Begin Again [Harry Styles Fanfic]

Cross My Heart

Warning: I lied about the sex. It's in the next chapter which will be uploaded later on tonight. Fucking whores. ((Hahaha, like literally too)).

I sat on the counter at The Big Apple, swinging my legs happily and smiling to myself, waiting patiently for more customers to come in. I'd been like this all day. Happy and patient. I even giggled once. I was scaring myself. I don't giggle often. And when I do I'm either drunk, lying, or about to ruin my entire life. It wasn't the first two so I clearly had to proceed with caution. 

"Who are you texting?!" Elana shouted from behind me. 

I screamed loudly and fell backwards and dropped my phone before crawling on all fours to retrieve it. I looked up only to find El standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. The problem with me being all giddy and girl-in-love was that I spaced out whenever I was thinking about a certain curly haired bitch. And, with me being the clumsy mofo that I was, it was becoming increasingly dangerous.

"Who are you texting?" Elana asked again this time crossing her arms.

"No one," I answered quickly as I stood up, shoving my phone in my pocket as deep as it could go. I know what you're thinking. Why won't I just tell her who I'm texting. The bitch don't need to know. Just like I don't need to know what happened with her and Ed yesterday and the day before and the day before that. Even if we were best friends, somethings just didn't need to be shared.

"It's Harry, isn't it?" She was following me around the coffeehouse as I cleaned up random things and straightened sugar packets. 

I sighed heavily and plopped down in a booth and checked my phone for the time. 11:36. Oh, how time does not fly when you're trying not to die. "Fine, I am texting Harry. He's supposed to be picking me up in ten minutes." She looked at me with raised eyebrows and a wide smile. What a creepy bitch. "He wants me to go to one of their interviews."

"Aren't you still performing tonight?" She asked as she sat down across from me. "Because, honestly, I could replace you if you want. Me being your main bitch and shit. It would sound terrible but I'd sacrifice our customers' ears for you to get laid."

Rolling my eyes, I laughed loudly. "You've seriously got to be joking right? Because it's not even noon yet and you've already got your mind in the gutter!"

She stared at me with one squinted eye and a raised eyebrow. "Damn," she whispered as pushed herself up from the booth. "You're in deep, bitch. Like my early Ricky Martin stage deep." 

I watched as they all took their seats around the preppy bleached bitch, Harry’s eyes zoning in on her inflatables. Little cunt couldn’t resist a rack, no matter how fake/small/stuffed they were. I was going to fucking kill him in his sleep. Liam was awkwardly sitting on the arm of the couch while the other four were squished together like sardines. Because, for some strange reason, the studio obviously didn’t expect there to be five of them. I will never get the logic in putting the five boys in a love seat….but I mean if I was in between….You should all already know by now.

The second the cameras turned on, I didn’t miss her pull down her shirt even further if that was possible. She flicked her hair back as she started on the usual round of questions, exposing her plastic boobs even more.  “So, who’s got a girlfriend?” Wow bitch, start with the most worse and uncomfortable and invasive one why don’t you. I hopped on of them popped. Fucking slutty ass hoebag.

Poor little Liam looked sad all the sudden, Niall looked like he didn’t give a shit, and Harry looked like all the pussy’s in the world had been kidnapped. That wasn’t original; yes I watched the adventures of One Direction. Who didn’t? But the point is, Harry was being a shitbitch.