C'mon C'mon

Harry’s eyes fell on the glass that was overflowing with an orange liquid. He agreed on go clubbing tonight with the boys, but it seemed like they were having much more fun than actually he was.

They insisted that he had to go out from his flat. He hadn’t seen proper daylight since Vanessa broke up with him.

Vanessa was a friend of his for ages. They went to kindergarten together; they were in the same class in elementary and high school as well. Then, Harry had received positive criticism on his singing and tried out for X Factor. Who would expect that this boy from a little town called Holmes Chapel would make it so far? Nobody.

Some events happened and Harry ended up dating Vanessa. After the faux pas with Caroline Flack, everyone thought he had a thing only for older women, but he begged to differ. So when he started going out with Vanessa, or Nessa, how he used to call her all the time, it was a big and juicy topic to talk about. The media were analyzing every strand of her hair, they were pointing out her smoking habit and they even said that Vanessa made him smoke as well.

The endless amount of rumours had been unbearable for both sides. The couple was constantly fighting, they called each other really bad names and as if it wasn’t enough, they had fought. The glass shards from a not-longer existing mirror could be still found in the deepest corners of every room although Harry tried to clean up the mess after a couple of hours.

Vanessa was simply a rebel. When somebody told her to do something, she would either ignore the prompt or do the complete opposite. She never did as she was told to. People told her to ignore those hurtful rumours but then one day, Harry arrived into an empty flat. All that was left was a note on a Post-It paper, glued to the refrigerator. Harry could still recite the text that was written on the paper with her cursive handwriting that looked as she had been in a rush.

Harry, I can’t take it anymore. I’m sorry but I suppose this is the end. And it’s the end not only of our relationship but a friendship as well. We no longer know each other.

- Vanessa

Harry was completely and utterly gutted. He couldn’t do anything. If he tried to find Vanessa, she would call him an arsehole and tell him to fuck off. So instead of being a man, he locked himself in his room for weeks and ignored the manhood.

Shaking off the thoughts of his head, he reached for the little liqueur-glass and poured the orange liquid into his body. Its taste was sweet yet it felt he had burnt his throat. Placing the shot back on the table, he sunk in the too soft sofa and looked on the dance floor.

The sight made him sigh. Everybody including his band mates seemed to have the time of their lives. The loud drum-and-bass music was blasting through the massive speakers. Dancers’ bodies were sweaty form dancing and enjoying the fun in the club.

Harry was about to frown, fall into depression once again and stand up from the couch, ready to leave, when he spotted her.

She had a pin straight strawberry blonde hair that tickled the part of her body right above her elbows. She was moving to the rhythm swiftly, he hips swaying from side to side. The tight black dress hugged her curves incredibly; it showed the best of her curvaceous figure. She wasn’t chunky at all but she wasn’t skinny as well. She was right Harry’s type.

Having the inner battle with himself, not knowing if he should go and ask her for a dance, he focused on the reality. Why the hell was he so insecure right now? For Godsakes, he was Harry Styles. There was absolutely no chance that the girl would reject him. His ego wouldn’t be hurt anymore.

Standing up, he made his way toward the mysterious dancing goddess through the sweaty bodies.

“Hey,” he tapped her shoulder slightly, electricity rushing down his body with that touch. The girl spun around, his long blonde hair waving around her like a waterfall.

“Yeah?” she smiled at him innocently.

“Wanna dance with me?” he leant in closer to her, speaking into her ear. The music seemed to turn up with each of his words and ear-talking was needed when holding a proper conversation.

“No.”

The girl’s immediate and hesitation-less reaction made Harry’s eyes widen in shock. The blonde lass opened her mouth and screamed at the lad, not because she would be mad at him, but the music was already making her ears explode.

“I know who you are, Harry. I know what a type of guy you are. Sleep with ‘em and leave ‘em, no feelings allowed. If I said yes, you would have danced with me and then asked me if I didn’t want to go home with you and I’d say yes. You would simply throw me in your bed and then, after doing your business, you would forget about me. Simply as that, huh?” The girl smirked victoriously at him, knowing that she might be right about him.

“I didn’t want to sleep with you, really. I just wanted to dance with you,” he shrugged his shoulder, telling the truth. In other cases, the girl would be right about him. He was the type of ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’, the girls being his one night stand without even knowing their names. But somehow, this girl made him feel different.

“Just tell me your name,” he smiled, trying for one last time. The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his wrist, dragging him on the dance floor.

“Evelyn,” she introduced herself.

Evelyn. Harry was sure he would remember that name forever.