"Hurry up, will you, Anastasia? Your lobster is getting cold!"

"Miss Levin?" a hesitant knock sounded from from the other side of the plywood door, "I'm sorry, but - your mother really would like you to come to dinner - please?"

"Just a second, Celia," I called, reluctantly standing up from my window seat, hitting 'send' on a text in response to Sadie, confirming that I would in fact meet her later tonight. I swung open my bedroom door, facing my 'maid' Celia. She was far more of a mother to me than my actual mother was, though she worked as a member of staff within the house - my mother specifically hiring her to 'guide me' through my young adult life - despite working for us for almost a year - she'd yet to drop the 'Miss Levin' and call me by my actual name.

"Miss Levin, your mother is surely throwing a fit by now," she sighed, her heavy British accent making me giggle, as she adjusted her god awful uniform that Mother insisted they all wear.

"It's Ana, Celia," I corrected her, sending her a wink, "And what did I tell you? Us Americans prefer 'losing her shit'." I walked past her, sending her a sweet smile as she forced herself to gasp at my foul language, though I knew she didn't really mind - it was simply protocol.

"I'm here," I announced, sending a nod towards my father as I took my seat at the end of the table. He shot me a smile, turning his attention back to his plate. I looked over to my mother, ignoring her glare as I now focused on my own plate. Lobster and potato salad. Another day of this 'pescatarian diet' I suppose.

"You're late, Anastasia," my mother scolded, as another member of staff rushed forward to fill my champagne glass, "Say hello to our guests."

I looked over to the other side of the table, yet to meet whichever snobs we'd be sharing dinner with this evening, "I'm Ana," I smiled politely, though I don't receive one in return.

They introduce themselves as Carol and William Peterson, and all I do is nod in response. I push my lobster around my plate with my fork, wrinkling my nose. I hate fish. My mother knows this, yet - she finds great pleasure in requesting it from the chef. It must've been weeks since I'd had a good burger, fuck. I could feel my mouth water at the thought of a juicy burger, my senses tingling.

"Anastasia," my mother said sharply, causing me to snap out of my fantasy, "Answer when you're spoken to, please."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" I cleared my throat, smoothing down my white laced dress.

"I asked what your plans were for the future," Carol spoke, a tone of annoyance prominent.

"O-Oh - my future," I stammered, unsure of how to answer such a demanding question, "I haven't really planned that yet," I said honestly, cutting a potato with the side of my fork and putting the piece in my mouth.

I watched a disapproving look grow on the face of Mrs Peterson, her disgust with my choice of words quite evident.

"Ana will be attending Harvard University," my dad spoke up from the other end of the table, shooting me a reassuring smile.

No, I fucking won't.

"I'd like to major in History," I lied, my mother shooting me a look, which I knew was directed in a way to tell me to sit up straight. I did so, simply to avoid any further displeasure on her behalf.

Truth is, I had no clue what I'd like to do - I wanted nothing from this family, that was for sure. My parents were very formal and slightly patronizing when it came to business - both of them desperate for me to pursue a career and maintain their wealth. As much as I was grateful for everything I had - I didn't want it for myself.

Twenty minutes later, I was finally excused from dinner, and a dreary conversation with the Peterson's.

"Curfew's in an hour, Miss Levin," Celia called, knocking before entering my bedroom. She walked over to the window, slamming it shut and bringing out the key to lock it.

"Oh - Celia, would you mind leaving it unlocked? It gets pretty stuffy in here overnight," I lied, closing my laptop and sitting up on my bed.

Celia shot me a knowing look, "I'm not silly, Ana, I know it's the last night out before senior year starts," she smiled, causing me to bite back one of my own.

"At least you got my name this time."

"I have a son of my own, you know," she raised an eyebrow at me, folding the wet towel I'd discarded on the floor earlier and forgotten to fold, "I know how your teenage minds work."

I moved a piece of hair from my shoulder, "I didn't know you had a son."

"Yes, darling, a son and a daughter, but my Haz is your age," she told me, sending me a smile, "He doesn't go out much, so I'll say I've been quite lucky not to have a teen as rebellious as you, but - then again - I'm sure if my boy came from a family like yours then he'd act no different."

I chuckled, "So was he born here?" I asked, now suddenly curious.

"No, no - back in Manchester, pet. We moved here a few years after his dad and I split; poor lad was only eleven or twelve," she sat down on the edge of my bed, and I nodded, keen to hear her open up for the first time since she'd got here.

"What's he like? Your son?" I asked quietly.

Celia sighed, shaking her head, "He's angry at the world."

I frowned, "Angry? Why?"

"I wish I knew. He just hates everyone, everything - I'm lucky if I get a word out of him nowadays."

"I'm sorry, Celia. That really sucks."

