Rush was a name that was self-explanatory. The was constantly packed, no matter what time, day. Honestly, it made me sick, to verge of throwing up. That's why Moxie was a perfect fit for me. Only days that were somewhat busy were friday and saturday nights. Even then, the place was half of what was going on in Rush. The only reason I was there, my best friend, Sam. She worked there for the money. Unlike me, she could stand people, crowded places that way to many wasted people. Rush was about thirty miles away from Moxie, twenty from the apartment I shared with Jessica, who I wasn't really that close to, as Sam.
I hurried to only seat left at the bar. Sitting next to extremely large man, that drank so much that he was sleeping, drool leaving the bar, making a quite large puddle on the wood floors. I shivered of disgust, turning to my other side, seeing a man, yelling at his cell. He had a deep voice, with a heavy Irish accent.
"Jesus Christ!" He yelled, still so quite compared to the noise of the bar music.
"Say it any louder, you might piss someone off." I leaned in, making my voice loud so he could hear.
He turned to me like he didn't know I was there. His eyebrow raised, a small smirk, showing crooked teeth behind his pale lips. "Does it look like I give a shit what people think?"
I bit my lip a little, and leaned into him, whispering into his ear, "Seeing that Glock 23 stuffed inside your jacket, I'm going to have to say no." I pulled back, watching, waiting for his response.
"Well, little lady, I guess I'm going to have to say something about that. How the hell do you know that I have a Glock 23? No way any women have ever said that to me. Shit, I haven't heard any women talk about guns to me."
I loved looking at the expression on his face, as he was interested in what I was going to say next. I'm sure he hasn't looked that way to any other woman. Ever. I could also tell he was looking around at my features. Though, he stayed at one place until he started to speak.
"That scar looks pretty nasty. Right through the eyebrow, 'bout a inch thick? Gives more of an idea of what kind of lady you are."
"So, you think that you have me all figured out by one scar?"
"'Course not. I said idea. I wanna say that you take shit, you give it."
I couldn't help but smiling wide at the floor. Though, cold fingers lifted my chin. I did the same to him, looking at the scar he had himself, on his chin.
"You're not the only one......?" I extended the statement into a question, a way to ask his name.
He put out a hand, "Niall. Niall Horan."
I took it, "Rose. Rose Tennant." Mocking him.
We stayed the same, until I pulled away, and he asked, "So you aren't a British Bitch, apparently. So where are you from in Ireland?"
"Excuse me? Did you just say British Bitch?"
He was about to respond, when another man came from behind him. Resting his hand on Niall's shoulder, shaking it a bit. His brown hair was slicked back, into a very tiny ponytail, as small as my thumb. Perfect teeth, as he smiled.
"That's what he calls us to joke around. But, I think he says that because he is the only Irish one. I'm Harry Styles." Putting out the hand that was on Niall's shoulder.
I stood. "Rose Tennant." When I let go, Niall smiled at me, took a quick look at Harry, then back at me. While Harry stood there in complete confusion.
"Isn't she amazing?!" Niall, excited, but quiet.
"Rose! I'm sorry! I wont be able to get off until late. Here." Sam put a martini glass filled with red liquid in front of me. "On the house. Just ask if you need anything, I'll try but tonight is too much." She looked over at Niall and Harry. "But I'm sure you don't need any help, with these, uh, men with you." Her mouth open with a giant smile.
My hand smacked my forehead,shaking my head. My cheeks burned hot, knowing they were red as my drink. Niall reached over me, snatching the drink, taking a huge gulp.
He drank the whole thing, banged it down on the bar, licked his red lips, "Don't worry babe. I'll get you another Red Ribbon."