~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
*****
It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
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If I'd thought my feet felt heavy walking to Harry's office, that was nothing compared to now. No, now it feels like they're encased in concrete.
With each dragging step my brain conjures up worst case scenarios. What if she is lying to us all? What if she's working for her dad? I feel instant guilt for even thinking that way but I can't shake the feeling of dread that has settled like an immovable block of ice in my stomach.
Navigating the warren of hallways in the back of Fantasia usually annoys the hell out of me but tonight, even with my slow movements, I find myself arriving at Topher's office far too fast for my liking.
I loiter in front of his office for an embarassingly long few minutes trying to work up the courage to knock. Before I even get the chance the door swings open and Topher's confused face pops into view.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing standing out here? You know I can see you, right?" He nods towards a discreet camera above his door and I feel my neck heat up as I realise he's watched me standing out here having an existential crisis.
I let out an annoyed huff and fix my slumped posture. "Can I come in? Harry sent me here with a job to do and apparently neither of us can leave until it's done." Topher just rolls his eyes and flashes me his phone with a text on display from Harry telling him as much as he steps aside to let me through. His office is dimly lit as always; bluish light eminating from the multiple screens almost completely covering one wall and LED lights accenting the contours of the room.
It always surprises me how tidy and clean he keeps his space. I guess I just always bought into the stereotype of messy computer nerds. Topher defies all expectations and preconceptions. Instead of some skinny, pale little man with questionable hygiene he's a hulking, six foot mass of muscle who values a neat, organised work environment. He's a private guy but we've always gotten along - although he won't let me smoke in here. God I could use a joint right now to take the edge off.
Topher gestures to chair and I immediately slump down into it while releasing a deep breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. An awkward silence follows until Topher clearly loses patience with me.
"What are we doing then?" I litany of apologies to Addy run through my brain as I prepare myself to break her trust.
I tell him all the information I was able to assemble and what I think it means we should look into. With Topher's tech skills and my guidance it doesn't take us long to dive into The Way Back Machine; a website that archives the internet so old versions of sites can be accessed. Topher generously provided me with an indepth explantion of the search algorithm he created in order to scour the website for any hint of Addy's existance. None of which I understood.
