𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 :: 𝐡𝐞𝐬

1.5

Penelope and I are dressed and ready for the night.

"Let's take a selfie. The lighting is so good over here. Should I smile or do the duck face? Should I post it on instagram? What if my ex sees it? Come over here. We look good," she rambled on.

She's a bit of an air head to be honest. She's obsessed with herself. I don't really know how she got into college or even finished highschool. She's an only child and her family has money so I guess that's why. None the less, I love her.

I walk over to her and laugh. I pose for a picture with her.

"Cmon let's go," I say as she rapidly starts trying a caption for the post.

"Ok let me grab my purse," she says.

I meet her at the car. I decided to drive because Penelope isn't the best driver in the world, to say the least.

We hop in my audi and begin driving. We are driving though New York City. Bright lights and fast cars. It's busy on this Friday night. Women dressed in extravagant outfits stroll the streets. Fur coats and tight dresses. Shining diamonds and fishnet stockings. Silky hair and high heels. Designer bags and bright lip stick.

Men in oversized coats. Tight dress pants and button ups. Gucci loafers and boots. Just by looking at them you can tell that they smell like a million bucks. Chiseled jaw lines and strong stares. Flashy watches and quiffed hair:

Everyone wants to party. We pull up to our favorite club. We manage to find a place to park a few blocks over. We walk along side New York's elite. Men carrying flasks and showing their friends small bags of cocaine and weed. Woman carrying their large Louis Vuitton's and Birkin's.

We walk you to the bouncer that is standing at the entrance at the club. We are mixed in with a group of men and women. The man cuts us off as we are about to walk in.

"Can't let you in," he says sternly.

"Why not?" Penelope scuffs as she puts her hand on her hip.

Before the man could respond, someone spoke up.

"They're with me, sir," says a man behind us.

I turn around. Harry.

"Of course, Mr.Styles," says the man as he unclips the velvet rope to let us in.

Penelope is just as shocked as I am. I just nod and walk past the man. She grips my arm and whispers in my ear, "is that him?".

I nod and bite my lip. We make our way in.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing here?," I spin around and ask.

"What? Am I not allowed to party every now and again?" he asks with a smirk.

"Well I suppose, you just don't seem like the partying type," I say with a shrug.

"I could say the same about you," he says in defense, eyeing me up and down. I blush.

"Well anyways, this is my friend Penelope, Penelope this is my boss, Harry," I introduce them.