Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 24.

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This dream isn't feeling sweet
We're reeling through the midnight streets
And I've never felt more alone
It feels so scary getting old
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Harlow Dean

Red lips, a satin black dress, straightened hair, a new bottle of perfume, anything to fill me with confidence.

It's working, I feel like I'm on top of the world tonight but I can't tell whether it's just the post-breakdown relief or the fact the new heels I ordered while crying a week ago that arrived today. Retail therapy works wonders, I'm just not sure my bank account would agree.

I bought a new dress for Friday's black and white themed night during yesterday's breakdown. Do I have plenty of outfit options at home in my wardrobe? Yes, but I was sad so it doesn't count.

We've been open for an hour and a half now, yet Harry and the rest of his friends are yet to appear. This is out of character for Harry considering he's made a habit of showing up when we're not open yet because he thinks he's entitled to it, but if they're not coming then I won't complain, makes avoiding Harry a lot easier.

Bad bitch Harlow has come out to play tonight, I don't want to go all shy and nervous because of Harry so he can stay away as long as he wants, it's fine by me.

I'm happy tonight, finally feeling like myself and I'm glad. I don't like feeling down, it's so draining and tiring yet sleeping seems to be the only thing I can't do when I feel like that.

It's not often I experience men acting disrespectful towards me in my own club, but I'm a young woman in an environment where that type of thing is guaranteed so there's no avoiding it. As I was walking by one of the tables at the side, just off the dance floor a group of men at least double my age snapped their fingers at me and asked for a bottle of Prosecco. Luckily I've become quite thick skinned because of the environment I chose to work in so I just ignore the rude gesture and get them their bottle of Prosecco.

"You don't come with the bottle do you?" One of them asks, looking me up and down in the most perverted way.

It's always the white men in suits isn't it?

"I own the club you're drinking in, keep treating me like an object and you'll be barred." I threatened, the smile fading off of his face.

Why is it that men are always scared of a woman in power? The poor man is intimidated by the fact I'm half his age earning the same if not more than him, cute.

I mean I'm not one to judge, but start treating me or any of the women in my club like an object then I sure as hell will.

"What was all that about?" Demi asks as I approach the bar, placing down a glass of water for me to drink.

"Just the usual straight white man thing," I scoff in response.

Literally every woman in the club is used to the disgusting men that sometimes visit and like to make their thoughts heard, but they're easy to avoid. You just speak to the rest of the people here, the younger girl groups, the very attractive college boys, the wholesome friend groups that contain every single type of person you can imagine or the middle aged women who come to bitch about their husbands. Nine times out of ten the environment here is great, it's just a shame those men ruin things sometimes.