mind, no longer allowing myself to think, or notice, things like that. Harry's eyes remain on mine as we both stand there in the doorway, but when I still don't move after a few seconds, he clears his throat and quietly murmurs, "Uh, can I just get past...."

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