Don't Judge Before You Know

Harry Styles, a popstar who's always in the spotlight. Lately the fame has gotten to his head; he thinks he knows everything and he can do no wrong. However, there is one person he cannot impress. Meet Storm, a new DJ who works 2 jobs to make ends meet and must take care of her baby sister. What happens when a egotistical boy and a stubborn girl meet? They should expect some sparks.


3. Passed Out Boy

Storm’s POV


The nerve of that curly haired bastard.


First, he’s looking at me like I’m his prey or something and second he insults me by saying a woman couldn’t possibly be a DJ. I mean is he sexist or what? Like that seriously pisses me off. I’m a new DJ in London and I’m actually doing really well.


I work at this club as a bartender for a couple of hours on the weekend before being the DJ on Friday’s and Saturday’s. Working here at Club Royale boosted my status once people here passed the word that I was a pretty good DJ and more people kept coming to see me.


Then this little fucker had to come in and ruin my Friday night right before I went on. As I mixed the track, I tried to forget about him. He just really irritated me, but he seems like the type of guy that automatically believes he can get any girl he wants with the blink of an eye. Guys that think they’re entitled like that guy did just pisses me off.


I shook myself to get rid of the thought of the curly haired guy and continued mixing the music. Looking out into the crowd I saw that the people were dancing to the music which made me smile. It always made me smile when I knew that the people out clubbing liked my mixes. Sometimes I remixed songs and other times I mixed songs together.


Right when the thought of that guy left, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled off my headphones and turned around. And of course it would be my luck that it was the curly haired freak from earlier.


“What do you want?” I snapped. He was obviously drunk and I didn’t want to deal with any drunk, horny guys.


“I would like you, in my bed, tonight.” He said slowly.


“Yeah, never going to happen.” I said, putting one headphone over my ear hoping he would get the hint and leave. Sadly he was too drunk to put 2 and 2 together. He came closer to me and I turned to glare at him. “How did you even get back here?”


“I’m Harry Styles, that’s how,” he answered.


“Who?” Whoever Harry Styles is, he isn’t someone that I’ve heard of, so he probably isn’t that big. “Well I’m working, so leave me alone.” I told him.


But being the stubborn ass that he is, he stayed right where he was and continued staring at me as I played music.

“You’re pretty, has anyone ever told you that?” he asked. I looked in his direction with a raised eyebrow.


“And you’re drunk, has anyone told you that?” I retorted.


“I’m not drunk, you’re just blurry.” Harry stated confidently. When I didn’t respond, he continued to stare at me.


“What is your problem? Go away before I call security,” I snapped. He looked at me with wide eyes and I glared back until he finally gave up and walked away to a couch on the opposite side of the VIP section. However, I could still feel his eyes on me throughout the night.


A group of dancers that I was friends with sometimes did choreography to a song and they would perform it in the club. Tonight was one of those nights and as I played Wonderland by Natalia Kills they came together on the floor and began to dance. I moved along to the music as I watched them; occasionally they would ask me to dance with them and it was always fun. I mean I’m not as good as they are, but I’m a decent dancer.


Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Curly Hair was still looking at me as he sipped drink after drink. That guy must have been wasted by now; I think he was on his 6th or 7th drink by now and we only had another hour until closing.


The club was beginning to thin out by 3am and people were leaving, tripping and stumbling over each other as they made their way to taxi’s. I began packing up most of my stuff because technically I had to keep playing music until 3:30, when the club closed. By closing time only one person was still in the club; that person was Mr. Curly Hair who was passed out on the couch.


The club owner Mr. Succro came over to me as I was almost finished packing up for the night. “Nice job tonight Storm.”


I smiled, “Thanks. I’m glad you gave me a chance.” It was true; without Mr. Succro, I wouldn’t have a job as a DJ. Most clubs wouldn’t hire a female DJ, the only reason being that we were female.


“Not a problem; you have really proved yourself worthy of this job.” Mr. Succro told me. “I hate to ask you, but can you get that guy out of here. I need to close up and get home to the wife.” I think I was the only female employee he would ask to take care of a drunk guy; one night he saw me take down some guy that was basically trying to rape me. After that, no one doubted my self-defense skills. That was the only useful things my father taught me before he left.


“Sure, no problem.” I nodded. He went into the back room and I went out and put my equipment in my car before even attempting to wake this guy up.


I stood over him thinking of how I was going to wake him up. I nudged his shoulder, but he continued snoring. “Hey! Wake up!” I nudged him again. No response. Alright, I tried being nice. “Wake up; the club is closing!” I said while shaking his shoulders.


