When Harry Met Luna

On the way home from work later that evening, alI I fantasized about was drawing a hot bath, changing into the slouchiest sweatpants I could find and watching a movie on Netflix. And maybe ordering a large cheese pizza.

Let’s make that an extra large cheese pizza. Oh God yes.

I ended up taking a taxi back to the penthouse because both my Father and Roger were still held in Harlow for the majority of the afternoon and evening. I considered taking the tube since it was cheaper but taking a taxi meant less walking and more sitting which sounded a-okay in my books.

When we stopped outside my apartment building, I handed the taxi drive a couple of quid, thanked him and climbed out of the backseat. It was only ten minutes past 8pm, making the sky a beautiful sapphire hue and the air quality vastly cooler. Summer nights in London were something I had missed dearly when living back in Los Angeles for the past two years. California, in general, has an entirely different feeling in the summer. You were either at a tequila bar with a group of friends or at a beach party with a bonfire close by. In London, it was all about meeting your mates at the pub, going to underground concerts or huge outside festivals and getting lost in Harrods if one was extremely bored.

The minute I let myself into the apartment, I immediately kicked off my ballet flats and dropped my satchel onto the floor. I felt icky from all the bitch work Janet forced me into doing - I just spent the last three hours at The Dorchester Hotel, stringing up fairy lights on the rooftop and an additional two hours just stuffing goodie bags for the guest - and I still somehow smelled like the old chocolate milkshake from my previous encounter with Harry. I was seriously fucking ready for a bath.

Just as I was about to turn the corner to run up the stairs, I found Beth sitting at the dining room table adjacent to the kitchen with a bunch of folders, newspaper clippings and magazines sprawled out in front of her.

Wedding magazines, to be precise.

“Hiya! I thought I heard you come in!” Beth looked up from where she was sitting and offered a smile. I had to admit, she looked model-perfect. Her straight blonde locks were tied back into a tight pony-tail and even had a pair of reading glasses sitting on the brim of her perfectly pointed nose.

“Yep, it’s me.” I stated with a shrug. “Is my dad home?”

“Nah, not yet. He should be home soon though.” She picked up the steaming hot cup of twa sitting in front of her and sipped it. “How was work?”

You know, I kinda felt bad. Even though I was extremely against the idea of Beth marrying my dad (or just being in our lives, altogether), she has tried consistently to become my friend. Last Friday, she asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with her in our personal movie theatre down the hall but I lied and told her I had a headache. The following morning she then asked me if I wanted to get my nails done with her but I politely declined, having made other lunch arrangements with Mallory (which was another lie because I actually just wanted to sleep in and watch The OC marathon on tv). She even went to the extent of inviting me out to a dinner with her friends to have “gal time” but since I would rather eat cat shit, I declined her offer. I was being a total bitch, and we both knew it, but it was obvious to me that she was bent on trying to make it work.

“Work was fine, I guess.” I responded truthfully -for once- as I leaned against the top of the chair opposite of her. “I spent the majority of today setting up for the 360 event at The Dorchester.”

“Oh yes!” Beth was visibly excited to hear about this, probably because I was holding a conversation with her for longer than two seconds. “Can’t wait for that tomorrow. I heard John Mayer will be in attendance. Love him.”

“Yeah, he’s a pretty cool guy.” It came out sarcastically but I don’t think she caught it because she was still grinning like a fool at me. I pointed my chin in the direction of the mess of magazines and folders on the table. “What’s all this?”

“Oh!” She jumped back slightly to get a better look at her stuff too. “Just wedding stuff. Your father and I just hired a wedding planner so we’re finally making some headway. Speaking of, I actually wanted to ask you something before he comes home...”

She pulled the glasses off her face and placed them on top of her magazine before folding her hands neatly in front of her and sitting up straight. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long but I was wondering if you’d like to be apart of the wedding with me and your father.”

“Part of the wedding?” I repeated.

Beth nodded. “Yeah, like a bridesmaid!”

“Oh.” I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t consider being a bridesmaid at my fathers wedding. Like, at all.

“I mean, you won’t be the only bridesmaid of course!” She added, probably nervous by the lack of excitement I was showing about taking on the role of a bridesmaid for a woman I didn’t even like to begin with. “My best friend will be my maid of honor, as well as my sister and cousin being bridesmaids too. They’re an absolute laugh, trust me.”

“Umm..” I really wanted to say no. The last thing I wanted to do was stand in some dumb dress holding a dumb bouquet in front of hundreds of dumb people in a dumb church. I would much rather wear all black and sit in the second row next to my grandparents who will probably end up falling asleep halfway through the ceremony anyways.

“I promise the dresses won’t be completely hideous!” Her eyes, all big and round and puppy-like, were desperately pleading me for the answer she wanted to hear. She made me feel like if I say no, I would ruin the whole wedding.

