The Love Club

Lex Parker had to live in Brixton.

Not that there was anything wrong with Brixton. There certainly wasn’t any gang activity, unless you counted the PDC’s colonizing in the complex down the street. It wasn’t as though a 15-year-old boy had been stabbed to death on Loughborough Estate the year before. And it definitely wasn’t possible for Lex to hear her neighbors breaking plates in anger against their floor, her ceiling.

“It really isn’t that bad,” she insisted to her best friend, Grace, that fateful Saturday, as they were forced through a symphony of squealing bed springs from the flat above them. Seems the neighbors weren’t fighting for once.

“I wish you would stop saying that,” Grace sighed, strapping her feet into a pair of ridiculously high heels she picked up on super-sale at Karen Millen for a tenner. “You had to call the police on them last week.”

“Just as a precaution!” Lex cried in defense. “I think he really does love her. Just listen.”

If there was one thing that Lex hated, it was a lecture – especially from Grace Brooksworth. Grace lived in a just-as-shabby apartment in a slightly-less-shabby area of Southwark, where the PDC’s didn’t function but there were a spattering of Peckham Boys complicating the street. Grace still operated, even just slightly, under her parent’s money – Daddy working as a groundling at HBSC and Mummy running a till at Marks and Spencers, Thursdays through Mondays from five to close, arguably some of the worst hours to be at M&S. Lex, on the other hand, had opted out of her parents’ help a while ago and now, she was proud of her one-bedroom, one-bath, one-other-room flat in Brixton. Even if the water pressure was dodgy, the living room was also half kitchen, and the neighbors upstairs needed a new mattress and a new set of dishes. She’d earned it, and that’s what mattered. And the guy upstairs probably really did love his lady; she seemed so lovely when Lex bumped into her on the off-chance they crossed paths.

But Lex was also very much so naïve that way.

Grace sighed, knowing she’d just as well not fight the good fight when it came to Lex’s (hopefully) momentary love affair with Brixton. “Well, can you at least tell me what you called me round for, then? What this big surprise-do is all about? These heels are gonna kill me.”

Lex grinned. She loved a good reveal; in fact, she cherished it – the looks on their faces, the split lips and wide eyes, followed by a flurry of excitement and tumbling, flittering conversation. If there was one thing Lex was good at, it was finding something for her girlfriends to do on a Saturday night.

It normally wasn’t this good.

“A text! From 9:45 this morning!” Lex proclaimed, reading dramatically from her phone, a teasing tone lilting in her voice. “And I quote – ‘Lex, it’s been ages. I’m throwing a little party for a friend tonight at the Oasis and I would love for you to come. Bring a friend, even. Please say yes.’”

Grace looked at her quizzically, and Lex only grinned wider. “From Nick Grimshaw.”

The wide eyes ensued. Nick was not one that Lex and Grace normally kept company with – a special case only seen on special occasions.

“So I replied, ‘Of course, Nick, I’d love to see you. Who’s the lucky mate?’”

“And?” Grace nearly cried in anticipation.

“Harry Styles.”

The air was pierced with the shrill shriek of Grace’s excitement. This invite was perhaps the hottest ticket in town – the hot sheen of potential still slick from the printing press. A party, thrown at the Oasis by Nick Grimshaw, for the one and only Harry Styles? Easily the biggest shindig yet in 2014. And somehow, someway, Nick had thought of his sometimes-friend Lex Parker and invited her to come. There was sure to be an amazing DJ, an absolutely unbeatable crowd, and – if they were lucky – an open bar. Lex was really pulling for an open bar.

And with all the news swirling around about Harry Styles as of late, Lex really doubted he would grace his own party with his presence. After everything that happened with Dubai, and the meltdown, and all the other ensuing after effects that slowly toppled like elephant bone dominoes, Lex wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Well, maybe she would a little bit – he would be missing one hell of a party. If there was one thing Nick Grimshaw knew, it was how to have a good time. That’s where he and Lex really saw eye to eye, what drew them to each other in the first place.

