The bass thumped, echoing off of the walls at Niall’s house party. There were people practically fucking out in the open, the floor sticky from spilled drinks, coke and weed being passed around like sweets, and there were so many girls. Too many. Too much choice. Of course, you were there too.

Daytona baby.

You and I had been hooking up on the low, I wasn’t sure how. You were the innocent new photographer for duplicity, too sweet for your own good, it fucking infuriated me. We absolutely hated eachother but somehow, you let me be the second person you’d ever slept with, and it didn’t stop there.

I hated your guts. But, was I gunna pass up on fucking a pretty girl? No.

Me and the lads weren’t just rockstars, we worked for the mafia, our band duplicity was just a cover up for our life of crime. You knew that. You had to stay because you signed a contract, meaning you had to be photographer for the entire eight month tour.

I didn’t do relationships. Didn’t do labels. All of that bullshit was ridiculous to me. You knew that, and had similar views because your only ex boyfriend treated you like shit.

I didn’t believe in love and neither did you.

Leant against the wall talking to Niall, my gaze caught a pretty blonde girl on the other side of the lounge. She was wearing, well, next to nothing. She looked unreal, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

She looked like the next hook up messily tattooed on my arm.

The conversation with Niall was quickly forgotten, I muttered a quick. “Be back in a minute, mate.” Before taking long, deliberate strides in the blondes direction, on my way over I spotted you. Watching me intently, I couldn’t read the expression on your face, and you were quickly forgotten.

Me and the blonde hit it off instantly, not emotionally, but physically. The sexual chemistry was off the charts, I was high as a fucking kite on coke and pretty drunk, so I probably could’ve flirted with a brick wall if I wanted to.

Not long after, me and the blonde, who I never cared to ask the name of, ended up in one of the storage rooms just off Niall’s hallway. She got bent over every surface in that room, sorry Niall.

Twenty minutes later, we walked out of the room, our clothes disbelieved and sweat dripped from our foreheads. Of course, you had to be walking through the hallway at the same time, your gaze raked over mine and the blondes disheveled appearance.

You looked pretty wasted, but you also looked… pissed off?

Surely not. We didn’t have a label. Hell, we didn’t even get along when we weren’t fucking.

You knew I slept around. Why would you be pissed?

“Coke and a cheap fuck?” You sneered, looking at my dilated pupils intently while you swayed slightly on your feet. I felt the blonde tense beside me. “What’s next, H, autographing her tits with a sharpie?”

A scowl formed on my face, lips piercing into a tight line. I’d never heard you speak so coldly to anyone, let alone me. I was furious, also confused as to why you sounded so bitter.

“Funny, coming from the girl who also spreads her legs for me without a second thought.” I retorted, just as coldly as you.