So, I thought this would be pretty cool to share. The song attached is what I listened to while writing this chapter. Thought it might give some Harry vibes. Also, thank you to @HarryStylesStyleHair for supporting my story! It'd be awesome if you looked at her story, Perfect, I think it's really good!

Harry

I cursed at the thunder following me as I approached my apartment complex. It was the ugliest building I had seen in my life, with its gross modernism and bare metal plates jutting out from every angle like it was piece of art. It disgusted me. Where is the appreciation for some rustic metal and older buildings? It's like the only place you can find good taste in architecture is in New Orleans!

Well...the architecture wasn't the only thing that had good taste. Damn, that night was a haze, but it was good. Sometimes the nights that are a blur from alcohol are the best, since all you remember is how you felt, and you allow yourself to let go and be free from the constraints of the mind that kills you a little every day.

I turned my key in the lock and input the code. I swung open my door and closed it behind me, itching to grab a glass of scotch. The smooth painful burn down my throat was a constant craving, nothing else besides sex seemed to get rid of it. If I couldn't get a drink in peace, then I did the next best thing – quite literally.

Why was it so hard for her to understand that shit? She went through the same as me, and did I give her shit for it?

I speed walked to the kitchen and hopped up onto the bare granite countertop, snagging a familiar bottle right next to me. I left it there last night because I knew I would be back here, a screw up retreating to the comforts of a cold boxy flat, wanting to satisfy a fiery need. My eyes wandered across the empty rooms. I didn't bother plugging in any appliances or unpacking any boxes because I knew I wouldn't be staying here for long. Unpacking wasn't an option, let alone sleeping here was one, so I crashed at Rose's house last night.

No one must've lived here in a while; I could feel the dust clogging up my senses as I brought my attention back to the bottle in my hands. I jerked back in surprise to notice that there was a great deal missing from it, more than a quarter was gone. I knew I left a brand new 3 year bottle; I don't start to feel anything from the alcohol unless I've had a third of a bottle. And at this rate, I know I wouldn't have drunk anything less than that. Unless... For fuck's sake.

My attention jolted upward in the direction of the bedroom, noticing a slender human figure leaning against a grey wall in the shadows.

I sighed inwardly before spitting out, "What do you want, Hayley? I don't see why you had to break in and drink my scotch, why couldn't you have just broken in?" I glared at her with my green eyes, hoping to cast some sort of fear even though I knew it never worked on her. It'd work on everyone so no one would get too close to me; it made them all run away because no one wanted to get close to someone whose eyes looked as dangerous as mine. But she knew me from when I was weak, and that's all she'll ever see me as. I ran my hand through my curly hair, brushing back the middle part that started to curl to the side of my face.

The figure pushed off the wall and strolled into the sunlight chuckling, "Well, that would take the fun out if it, don't you think?" Her auburn curls were pushed back into a messy bun and she was wearing a floor length velvety black dress accompanied by matching stilettos.

Is it weird I know that those are stilettos? No, I've just listened to her correcting my crude comments whenever we had done a job together. I used to find them sexy, but I don't anymore... Once you see them get rammed into someone's throat, puncturing their carotid artery, leaving someone dead at your feet, spraying blood all over you, they become somewhat of a fear after a while – even if it was meant to save your life. She always saved my ass whenever we did a job together...

"I told you that we were out for good, Hayley." I warned her threateningly, "We had an agreement on that."

Her dark eyes sized me up as she smirked, bringing her purple painted lips into an evil smile as she sauntered forward, only stopping until her hands were close enough to graze my chest exposed by my shirt. "I don't recall you having an out, only your –"

"Then you must be thinking wrong," I snapped at her, feeling myself go out on the defense.

"Am I?" She asked seductively as her cold hands slowly started to slide down my chest. She pressed harder against my stomach, as if she was trying to feel my butterfly tattoo, like she could feel the insect itself embedded into my skin. Staring at my face intently as I shifted uncomfortably, she looped my waist band between her pinky fingers.

