It was a pretty good day so far. Reagan had a great conversation with Harry before she had left, he had been home with her all week, and to top it off she had just gotten an A on her Communications midterm. But everything began to turn south after she had just gotten out from her class, and received a text from Kennedy stating:
Dad went to your place, had to drop off some stuff.
Reagan froze in the middle of the sidewalk. She hoped that Harry hadn't...no he wouldn't have opened the door for him, would he have? It was eleven, he should've gone home by now anyway. But knowing him, he wouldn't have. He would've stayed for as long as he possibly could. But for the love of God she hoped he hadn't.
Her parents didn't know that Harry had been staying over, and well, after the way things had gone down she sincerely doubted her dad would be understanding. It wasn't like Harry was living with her, at least not technically. So he slept over a couple of nights, wasn't it understandable considering they had just spent the last two months apart?
But ever since she had gotten back from Chicago, her father had been icing her out. Which, okay, was pretty weird because he had never done this to her. He had done it to Kennedy plenty, but Kennedy was the wild child. Reagan wasn't, never had been. And she didn't consider herself one either. Just because she had chosen what she had wanted to do for once shouldn't have implicated that she was "disobedient" or a "bad" daughter. Yet that wasn't the way her father saw it. The way that he saw it was that she had basically given up her career for a boy. That she couldn't have it all, it was either the boy or her job, and that she had obviously chosen wrong. She didn't think she had though, and for the first time, that was enough. Maybe that was mostly why he was ignoring her, because she didn't seem to be sorry about the choices she had made. And why should she be? The only thing she's sorry about right now was the fact that Harry wouldn't make it to dinner alive if he happened to run into her father.
She sighed loudly and looked at her watch, she figured that her father wouldn't stop by until he was on his lunch break anyway. She could be home in time and still go to her last class, at least she hoped so. She began walking again and took deep breaths, there was no use in fretting over it. Things would be fine, at least, that's what she tried to tell herself.
Also i wont be home til six, you think you guys can be late to take the heat off me?
Reagan sighed as her phone vibrated again, as if she didn't have enough to worry about.
meeting Louis after school
Okay, there were officially too many things Reagan had to worry about at the moment. She was going to disregard the Louis thing for now, but that was definitely a talk she and Kennedy would have to have again later.
Fine. We'll be there at 6:30.
Reagan sat down in her seat, waiting for lecture to start. She looked at the clock, willing it to go faster, praying that Harry wouldn't be there when her father stopped by. For once she just wanted things to work out in her favor, was that too much to ask?
Harry on the other hand, was for once feeling incredibly relieved about wearing clothes. Had it been any other day, he would've probably answered the door naked, and he wasn't quite sure how Mr. Bailey would've taken that seeing as he already looked like he was getting ready to murder him.
"Oh." Harry chuckled nervously trying to play off the tension, "You're not Reagan."
"Funny." Her father said, pushing Harry aside as he stepped inside the apartment, "Neither are you."
"Um, Mr. Bailey." Harry said, closing the door and walking behind him, "Mr-"
"Why are you here?"
"Why are you here!? And why are you shirtless!? The only name on this lease is my daughter's! Why are you here!?"
And just like that Harry knew that all hopes of being in this man's good graces were over. Not that he cared much. Well, he cared in the sense that he wanted to make Reagan happy, and he knew how much her family meant to her. But god, Mr. Bailey had done some really shitty stuff to Reagan, and as much he knew he had to respect him, he didn't want to. Not after everything he had put her though.
But that wasn't his place. So here he was, between a rock and a hard place, not really knowing how to respond.
"I um, I was cleaning." Harry said holding up his rag.
"Why are you cleaning my daughter's apartment!?"
"She had class?"
Mr. Bailey almost yelled in frustration at Harry's oblivious responses, Harry could tell that Mr. Bailey didn't know whether Harry was playing dumb or if he was really just that stupid. And admittedly, that's kind of right where he wanted him. He couldn't talk back to him, not technically, but he sure could frustrate the fuck out of him.
"You're him, aren't you?" James Bailey looked Harry up and down, "You're the pop star."
"Fancy you've seen me on the cover of a magazine?" He smirked.
"Now listen here," Mr. Bailey said, his voice eerily teetering on the edge of a furious yell, "You are not supposed to be here. This is my daughter's apartment. This is the apartment that I pay for."
"Do you...do you want me to pay for it?"
Mr. Bailey through the folder he had in his hands on the table next to them in frustration. When Harry wanted to play dumb, he truly could play the part well. Someone give this kid an Oscar.
"Tell Reagan I'll be speaking to her tonight." He looked Harry up and down, "And put on a shirt for christ's sake, you look like someone drew all over you." He said shaking his head.
Harry looked at his arms and chest, "What? Again?"
He was going to say something, but stopped himself. Instead Mr. Bailey turned and walked out the door.
"See you tonight at dinner!" Harry yelled before Mr. Bailey slammed the door behind him.
Okay, Harry was pretty pleased with himself at this point. Typically he liked making good impressions on parents, but that was kind of a lost cause with Mr. Bailey. He was pretty sure nothing was going to get him in his good graces after this incident, so why bother. And Harry wasn't about to lie either, he was pretty pleased with himself. He got James Bailey to leave without so much as a scratch on him, that was impressive. He didn't know Reagan's father personally, but he was pretty sure that if the roles were reversed, he would've knocked himself out. Obnoxious is what he was, but he got the job done.
He finished tidying up within ten minutes and finally gathered his stuff to leave, when his phone began to vibrate.
"Hello, love." He said as he grabbed his bag and keys.
"Please tell me my dad didn't stop by."
"So that's who that was."
"Oh, god. Harry."
"Yes, he stopped by, dropped something off for you."
"Did he talk to you?"
"We had a chat of sorts."
"Please tell me you were wearing clothes."
"Well the thing was-"
"I was wearing clothes, Rae, calm down."
"Oh for the love of god." She said, he could hear it in her voice that she was clearly freaking out.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm completely unharmed."
"Well, okay, thanks. I can see my safety was your top concern."
"I'm sorry, I just...this was one of those things I really wanted to avoid. Especially today."
"Everything happens for a reason."
He began to finally move towards the door, Reagan's keys in his hand, "Look, I'm going to head out and get ready. You want me to meet you at the studio? I can just deliver the paper work for you."
"I'll see you in a bit, love."
He hung up the phone and wearily smiled to himself. He was sure everything would be fine. If anything he could keep playing the aloof act, that seemed to wear Mr. Bailey down anyway. Dinner was going to be fun, that was for sure.