Story cover for What If We Are The Music [h.s] by Millypreller
What If We Are The Music [h.s]
  • WpView
    Reads 405
  • WpVote
    Votes 32
  • WpPart
    Parts 14
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 19m
  • WpView
    Reads 405
  • WpVote
    Votes 32
  • WpPart
    Parts 14
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 19m
Ongoing, First published Jan 13, 2021
"H-hi Mr.Styles," she said which made me cringe a little by the fact that she called me Mr.Styles.

"Hi Lia," I said and I see the man she was talking to walk through a door at the side of the bar

"Sorry for calling you Mr it's just that the guy who just walked away is my boss and I just wanted to look a bit more professional," she said with a small smile on her face.

"Oh I was wondering if you forgot my first name already"

"I could never forget a name and face like yours," she said back which made me blush a little bit

"Well thanks, you're not so bad yourself"

"Thanks, Styles"

"It's the truth"

"Is that so?"

"Yup," I said with a goofy smile on my face making her laugh a bit. She had a pretty laugh

"Good to know," she said giggling a little bit while nodding her head "Well anyways can I get you anything?"

"Some Wine"

"Red?" 

"Please,"


...............
This is a fictional story none of this has happened. It is purely fictional
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"Yeah, well... I'm starting to think I got stood up." The bartender clicks his tongue, setting his towel down with a slow shake of his head. "Fucking tragic. Can't say I understand it. If I had a date with you, I'd be here an hour early, dressed to fucking impress, already working out ways to keep you entertained all night." I raise an eyebrow, half-smirking. "Smooth." "Don't flatter me yet, love. That was just the warm-up." He nods toward my half-finished wine. "Tell you what-since your bloke's clearly an idiot, this one's on the house." I blink. "Seriously?" He shrugs, like it costs him absolutely nothing. "What can I say? I've got a soft spot for beautiful people with shit luck." His smirk deepens. "Also, it's good fucking business. You stay longer, you order more, and I get to look like the hero. Everyone wins." I shake my head, laughing as he pours me another glass with the kind of effortless confidence that suggests he's done this a thousand times before-offered a pretty girl a free drink, flashed a dangerous grin, made her night a little less shit. He slides the glass toward me. "Louis, by the way." "Bee," I say, taking a sip.