She’d never met Harry, of course; Lex normally spent her weekends at clubs up in Camden and that sort of thing, not some much this Leiscter Square fanfare she would be attending that night. It really was serendipitous that she even met Nick in the first place. Lex didn’t really keep company with those sort of people, famous people, and by ‘really,’ it’s more like not at all. Lex was a normal girl, a poor girl, even, living in a shanty flat in Brixton. Nick Grimshaw was an exception. She – supposedly – never really wanted to keep company with the rich and famous anyway, even if she could. Honestly, though, she’d never really thought twice about the curly-mopped singer by the name of Harry Styles. But she was more than happy to attend his party if it meant a reason to have fun.

“Sleigh Bells alright, Grace?” she asked her best mate before sliding the flat, vinyl disc onto her most prized possession, a Crosley record player. Grace nodded absently, now more focused on quickly pinning her cascading ginger curls just right around the nape of her neck. Grace had grown numb to Lex’s sound-tracking obsession a while ago.

Lex remembered her life by the songs that were playing during the important moments. “Them There Eyes” when they brought her little brother, Lucas, home in his plastic baby carrier, buckled into the seat next to her in the car. “Sound of Silence” when her first boyfriend, freckle-kissed Tommy Pearl, touched her breast for the first time. “When You Were Young” when her acceptance to UCL arrived in the post. “3rd Planet” when she officially dropped out. Lex didn’t like to remember those last two, the way she didn’t like to remember a lot of things. But the good things, the good things she did like to remember, and she liked having a song to go along with them.

“What time are we meant to get there? And do you have enough left on your Oyster Card to get all the way to Leiscter Square?”

Lex rolled her eyes at momming Grace, always worried about something even underneath all the excitement of the evening ahead. “Yes, dear,” she hummed. “I have enough money on my Oyster Card. We ought to leave soon, the party started fifteen minutes ago.”

“But Lex,” Grace sighed impatiently, “you’re not even dressed.”

“I’ll hurry up then! No need to twist your pants about it dearest.”

Lex couldn’t afford a dress up to the caliber of what would be seen that night, she was sure – but she did have something hiding in the eaves that would do. On Thursday mornings, Lex took her time off to haunt her favorite vintage stores, the ones she’d collected in her repertoire after in London for so long. And one Thursday morning a few odd weeks before, Lex had found the dress. Emerald green, shift silhouette, three inches above the knee, early-nineties, and the name “Miu Miu” on the tag sewn neatly into the collar. Fifty pounds, gently used, at the charity shop.

“Nick Grimshaw,” Grace proceeded to muse thoughtfully, pouring a stiff glass of whiskey for the both of them. “What a lad. Whoever thought that you’d actually stay in touch.”

Lex shrugged, a little smile playing on her lips as she slicked a coat of red lipstick across them. “Turns out he was good for something,” she replied teasingly, running a hand through her blonde waves before turning to her friend with a questioning glance.

“Wicked,” Grace stated in approval before handing Lex her drink. “Bottoms up.”

On the tube, Grace carefully counted the notes and coins she had stuffed into her purse, making sure she had enough to buy a kebab for the both of them should the drunk munchies arise – she owed Lex one from last time. Lex watched her do so in the reflection in the window across from them, catching the soft curving angles of her friend’s face, the attentive concentration, her rose pink lips pursed and blue eyes sparkling with delight. She considered herself then, next to her, staring straight ahead with determined hazel gaze, strong chin, her excitement only visible by the peeping smirk on her lips. That was always her giveaway.

There was no line outside the Oasis that night – just a huge, pulsing aura coming from the inner sanctum of the club, the DJ table, where Lex was sure some star was set to play. It was nice, for a change, to just walk right into the club – normally, they wasted a good amount of time flirting their way with the bouncer or finding a hidden entrance to slip through when the guest list was set for the evening.

