Underneath / H.S / AU

"I'm broken and all of the pieces of me are scattered. I think you're the only one who can find them and put them back together. And I can do the same for you."

I could see the pain I was causing her but I couldn't help it. If it escalates farther I know that I will ruin her like I do everything else.
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If only she could see the tortured man who was terrified of losing her buried underneath the hardened exterior.
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Maybe then she would love me.

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7. // s e v e n //

 

 

 

CAST LIST: 

One Direction as themselves

Cara Delevingne as Noelle Wynters

Madelaine Petsch as Aubrey Bordeaux 

Dylan Sprayberry as Jaxon Wynters

Lilly Collins as Camilla "Millie" Hinton

 

 

 

            “Where have you been?”

 

            Aubrey is sitting on the couch in my flat, letting herself in yet again. Her reddish brown hair shines as the sunlight creeps its way in. Trying to evade the harsh light, I realize that I really should stop putting a key in the pot of the ficus just outside my door. But right now, I’m too hungover and hazed to care.

 

            “Um, out.” I feel it’s best to keep it vague.

 

            "This is so a walk of shame right now!” She gloats, setting the magazine she was flipping through down on the coffee table. She saunters over to me, the sound of her heels hitting the tiled floors resembles bombs. She takes my bag off of my shoulder for me and sets it down on top of the magazine. Resuming her place on the couch she continues, “So spill, who’s the lucky guy?”    

 

            I’m not sure whether or not I should lie. Either way, this is not a decision that I should be making standing up so I collapse next to her and let myself sink into the cushion. I prop my feet up on the table and ultimately regret it as the end of my stiletto clanks against the glass. The sound rings throughout my ears.

 

            Pinching the skin above in between my brows, I figure that I should tell her the truth. There’s too much that she doesn’t know about me and I don’t have the energy to think up another lie. “Harry Styles,” I mutter so low that it sounds like ‘Hayster.’

 

            "Who?” She presses.

 

            “Harry Styles,” I say again this time with more attitude. His name has a bitter taste in my mouth. I watch her as her jaw hangs open in shock but then twists into a wicked smile.

 

            “No way! The celebrity?” She shrieks while I nod my head slowly. I don’t see what the big deal is since she knows a little of what it’s like to be a ‘celebrity.’ Not like we’re well known or have as much recognition as a guy like Harry but it’s still all the same to me. We’re all just people, after all. When she sees I’m not responding she adds, “You know, I shouldn’t even be saying anything to you because I was with his best friend.”

 

            So that was the guy I remember her dirty dancing with. I wonder which one it was, if I remember correctly there were two of them and I do remember there were two guys with Harry at the shoot yesterday. Still, I commend Aubrey. She has no shame when it comes to discussing her sexual escapades; she’s so open about everything and I envy that about her.

 

            Sure, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands but it’s not really something that I take pride in. Besides those days were from way back when I was in America, my senior year of high school. That was the year my mother really fell off the wagon. She had been a wreck the day that father had walked out, but it became worse once the child support checks ended as soon as I turned eighteen. She began allowing the water to get cut off for a month, then the next month she would pay the water bill but allow the electricity to shut off. It was a vicious cycle that repeated until Jaxon discovered the business of marijuana selling. That was his way of rebelling and I think I became promiscuous as mine. After that stage of my life ended and I moved out here however, I kept my relationships to a minimum. Nothing was ever too serious and I didn’t mind it, it’s not like I had time to devote myself to another person.

 

            Aubrey sighed in amusement. “Wow, Harry Styles. I never would have pinned him as your type.”

 

            "What do you mean by that?” I challenge.

 

            “He’s a glorified douche who attracts a lot of attention, that’s all. I know you’re not into either of those things.”

 

            She’s right. I hate guys who are full of themselves and it’s always been my life goal to remain invisible. That became sort of impossible when I signed up to have my picture taken and advertised everywhere but I was only in it for the money. But still, something about the way she said it made me want her to be wrong.

 

            Not like I wanted Harry to be my type or anything, but I wanted to be someone else; to reinvent myself. Into someone who wasn’t so afraid of being noticed and didn’t always opt for the safe, nice guy. Bad boys can have their perks, even though I know that in the end it could never work out. But I’m still young and it's not like I'm looking to become tied down to anybody just yet. So why not venture out and find a wild and exciting bad boy for myself?

 

            "Yeah, I don’t think this will be happening again,” my words oppose my thoughts as attempt to unbuckle the straps of my heels.

 

            “Right, I’ll let you catch up on some rest. We have another shoot tomorrow and it’s a bikini one. Supposed to be even hotter out,” she sighs contentedly. Aubrey loves the hot weather and humidity and she'll take any excuse she can get to prance around in bikinis and undergarments.

 

            As soon as she exits and retires to her own flat, I reach under the couch and grab a textbook. If I'm going to be out all of tomorrow I really should catch up on this homework.

 

            What are the two types of alveolar cells and their functions?

 

            I groaned; this was going to be a long day.

———————————————————————————————————————

            I’m awakened by Aubrey’s claws digging into my shoulder as she shakes me back and forth.

 

            “Noelle, we're going to be late!”

 

            I push the pillow out from under me and place it over my head to muffle her voice. She quickly removes it and I open my eyes slowly. Her face is bare but still glowing and her auburn hair is pulled into a tight bun.

 

            I ask in a raspy voice, “Why are you here?”

 

            “I know you don’t have your phone so I figured that you needed a personal wake up call,” she explains.

 

            Wait, what? I don't have my phone? Where is it? I could’ve sworn it was in my clutch from the previous day and I just hadn’t bothered to take it out so that it couldn’t distract me from my studying. Then again, I was dazed all day from my horrible hangover so I could be wrong.

 

            Seeing that I’m still confused, she continues, “Harry called me from your phone. You left it at his place.” She raises an eyebrow and I can tell that she’s loving this. I grumble in frustration as I force myself to get up.

 

            As I gander my horrific appearance in the mirror, I ask her, “Why would he call you?” It came out ruder than I had intended.

 

            “Actually, I called you around four times to wake you up and then on the fifth call, I got an answer,” She laughed at the memory and finished her story, “he was all like ‘what?!’ And I was like, ‘you’re not Noelle?’ And he was like, ‘no shit, she left her phone here and I had no way of contacting her.’ And then just to be a bitch I said, ‘and who exactly is this?’ He was so pissed that he hung up on me!” She bursted into a fit of hysterics and I gaped at her, wondering how the hell this was funny.

 

            "Aubrey how am I supposed to get it back?” I yelled, pleading for her to come to her senses and realize that I have no way of retrieving it.

 

            “Calm down grumpy pants, I texted and told him to meet us at the shoot today. You’re welcome,” she taunts. I hope she knows that she is doing me no favor here. I was hoping to get it back without having to actually have contact with him. Then again, this does seem like the type of job that an assistant would take care of so maybe I shouldn’t worry. I’m sure he has tons of those at his disposal.

 

            I glide over to the closet, pulling my favorite Ramones sweatshirt over my head and don’t even bother brushing my hair. I'm going to be spending hours in hair and makeup anyway so I’ll just leave it for now. In less than five minutes, we’re out the door and on our way to Big Ben.

 

 

A/N: hope you liked! kinda a filler chapter but i'll upload the next one now bc I love you all :)<3

 

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