Happy Place || A Jerrie Fanfiction

XI - YOU BET I AM

Did my ears deceive me or did I actually just hear Perrie implying that she's the freaking manager of this restuarant!? Jesus, I am honestly not lying when I say that it's virtually killing me not to look around and just butt in, if it weren't for my dignity and pride, that is.

"So you're saying that, because of that stupid position of yours, you think you can get away with that bitchiness?" The unnamed woman -who shamelessly flirted with Perrie, might I add - questioned, incredulity laced on her tone. And for once, I'm siding with her on this one.

My thoughts ran back to when Perrie settled down in front of me after bringing the food that I ordered awhile ago. I internally scoffed. No wonder she was so calm and collected; she wasn't afraid of being caught dawdling during work. At first, I associate it with her reckless demeanor. Perrie can be that type of woman that gets what she wants without worrying about the implications, be it a good one or bad. But in this case, she genuinely did not have to care because she's basically the boss!

"All I'm saying is, sweetie," Perrie emphasized, a hint of sarcasm hidden behind her clipped tone, "that if someone talked about your friend like that, you wouldn't like it either and have the urge to butt in as well - regardless of the setting."

"Wow, anybody would be so lucky to have you as a friend."

"And anybody wouldn't obviously be lucky to have you." Perrie shoots back. Her stern voice made me grateful that I'm not there to witness the woman showcase her rage with my own two eyes. I hear her take a deep, audible breath, then spoke lowly, "Do me and yourselves a favor and get the hell out of this restuarant."

I hear Clara scoff, "Happy to!"

I hear another handful of furious sand-crunching noises - probably both of the women standing up from their chairs. I brace myself and focused on my phone, resume the scrolling process in Instagram, liking random posts that come up on my feed.

At the corner of my eyes, I finally see the both of them - which is certainly not that hard considering the fact there are two women - one ginger-headed and one with brunette short hair - that were both angrily stomping their way further onto the beach.

"Are you alright?"

My head snapped in front to see Perrie settling herself down on her seat. Her eyes conveyed concern and worry. Was I just imagining things or did I feel my heart thawing at her facial expression?

"I'm fine," I assure her. I try to smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. I didn't bother to gauge Perrie's reaction, whether she believed me or not because I go back to skim through my phone. Though just as I opened my phone, Perrie copped hold of it and slid it away from me, leaving me no choice but to cross my arms and look at her.

"Are you really okay, Jade Thirlwall?"

My jaw clenched tightly, but I did not let it become noticeable to her. "Perrie, I'm fine."

Her eyebrow rose. "Jade Thirlwall."

"What did I tell you about my full name?"

"I have to keep repeating your name because I might forget you, Jade Thirlwall," she says it perfunctorily, like she had the format memorized and it only gets triggered when broached.

For some reason, there was a twinge inside my chest at the prospect of what might happen to the both of us if ... No, I will not think about it. At least not now.

I shake my head and heave a sigh, "It's just what being a celebrity entails - when you gain fans, you also gain haters, paparazzis stalking you. You name it, you deal with it. Because you'll be considered ungrateful if you don't."

"You're just human, Jade Thirlwall," Perrie enunciates every word, as if to make sure that it gets through this thick skull of mine. She shakes her head incredulously, "What kind of sick notion is this?"

"It's Hollywood, Perrie. It's hell." I shake my head again, raising my right hand. "Enough about me," I stopped her.

Perrie nodded and didn't speak further, waiting for me to change subjects.

I peer at her quizzically with furrowed eyebrows, then I question, "Are you really the manager?"

Perrie showcases a coy smile in response. "You don't believe me?"

"Should I?" I tilt my head.

She shrugs. "I'm not forcing you to."

"So you're just a waitress then?"

Her impish smile curved into a sly smirk this time. "Would you believe me if I told you that I'm the owner?"

"Would you be angry at me if I said that I don't?"

Perrie draws her head back and raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Do I not look like one?"

I mirror her expression. "Considering the fact that you look like and are a waitress?" — with a snort, I size her up and shake my head slowly — "I can't imagine you are."

Perrie didn't respond to that, and her smirk disappeared, which made me concerned all of a sudden for some reason. Did I offend her? I decided that perhaps I did offend her in a way and was about to say something to downplay my words, when a hint of a smile materialized on her visage.

Then, slowly, her smile widens, and she chuckled. "Jade Thirlwall, you're a judgemental one, aren't ya?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm quite offended that you'd think I don't look like I'm the owner."

"So are you the owner or not?" I ask her.

Perrie seems to contemplate the question, and bites the inside of one of her cheeks, which exasperated me a trifle bit because it's such an easy question that requires a yes or a no. So what the hell is her problem now?

She then shrugs her shoulders. "I don't feel like answering that anymore," she says.

"And why is that?"

"Because you won't believe me, anyway."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? So you really are the owner?"

Her smile appeared once more, followed by a wink. "You bet I am."