the one with daddy issues || h.s

Aurora Winston has a mysterious past about her, but anything that you can tell is that she screams tease. Her witty humor, curvy features, honey eyes, and caramel curls could send any boy screaming. Not Harry Styles though, he's tasted better. What happens when two players meet and their limits are tested to the edge?

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1. one

The music blasted through the old speakers, sending the crowds of people inside the bar dance even more.

Me, being only 5'2, got my way through the tight spaces, but I felt as if I was about to have an anxiety attack from all this chaos. I clearly did not fit into the whole dance club scene with my scuffed up converse and my dad's old ratty tennis sweatshirt. If anything, I look as if I was a 12 year old girl that somehow had snuck her in, along with my newly cut bangs that I decided to do on the bus ride here.

Girls with the cheap looking blonde color stared down at me, giving me glares. I could feel their claws on my back but I continued walking through the crowd of sluts, stepping on about ten girls' toes.

I reached my destination at the freshly painted black bar and I waited for one of the raunchy dressed girls to move. They all had drinks in their hands and a lipstick in the other. Most of the girls were crowded together with each other, flirting with any male that walked by in hopes for not spending a dollar on drinks. Their cleavage was clearly a vital component on attracting your average 'Joe Scmoh' in Portland. The funny thing is that all the rich business men were easily influence by the sign of skin, little did they know they were missing out on a whole different world in Manhattan. Those girls, made you scream for their stare. 

A girl with shiny black hair slipped off the the plastic red stool, her plasticky looking outfit squeaked as she made her way around the bar to the bathroom; probably on her way to throw up.

I ran to the seat and the first thing I noticed was that my boobs were right at the bar level. My hands frantically looked for the lever, pushing hard as possible so I wouldn't exactly scream pre-prubresecent teen. I kept hitting the small metal bar when a man put a hand on mine.

"Here, I've got it," he chuckles. Slightly startled because you know, we raise our daughters to beware men because they could hurt you instead of teaching boys that violence isn't okay from a young age.

He swiftly pumps the chair up, bringing me to a normal eye level. His sandy brown hair swifts to the right as he walks back behind the bar. The man puts his hands on the bar and gives me a warm smile.

"Hi, What can I get ya?"

I reach inside my shirt and his eyes widen as I pull out a folded yellow sheet. Due to his surprise, I smirk at my own stupidness and I decide to be a little bitch as I open it. I put it down on the table and slide it towards him and he grabs it with his hands to bring it closer to his face. 

He gives me a side glance before reading it, "It's dark in here, one second."

"Loo-ooking for new bar-tender/waiter, room and boa-," he tilts his head back, "Fuckin' hell! HARRY!"

The man is filled with angst and furrows his brows looking for this fellow. He walks over to the suspected 'Harry' behind the bar, they're dressed in the similar black shirt, but Harry has black skinny jeans. Harry has his elbows on the bar, a hand on some red head with a metallic shirt on. He's then grabbed by the boy that helped me over to where I am and shoves the flyer in his face.

"Seriously mate?"

"We need the rent money!" 

"But fucking Halley just broke up with me last night! Her shit is still in there!"

"Dude, the money would help us out tremendously."

Harry pushes the paper out of his face and looks at me and laughs.

"I didn't know we started letting twelve year olds in the bar." His lips is pierced along with his brow, giving off an Andy Biersack vibe. I'd almost say he was attractive with his brown curls, but the shit he was talking was spewing from his mouth which was quite disgusting.

"At least I'm not covered in holes."

I even cringed at this.

"Oh God, Princess, don't make it worse for yourself. Ashton, who gave you the flyer." 

Ashton gestures towards me, smiling a bit. Harry looks as if he's been socked in the throat, "You want a job here- also to live with two men, are you positive? Are you even over 18?"

"21 in two days."

"Princess you have to be 21 to handle alcohol, so you can't work here."

Ashton ticks his tongue, "Harry, she can stay upstairs for two days, it's not like you'll die."

He looks at Ashton and tilts his head, "Just the other moment you were peeing your pants because I put up fliers for work."

He then turns to me and hands me back the flier, then looks at my duffle bag, "Is this all you have? Where the hell did you come from?"

"Manhattan."

"So you don't have a fucking place to stay right?"

I put a hand on my neck and shook my head. Ashton looked at Harry and was returned with him squinting his eyes still him finally giving up.

"You can stay in our extra room till we have everything settled, this doesn't mean you fucking have the job yet."

Harry then leans in and whispers in my ear, "Careful Princess, some boys don't play that nice."

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