isabella [h.s.]

eighteen

A.N. it still feels strange to still be posting right now, especially because many of my social media feeds have somewhat gone back to 'normal' - even though it is not normal and the fight isn't over yet! The #blacklivesmatter movement is SO important even when it's not trending anymore, and we can't let people just forget about it. The riots/protests and social media pressure is causing change, so we must continue to keep talking about this and demanding MORE change!!

Pls continue to sign petitions, donate, spread awareness, support black businesses, protest, educate yourself and others. If you need book/documentary/movie recommendations to learn more about this, leave a comment and myself (and I'm sure others) will provide some! 🖤 

**Diamonds are a girl's best friend,
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
I don't need you, I got flooded out baguettes
I don't need you, all my diamonds drippin' wet**

ISABELLA

There are many things that I never planned on doing.

I never planned on moving to New York. I never planned on becoming a stripper, even though I should've known my job prospects would be pretty slim seeing as I was a young girl with no money when I first moved here, but that's besides the point. I never planned on being on the brink of homelessness, and having to move into the spare room of a lower east side apartment with a homicide detective as a roommate. And I definitely never planned on grinding on, let alone kissing, that detective roommate in the middle of a packed dancefloor on a random Friday night.

To be fair, though, I don't think Harry planned on kissing me either - especially if his shocked expression once we finally pulled apart was any indication. It was pretty clear that neither of us intended for things to progress so far; it was simply a mistake fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol, sultry music thumping through the club, and a build up of sexual tension. In hindsight, I probably should've just stayed there so both of us could've laughed it off together and prevented the inevitable awkwardness that will exist between us now, but instead, I ran off to hide in the girls toilets like a scared child. Which is where I stayed until Tina eventually found me and we both stumbled into a cab back to the apartment at around four in the morning.

As I rub my tired eyes, probably smearing last night's leftover makeup, I glance down at Tina who's still sleeping beside me, smiling at the fact that she made sure to put her wig cap on before bed even though she was completely out of it. I obviously was too, judging by the fact that my head is now absolutely pounding and I have that gross metallic taste in my mouth that always accompanies a hangover. With a yawn, I shove off the covers and slip out of bed, my eyes squinting with the daylight as I make my way out of my bedroom and over to the bathroom. After ferociously scrubbing my teeth with my toothbrush to get rid of the awful taste, I wipe my face clean and then quickly run a brush through my hair, scraping half of it back into a ponytail before turning to leave the bathroom.