“Lex Parker,” she told the bouncer confidently, and he didn’t question her at all – just simply scanned the list, found her name and the plus-one, and let them inside. Grace looked at her and squealed in the most subdued tone she had in her, and with that they were inside.

She spotted Nick Grimshaw’s carefully coiffed curls the moment they walked in the door, knocking back what appeared to be a gin and tonic. His cool grin was unmistakable when he spotted her, his simple pleasure and knowing obvious in his disposition. The thing with Nick was that he got what he wanted – when he told you to come to the party, you came to the party.

“Grimmy!” Lex cheered upon catching the presenter’s eye, this being the first time in a long time. “It’s so great to see you.”

“Lex,” he greeted smoothly, his smile dripping with the thick syrup of intoxication. Dear, sweet Nick Grimshaw, of course he would be drunk by ten past ten, Lex was not even slightly surprised. He slouched just slightly in his well-tailored suit, checked shirt, six-something frame, as he kissed her on the cheek.

“How is the night going?” she asked when he pulled away, glancing quickly out at the already full nightclub. Rita Ora was on the turntables, a celebrity DJ just as Lex had expected, and hardly a spot was full. She spotted several people she recognized, but none she knew personally, and suddenly felt very small in that fancy green dress.

“Swimmingly,” Nick confirmed with complacent confidence. “The lad showed up, so that’s all I can really ask for. Been a while since I’ve seen him, but I reckon that’s a good thing. And who’s this?”
He gestured to Grace, who had been patiently waiting for an introduction.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Lex cried, pressing a palm to her forehead. “This is Grace Brooksworth, my best mate. My beautiful plus-one.” Grace did an obliging twirl before taking Nick’s hand in a handshake. Nick smirk had suddenly turned to a coy beam.

“I’m sorry to be forward, Grace Brooksworth, best friend and beautiful plus-one, but there is someone I simply must introduce you to,” he insisted curtly. “You are just my chum, Eddie’s type. Do you mind, Lex? You can have her back eventually.”

Lex shook her head. Nick was bold to begin with, but he was even worse when he was drunk. “No, please do! Just please do come back to me and catch up when you’re through, alright?”

Nick gave her an A-OK with his thumb and his forefinger before extending his arm to Grace and dragging her off into the depths of the crowd. Lex was not about to step in between what could be a fun night for Grace, set up by Nick with who Lex was highly suspicious may be Ed Sheeran. She stayed where she was nearly the entrance, waiting patiently for Nick to come back to her, but a few minutes past and she realized that she may as well just catch him later. There was fun to be had.

Lex Parker loved a Long Island Iced Tea, so that was the drink she ordered at the bar. The boozy sweetness trailed down her throat in the most criminally delicious way as the crowd swelled before her, dancing and prattling around and to the music, all sorts of faces Lex recognized from the radio or television. Some smiled at her as they went by, as though they thought they knew her from somewhere. That was thing that Lex had cracked the code to – getting into those raging parties they held downtown and blending in seamlessly among the crowd. That night at the Oasis, drink in hand, she slipped almost unnoticed among the stars.

Almost unnoticed.

Bang bang! He shot me down! Bang bang, I hit the ground!

Lex finally caught sight of Grimmy standing next to Rita, drunkenly spinning at the turntables on his own as a divinely dance-y remake of Shot You Down blared through the speakers. She felt the smirk creep up on her lips watching her friend prance around stage. It was a good song, a good pick on Nick’s part. What she didn’t know just yet was that it would forever be the song she would associate with first meeting Harry Styles.

Bang bang! That awful sound!

She glanced over her shoulder down the bar at that moment to be met with a pair of lush green eyes fixed right back on her. Tousled brown curls, capacious lips, a plain black button down and the most ridiculously worn-through boots Lex had ever seen. Harry Styles.

Bang bang! My baby shot me down!

That one glance was all it took.