I nudged her away as I jumped off the counter and walked over to the front door. I clenched the cool metal handle as I spoke without facing her – I hated how much she could control me with old habits and the power she held. "I'm not doing it so you'll just have to deal with it. I'm not involved with people like you anymore; I'm starting university in a couple days. Hayley, we all know we had reached an understanding about the money, what changed?"

I felt her grinning at me. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

I cursed at her under my breath as I slipped out the door and into the rain, hearing her call out to me in a sugar coated voice just before the door slammed, "Good luck finding an apartment, Harry!"

I ran a hand through my sopping wet hair while listening to my shoes squeaking on the pavement. This was going to be a good day, then Paige had to go and ruin it with getting on my case, then Hayley had to go and ruin it – which by the way, how the hell did she know I was looking for a new flat? The only people who knew were immediate family and a couple friends. Fuck, I forgot I used to run in the same circles as her... I suppose it made sense, given the fact they were trapped like I was, they hadn't any reason to put their asses on the line for me compared to the dark secrets that Hayley knew.

Suddenly realizing I hadn't a single sense of direction of where I was going, I stopped and listened to the rolling thunder above me as I navigated my surroundings. If they came for me I should warn Paige, no matter how much she pissed me off when she brought up something she wasn't supposed to. Whatever, she'd be pissed off when I brought up the time she took Adderall to get through high school. She is such a wuss about her "shameful" past, Jesus, just own up to it then move on already. Fair's fair, isn't it?

I pictured the city's layout before deciding which way the university was. She could be pissed later when I show up at her dorm, I think after all this though, she will owe me a drink or two – hell, we'd both need one.

"Fuck," I jumped at the lightning cracking overhead directly above me. I hate how jumpy I am without a drink, it's like everything isn't so fuzzy and the days are tougher to get through.

That craving never entirely went away; it was dull and annoying even though it sometimes felt like a hot poker in my throat. It nagged at me like a yapping dog nipping at my heels, and I resisted every urge to not kick the damn dogging away – but I always caved.

What the hell was the problem about the flat anyways? She seriously didn't need to go all kamikaze on me for asking for her to help some more, but then she went and had the "growing up" talk with me. What was I supposed to do? Say sorry I'm a douche? Say I would grow up as soon as we had a chat? Obviously I was going to snap at her – for more than one reason! What the hell was the problem with that waitress anyways?

I crossed a slick street, not bothering to check either side for oncoming cars. If people were smart, they wouldn't drive in this weather. It's a massive hazard.

As soon as my shoes hit the sidewalk, my nose caught a woodsy smell mixed with tobacco and alcohol. I craned my neck against the harsh rain to look at the building I was standing in front of. It was two stories, one of which looked like an abandoned studio, and the bottom was a bar, titled "Z's." Chatter began to fill my ears as I checked out the building some more, it called to me for whatever reason I couldn't put my finger on. It was mostly faded red brick and old wood, appearing broken and worn from the elements and age, but it was still enduring the harsh weather conditions.

I walked around back, trying to get a better look at the studio above. I had to hold my dripping wet hair out of my face with one hand while I scoped the building in its entirety. My hair had grown out quite a bit, but I didn't want to cut it yet, it was nice having it longer than usual. It was almost like a new era, breaking me out of that weakling I used to be.

Walking back to the front of the building I entered the bar, letting the familiar smell settle in my nose. I passed a couple pool tables while I strutted to the bar and took a seat on one of the questionably sticky barstools. I peered around the bar a bit, taking in the jukebox in the corner by the loo, the dim colored lights above, the massive wall lined with liquor, and the brick, wrought iron, and wooden accents.

I motioned to the bartender, quietly asking him for a scotch on the rocks. Before I came to the city it was really difficult to fight the urge to stare at people's tattoos, especially ones that covered entire limbs. I guess that changed since I got inked myself. The bartender looked about my age, probably a high school dropout if he ended up somewhere like this – but I could be wrong. His entire right arm was sleeved in a bunch of random tattoos that ran together from his shoulder down to his hand. His shaggy black hair covered part of his face as he handed me my drink.

I thanked him and sighed in relief as the liquid started doing its job of numbing the burning in my throat with its own burn. I set my glass down and took another look around at the bar from my seat.