So, keeping my dad’s welfare and his extremely hot tempered personality in mind, I said yes.

“Wonderful!” Beth clapped her hands together with satisfaction. “Just wonderful.”

She looked pleased with herself, so pleased in fact that I started to regret my decision. I wasn’t entirely sure what I just signed myself up for.

Luckily for her before I could take back my answer, my dad walked in the front door.

“I need a fuckin’ drink.” He announced, already ripping his jacket off and had already started the process of rolling up his sleeves by the time he reached the kitchen and dining room.

“Shall I fix you a cuppa?” Beth asked my dad in a sickly sweet voice. I held back from puking on her wedding magazines.

“No, I need a drink” He walked over to the bar by the living room that held all of his alcohol. Out of everything he’s invested in this penthouse, it was his mini bar area he cherished the most. The bar was made out of high-quality black marble with a rose gold finish to the surface. It held some of the most expensive alcohols in the world. If this place was set on fire, I was so sure he would grab his Burnett’s Vodka or the 80 year old whiskey that was sitting on the top shelf.

He grabbed the usual scotch and a crystal clear glass. Before he poured it, he pointed to me. “And you. You’re in trouble.”

“Me!?” I gave him an absurd look. “What did I do!?”

“You and Harry Styles.” He dropped two pieces of ice into the glass and poured scotch over it. “Aren’t happening. You hear me?”

“What!” I shrieked.

“Wow Luna! Harry Styles? Go you!” Beth gasped loudly, wearing a shocked expression on her face. “He’s a looker.”

“Don’t encourage it, Beth.” My dad shook his head. “It is not happening.”

“Seriously, Dad?” I started laughing. “I am not interested in Harry like that. Relax, will ya? We’re just pals.”

“Pals.” My dad repeated the word with a look of his disgust on his face. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Oh my God.” I threw my head back and groaned. “I am not doing this right now. I’m taking a bath.”

“I mean it, Luna!” My dad called after me as I started up the stairs. “You’re staying single for the next twenty years!”

“Jack! Quit your nonsense.” I could hear Beth playfully scolding my dad but I chose to ignore it. I know she was purposely taking my side because she didn’t want to ruin the bonding experience we just had ten minutes ago.

I couldn’t believe my dad. He had the audacity to tell me who I can or cannot date? Are you kidding me? Get real. My dad has always been controlling and strict when it came to rules but that was when I was younger and more naive. I’m twenty years old now. I don’t know why it bothered him so much that I could be friends with males. I don’t know why he believed the stupid myth that goes on about the whole ‘guys can never be friends with girls’ thing. It was stupid and completely untrue.

When I finally got to my room, I ditched the idea of taking a bath and opted for a quick shower instead. I was too lazy and exhausted at this point to put enough effort into making a bubble bath.

After lingering in the shower longer than I intended, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. The idea of falling into my incredibly warm and comfy bed was practically making me lightheaded at this point. I dried my hair as quickly as possible before running back into my bedroom and changing into an old grey tshirt and sweatpants.

The minute my body hit that mattress, let me tell you, I was in heaven.

I sighed heavily with delight while pulling my laptop over my stomach. I figured a little check of the social media sites would be a good way to end the night.

Man, that was a big mistake on my part.

The minute I clicked on the facebook link, it was the first thing that showed up on my newsfeed.

A whole album of tagged pictures of Derek and his new stupid girlfriend.

Curiosity and anger got the best of me, so I clicked through the album, which was an even bigger mistake. There were pictures of them on the beach, him jokingly holding her bridal style over the waves, threatening to throw her in. My heart stopped. It was something he always did with me when we went to the beach together. There were more pictures of just Derek sitting opposite of the camera with a huge smile and a large iced coffee in hand, which I’m assuming this new broad took since the pictures were described as “my boo looking cute with his coffee hehe”.

This was killing me. I was so angry and hurt by how quickly and easy it was for Derek to be so open about his new relationship. It hurt even more knowing he was clearly happy with this girl. So happy in fact that he clearly didn’t even consider how I would feel if I saw these pictures of him online.

I abruptly slammed my laptop shut and threw it to the other side of the bed.

I was apparently wide awake now and seething because before I knew it, I ripped the duvet cover back and I was pacing the length of my bedroom, back and forth, with my fists clenched and my left eye twitching.

I am intensely livid with what I just saw. I want to ring Derek Hunter’s neck with my bare hands and smother his dumb new girlfriend with a pillow in her sleep. I am so willing to jump on the next flight to LA just to inflict excruciating pain on both of them.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and clicked through my phone book until I got to Mallory’s number.

She answered on the third ring. “Wassup!”

“What are you doing?” I asked a little too aggressively. “I need to get fucking drunk. Right now.”

I was met with silence for just a couple of seconds before she replied.

“Be ready in fifteen.”