27.

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Harry's P.O.V.

"You can't go alone," Mitch says from beside me, his seat taken at the poker table.

I tear open the small bag of white power and let the contents spill onto the green tabletop, lining the powder up with my fingers before pressing my face against the table to inhale the line in one shot. The burn travels down into my sinuses as I stand up straight and rub my fist against my nose, wiping away any excess.

"Yeah I can," I answer, turning to look at him as he plays with the cigarette in his fingers, "It's just Will. What's he gonna do? I'll be fine."

"Well he put you in the hospital first of all—" Niall begins but I cut him off.

"The drugs he gave me, yes. But him directly? Not a fucking chance," I scoff, running a hand through my hair to push it off of my forehead.

"Just forget about it. It doesn't make sense for you guys to have this stupid ass rivalry. You work together, shit doesn't need to be messier than it already is," Liam says, leaning against the poker table as he speaks.

"Whatever this is should have ended before we beat the living hell out of him," Louis shakes his head, a cigarette resting between his lips while he speaks.

"Can you all shut the fuck up? I know what I'm doing," I scoff, grabbing my leather jacket from the table and sliding it on.

I hate being fucking questioned.

"Oh really? So you're just going to fuck him up again and then what?" Niall presses, sarcasm present in his tone.

"Then we're even," I shrug, reaching for my helmet that's resting on the table.

There's a moment of silence around the table as I feel the effects of the coke begin to take place, coursing through my bloodstream. It takes more than it used to for me to feel it— I'm just used to it by now. It's like breathing. I need it.

"At least let one of us com—" Louis begins, but I cut him off.

"No, just drop it," I spit out, letting the helmet hang from my fingertips as I make eye contact with him.

There's a brief silence, all of them exchanging wary looks with one another. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a cigarette, slipping it between my lips and lighting it, cupping the end of it with my hands so that the flame takes hold of the stick, inhaling as I do so. My eyes travel between them as I exhale, the smoke traveling in front of my face.

"Anyone else have something to say?" I ask rhetorically, sticking the cigarette between my lips once more.

Another moment of silence ensues. Nobody says anything. That's what I thought.

"Thought so," I mumble with the stick between my lips, clutching the helmet harder in my grasp and turning on my heel to walk towards the exit of the underground parking garage.

As I walk towards where my bike is, I hear their mumbled disapprovals from the table behind me. Dumbasses.

Approaching my bike, I attach my helmet to the back, latching it onto the seat. I stare in front of me at the large, metal sliding door that leads outside, a long and steep ramp awaiting me outside of the enclosed space. I reach into the inside pocket of my jacket, fumbling for the small button key and push the button, the metal immediately beginning to screech as it slowly lifts up, exposing the night sky.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling the smoke of the cigarette as the stick still rests in my mouth. I take a few deep inhales, smoking it down to the bud before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it with my heeled boot. Slinging my leg over the bike, I position myself on it and release the kickstand before revving the engine to life and grabbing the black sunglasses hanging from my shirt, sliding them onto the bridge of my nose.

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