"Are you looking to buy?" His warm brown eyes met mine as he quickly returned to wiping out a glass I didn't notice before.

My brows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean?" I inquired, intrigued by his choice of words.

"The bar's getting sold, to the dismay of the regular partygoers around here." He leaned against the back counter and crossed his arms, setting the glass down next to him.

Seemed a bit defensive, what's with that attitude? "I was just taking a look around, I had no idea it was for sale..."

"Yeah," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger.

Suddenly, it clicked into place and realization dawned on me. "So are you the owner?"

He shook his head in response without meeting my eyes, seeming quite torn up about it. There was something in his eyes that told me how much it hurt him to give it up; it was something more than just a bar to him.

"How much are you selling for?" I prodded further, "I was trying to check out the studio upstairs, I thought it looked abandoned?"

He sighed and tilted his head back in annoyance as he blinked slow and hard. He cocked his head to the side to look at me, "I don't know. I already have enough to pay for college, so I don't know what I should sell it for – I really wish I could keep it, but I'd rather get my degree than spend my money on this place. So unless anyone with daddy's credit card wants this, it's getting sold to the bank. And, yeah, no one's lived up there for years."

"I feel you man," I cleared my throat, surprised by the thoughts swirling around in my head. I chewed on my bottom lip before speaking and took a controlled sip of my drink, trying to not knock it back like I usually do. "I'm looking for a place to live, and you need money to keep this place, but don't want to sell the bar because the money is already set aside as tuition." I paused, watching the satisfying confusion flicker across his face. "I myself never found money to be an issue, so how about this, what's your name?"

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between mine, trying to see why I was smirking underneath the surface, "Zayn."

"Zayn, I'm Harry." I held out a hand for him to shake.

Wow, he has a firm grip; he'd be good in the rings.

"Zayn, how about I buy your bar? You get to run it still and go to school, but I live upstairs. A possible solution to both of our problems?" I raise an eyebrow, unable to read his blank face.

"Oh my god. Yes. YES! Thank you so much!" He exclaimed while grinning from ear to ear, his nose scrunching. His eyes lit up as he struggled to find words that he was suddenly deprived of, but his eyes told me everything he couldn't say. The eyes, besides a few obvious ones, were one of my favorite body parts because of how much you could tell about someone through their eyes, they are a window to the soul. Yet, only few have a mind open enough to look through that window and see past the facades and masks.

I watched him still trying to process what happened in less than a minute. Damn, I hope I didn't fry his brain. He leaned on the slick wooden counter and took a deep breath of contentment as a major cloud hanging over him was suddenly fanned away by a practical godsend... Me.

It was my turn to smirk. "So, Zayn, what did you say about those partiers? Any of them hot?"

He laughed heartily and poured a glass of whiskey for himself before answering, "You should wait and see for yourself. Cheers, mate." He dipped his head and raised his glass towards me before bringing it to his chapped lips.

I smiled darkly while downing the rest of my drink in one gulp, sighing through my teeth in pain. "Well then, I will be here a while."

"I think this is cause for celebration, what do you think?" He said slyly, a look of mischievousness playing across his eyes. Reaching into a compartment I couldn't see from my side of the bar, Zayn's hand emerged with a couple joints. He extended his hand out, offering me one, which I gladly took, placing it between my lips.

He grabbed a lighter from the same compartment and lit his up, smoothly hollowing his cheeks before blowing out a puff of smoke with a tilt of his head. I laughed as he closed his eyes, as if he was already affected by the haze beginning to swirl around us.

"Z," I asked himexpectantly, my joint still resting between my lips, itching for a flame. Hefrowned as his eyes drifted from his smoking one to mine. "Care to light me up?"

A/N: So, that was Harry's chapter! Hopefully it was enjoyable to read, I definitely enjoyed writing it! I would love it if you voted, commented, and shared my story; it already means a lot to me how much support I've gotten <33  I look forward seeing you in the next chapter! So, just curious at this point so far, what do you think of Haz? And Z? Can't wait to get the other members introduced! 

All the love,

Faye xx

P.S. Not my first name, but my middle name <33