||Twelve|Round Three||

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"Can't you see I'm trying, I don't even like it."
-Is This It

Despite an overly energetic crowd and a growling lead singer that stumbled a lot on stage, Harlow's attention was averted. She sipped her drink, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of Alex. She stuck by Julian's side—her gut instinct telling her not to get too close, incase Alex saw.

She knew it was nothing more than paranoia—it was too dark and crowded for Alex to even recognize her, if by some chance he was even there.

Harlow had heard a lot about this place, but had never actually been. Alex worked at Cavern's Bar and Grill when she had met him. Six months later, he landed a job at the Mercy Lounge. He scheduled gigs for rising bands, but it was someone else that suggested the talents he booked—Ryan... something. For the life her, Harlow couldn't recall his last name.

"I'm gonna get another drink, you want anything?!" Julian yelled over the sea of chaotic madness that surrounded them during a small interlude.

"No, I'm good!" Harlow took another drink, looking to the rather small stage. It was amazing how many people fit into the small venue—people stood shoulder to shoulder at the front of the stage. There were even two mosh pits on either side that were migrating towards the center of the crowd—where Harlow stood.

Although Harlow loved music and different genres of it, mosh pits and live grunge metal wasn't exactly her scene.

Before Harlow could make sense of the nonsense surrounding her, the drink in her hand hit the floor—her sweater soaked in warm beer. The mosh pit had moved to where she was standing; Fab and Nick involved in the madness. Nikolai on the other hand, was beaming red with a wide smile plastered on his face—unwillingly caught up in the crowd.

She left her drink in the floor, fighting through the crowd to find some peace from the sea of bodies that didn't seem to know the meaning of personal space.

This had been a bad idea. All she could seem to think about was running into Alex and getting up early tomorrow for school.

Julian had a strange power over her—he could convince her to do just about anything. He was passive with doe-like eyes that held an angelic innocence that resembled a fallen angel. He was quiet, but had a face that spoke too much. He was kind, even when he was trying to be an asshole. Julian had more patience than she could force herself to muster; he listened and cared, even when he shouldn't have. She was proud to call him her friend; but looking at him in that moment, standing at the bar... she would be happier to call him something more.

He stood with a slouch, his folded arms on the bar top as he waited for his drink; all the while, chewing on his bottom lip.

She hated herself—she found what he was doing seductive. He seemed to have no idea just how attractive he was. Harlow found herself staring at him; his long, lean body leaning into the bar, kicking the top of his converse shoe against the steel chair of the stool. His jeans were worn, his shirt with several holes just above the hem.

Harlow pried her eyes away, knowing she needed to get out before any other strange thoughts filled her head about him. She turned, starting toward the restrooms.

She collided right into someone; Harlow nearly fell back into the dividing wall that separated the women's restroom from the men's. Once again, she was covered in beer, this time it was the top of her sweater that had gotten soaked.

Julian's eyes wavered toward the restrooms, the sight of a small confrontation ensuing caught his attention—it was Harlow.

He watched in amusement, seeing her have to look up at the young woman she had (from the looks of it) walked right into. He assumed the worst, thinking he was going to have to break up a potential fight—but to his surprise, Harlow and the unfamiliar girl were laughing, talking about what had just happened.

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