*Your POV*
“Hands on the car, Mr. Styles.”
A groan left the curly haired boys lips as the officer slammed him up against the side of his police car with his hands held behind his back. More people started crowding around the parking lot wanting to get a better look at all the commotion that was going on.
Tears fell down my cheeks as I hugged Harry’s jacket tighter around my barely covered body. The only sounds that could be heard were the sirens coming from the police car and the ambulance along with the loud music still playing in the club. This was never supposed to happen. I never meant for anything to go this wrong.
“Ma’am, we’re going to need to take you with us for questioning.”
I didn’t know he was talking to me until a hand placed itself on my shoulder making me flinch away.
“Did you hear me, Miss?” I nodded my head not daring to take my eyes off of Harry as they shoved him into the back seat of the vehicle. I ran over to him before they could close the door but an officer grabbed me before I could get to him.
“H-Harry…” I whimpered feeling myself cry harder now.
“Don’t worry, baby, everything will be okay, alright? Just tell them happened and everything will be okay.”
I covered my mouth with my hand seeing the blood on his shirt. He did it; there was no doubting that, but it wasn’t like that.
The officer slammed the door shut and another escorted me to another car handing me my bag with my clothes in it.
How did this happen?
*Six Months Ago*
I sighed throwing the opened envelopes down angrily onto the kitchen counter before burying my head into my hands. This isn’t the first notification I’ve received from them either.
FINAL NOTICE
PAST DUE
EJECTION
The words were hitting me like a slap in the face. It was a struggle to pay for groceries for the week let alone pay a five hundred dollar rent by next Wednesday and continue paying off the student loans. This wasn’t just typical college struggles anymore. This was a matter of whether or not I’d be sleeping on the streets or illegally in my friend’s dorm on campus. The scholarship only paid for so much and I needed to be at this school. There’s no way I could drop out at this point; I’ve come too far and worked too hard to quit because of this. But what could I do?
“Holy shit, (Y/N)” Charlotte gasped looking at the notices. “I thought I was doing badly.”
I signed grabbing it from her and crumbling it into a ball before throwing it onto the floor. “Yeah, I get that, Char.”
“I thought you paid this last week?” she asked.
I shook my head explaining to her that I lost the money after getting fired from my job thanks to some asshole complaining about me because I wasn’t interested in his provocative advances. My parents couldn’t get me the money either; they had their own problems and were still pissed I chose to go to school so far away leaving me to pay for whatever the scholarship didn’t.
“Well, I’ve gotta get to work soon” she said hopping off the stool and grabbing her pink, rhinestone duffle bag. “My offer still stands ya know” she added. “I showed my boss that video of you dancing and he thinks you’d do great.”
Charlotte does relatively well on her own because of her ‘job’ and she’s been trying to talk me into working with her lately since you’ve been struggling so much. Yeah, she’s a stripper. It’s not some trashy place; it’s actually one of the highest end one’s in London. The pay is good, they let you keep the lingerie, and the guys, according to her, are mostly our age instead of the nasty, bored middle aged men like most. It’s just not something I think I’d be comfortable doing.