Finally, his eyes snapped open and he looked at me with confusion in his eyes. Then a lazy smile spread across his face and he tried pulling me towards him, “Hey there sexy.”


I pushed him off which wasn’t hard seeing as he was piss drunk. “You need to get out of here. The club’s closing.”


He looked at me like I was speaking another language. “Whass goin’ on? Where am i?” he slurred.


I sighed, “You’re at Club Royale and you need to go home. Can you tell me your name?”


“My name is…is…wait, what’s my name? Who am I?! I can’t remember what happened to me?!” he yelled, searching the room with panicked eyes.


Oh, brother. I can’t very well tell him to drive home; that was an accident bound to happen. Even if I called him a taxi he wouldn’t be able to tell the driver where the hell he lived. As much as I hate to say this, as of right now he was my responsibility.


I let out a breath before leaning over and putting my hand into one of his front pockets trying to find his phone. Obviously he thought I was going for something else and he put a hand on my face. “Moving a little fast there, aren’t we?” he said with a smirk.


I rolled my eyes and pulled out his iPhone. Luckily there was no pass code on it, so I could look through his recent calls without a problem. I scrolled through and saw that this Harry kid had made multiple calls to a person named Louis. I hit the call button and waited for him to pick up.


“Harry, where the hell have you been?! I’ve been calling you for the past hour and you haven’t answered. Do you know how worried the boys and I have been? Jesus—“


I decided to shut this hyperactive kid up before he blasted an eardrum, “Calm down!”


“Uh, who’s this and why do you have Harry’s phone?” the boy asked.


“Basically your friend here is wasted and he passed out in the club. I need you to pick him up because the club is closing and he can’t remember his own name let alone his address.” I answered.


“Oh…okay. What club is he at this time?” Louis asked.


“Club Royale,” I said.


“Alright, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” Louis told me before hanging up.


“Here,” I tossed his phone into his lap. “Let’s go outside and wait for your friend.”


He struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, but failed miserably. I huffed before bending down and putting one of his arms around my shoulder. I heaved him up and almost fell under his weight. His arm slipped to my waist and I only held him up by side-hugging him all the way out. I dragged him along with me to the doors and finally made it outside with absolutely no help from the guy I was practically carrying.


I dropped him outside on the pavement where he seemed quite content and snuggled up to the ground like it was his bed.


A few minutes later a Porsche pulled up and a guy around 20 years old hopped out. As he walked over to me he looked down at his friend on the ground. He rolled his eyes and turned to me. “Are you Louis?” I asked.


“Yeah, I’m really sorry about my friend. He’s been doing this more and more recently,” Louis said.


“No problem,” I said, waving a hand. “I figure he would like to sleep in a bed then on the streets.”


Louis laughed, “Yeah probably. Alright, I’ll get him in the car and take him home.” He bent over and grabbed Harry by his waist. Louis grunted with the weight of Harry.


“Let me help,” I offered. I grabbed Harry’s ankles and together we moved Harry into the backseat of the Porsche.


“Thanks again. I appreciate it.” Louis said.


“Don’t think about it. But I really have to go,” I told him.


“Really? Is there any way I can thank you?” Louis asked.


“Uh, maybe. But I need to go,” I waved to him as I got into my car.


I continued driving for about 15 minutes until I reached my flat. I unloaded my car and brought it into the flat. As I shut the door, I noticed my flat mate, Ryder, asleep on the couch, the TV still on. I smiled to myself.


Ryder and I had been friends for years, we even lived next door to each other growing up. We’ve known each other since primary school and his parents were like my second parents. When Travis admitted he was gay, I was basically the only one that stuck with him.


Ryder and I had decided to move out around the same time, so his parents paid for the flat we were currently living in. They were rich; there was no other way to put it and with the complications I had to deal with, they were nice enough to offer to pay. But Ryder and I did have to pay for food, heat, electricity and stuff like that.


We had grown up in a small city outside of London, but decided to move here. Mostly because Ryder goes to University here and this was where the best DJ’s worked.


I went over to where he was laying and shut the TV off. I gently shook Ryder so he could go and sleep in his own bed.


“Ryder, wakey, wakey.” I whispered.


His eyes fluttered open and he yawned and sat up. “What time is it?” he asked.


“Almost 4. Go to bed, okay.” I told him.


“Alright,” Ryder answered. I laughed to myself. When he was tired, you could tell him to do anything and he would. It was kind of adorable.


I followed Ryder down the hallway, continuing when he turned into his room. I went into my room and went over to the crib that was at the foot of my bed. Looking down, I could see Sophia sleeping soundly, cuddling with the blanket Ryder had gotten for her. I quickly pulled off my clothes and took a shower. I came back out, put some pajamas on and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

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