CYNICAL - harry styles

ONE

MILAN NOEL

All stories have a beginning, some just don't have an end.

Not the one you want, at least.

My story though, begins on a Saturday evening as I sat alone in my apartment.

I had been busy with myself all day, either using much of my free time doing the large amount of schoolwork that I had to finish by the end of the weekend, or cleaning the wreck I called a living space.

Nursing school was a lot of work, almost too much if you ask me. There was so much useless information that I had to cram into my brain, when I really should only be required to learn what I actually need to know.

My thoughts were cut short when I heard my phone began buzzing from where it sat at the coffee table, making me look up from where I had been writing. The caller ID quickly flashed, showing it was Ivy.

only this girl would call me on a Saturday afternoon while I was doing homework.

"Hello, my dearest friend, how could I be of service to you on such a lovely evening?" I answer in a horrid royalty accent, setting my pencil down where my phone once sat.

"Mila! Thank god you answered!" She sighed from the other end of the call, "I know that you don't like going out, and you don't like bars, but I really need a wingwoman tonight." Oh god, here we go.

"Why the hell do you, of all people, need a wingwoman? The only thing you are looking for is someone to fuck you. You certainly don't need me for that."

It wasn't a lie. Ivy was always a hit when we went out places, mostly because she was hot, and a whore (her words, not mine). She had bleach blonde hair along with crystal blue eyes, she had a good figure too; I would die for an ass like hers.

"I'm telling you Milan, one of these days one of my hookups is going to be with my soulmate. I can just feel it." I rolled my eyes at that, whoever says true love just takes a little liquid courage, is a fucking liar.

Her voice became a higher pitch as she rushed out all the reasons I should go clubbing with her, "I only need you to come out with me for a few hours, and I know you could use some alcohol in your system after all that studying you've been doing. Plus we haven't-"

"Jeez, vee, take a breath." I had to cut her off before her lips went blue, "I have some spare time, and I wouldn't mind some vodka. What time were you planning on going?"

"Um- so, here's the thing." I could recognize that anxious stuttering anywhere.

I throw my head back against the couch. "You're already here, aren't you?" She didn't even have to answer for me to know that she was already parked outside my apartment building.

I groan lightly, not having the stamina to speed get ready, "Give me five minutes, I'll be out there."

The prestige was not the type of club that two faultless girls wanted to stumble upon on a Saturday night. It was more the type of club you went to when you wanted to find a plethora of illegal street drugs.

Which was definitely not what Ivy and I had been searching for, but it looks like that's where we ended up anyway.

It simply looked like a classic bar, the exterior of the building was brick, and it had white Christmas lights going along the awning. There were also large LED signs that had the words "THE PRESTIGE" glowing in bright blue letters.

It's safe to say that in hindsight, we didn't really know quite what we were getting ourselves into when we decided to walk into the establishment. We were both way more worried about finding somewhere with cheap alcohol where we could drink our problems away.