"Yeah," she smiled sadly, standing up from my bed, "It really does suck."

I watched her as she walked over to the window, shifting it open a little and slipping the key into her pocket.

"Don't stay out too late, Miss Levin," she sent me a wink, gently shutting the door behind her.

I smiled to myself, grabbing my phone to read the time - 9:30. I groaned - I wouldn't have time to change. I slipped my vans on, grabbing my oversized denim jacket from my chair that my mother hated so much. "You look common," she'd told me when she'd first seen it on me, causing me to save it for when I went out with my friends after dark - another thing she hated so much; my friends from school.

A white lace dress - luckily it only skimmed my thighs - an oversized jacket, and some vans? An odd combo, but it would have to do. I slid the window open, slipping my phone into my pocket and climbing out of the frame, weaving my way to the floor. I pulled my jacket tightly around me, the cool night air nipping at my skin as the wind blew, and I caught sight of Sadie's car.

Sadie had been my best friend since middle school, and since high school, my mother certainly hadn't been her biggest fan. She drank, did every drug you could name, but - she was my friend, and she stuck by me.

"Hey, sexy," she grinned as I slipped into the passenger's seat.

"Hey," I returned, "Where are we going?"

"There's this old bar a couple blocks away - doesn't check for IDs or anything - literally will serve a fuckin' drink to anyone on legs," she beamed, pulling off down the street.

"Awesome," was all I said in reply as she drove wildly down the street, almost taking out a few street lamps on the way.

We pulled up outside a dimly lit building on the corner of the street, jumping out of the car in unison. We walked into the bar, Sadie unzipping her leather jacket and sliding it off her arms. Our group of friends erupted into cheers at our arrival, causing me to laugh.

"Oi oi! Party's here!" Louis called as I took a seat between him and Jake. There were a few faces I didn't recognise, but I took note of Kaylee, Rachel, and Dylan, too. Louis was one of my closest friends - beside Sadie, he'd been so sweet since I'd arrived in Seattle. He was good looking - there was no point in denying it - and when I'd first arrived in Seattle, you could've said I had a small crush on him. Just a little one.

Only minutes later I had a drink in my hand, and I was already up swaying to the music. The night carried on that way, dancing and drinking, but I began to nurse my third drink - a hangover would not be so easy to play off on the first day back to school tomorrow.

Jake kept trying to wrap his arms around my waist, which I had to continuously shrug off, along with other attempts to press his lips to my neck, I shoved him away, as my friends laughed along.

"God, Jake, you are such a sleaze," I groaned, shoving him away from me again, "I'm gonna go get some air," I announced, heading towards the door.

I stepped outside, immediately inhaling deeply, the air fresh as it hit my lungs. Rain was spitting down, and I wrinkled my nose - I didn't like the idea of getting drenched, but since it was only light, I decided to pursue my walk. I left my drink on a bench, taking slow strides down the street as I continued to breathe in the night air, tugging my jacket tighter around me.

I crossed the street, stuffing my hands in my pockets and grabbing my phone. 12:15. Happy Monday.

I groaned internally, continuing to wander as I cursed myself for wearing such a short dress. It was fucking freezing, fuck.

"Cold?" a voice sounded from beside me, and I jumped, spinning around and squinting in the darkness to see where the voice had come from, my frown deepening.

The street lamp was the only thing enabling me to see who was before me; sitting on a step of four was a guy - a guy of about my age with unruly curls framing his face - his face defined, his bone structure sharp, and his eyes a piercing green, appearing far darker in the lighting. He was wearing a black woolen jumper, black skinnies, and brown boots, a bandana in his hair, and a cigarette between his lips.

"Freezing," I answered truthfully, as I walked over to where he sat and took a seat beside him without an invitation.

"What are you doing out here alone?" he spoke again, his voice raspy - his accent making it clear he wasn't from around here.

"I could ask you the same thing," I retorted, pulling my jacket tighter around me. I was shivering.

He took another drag from his cigarette, the rain now falling heavier onto the steps, splashing up onto my bare legs, "What's it to you?" he cocked his eyebrow, running his thumb over a tatted book that lay in his lap.

I tilted my head to the side, reading what I could from the spine of the book, "Wuthering Heights," I read, "sounds like a drag."

"It isn't," he said sharply, bringing his cigarette back between his lips, clearly unimpressed by my distaste for his classic.

"So you read?"

"Clearly."

"What else do you do?"

"I smoke," he stated matter-of-factly, waving the burning cigarette between his fingers as it now began to pour.

"How do you smoke in the rain?"

"It's a talent of mine," he smirked, taking a final drag and dropping the cigarette to his feet, stamping it out.

"Shouldn't we move?" I frowned, signalling to the rain that was pouring down at an extreme rate, completely drenching my hair, now.

"I dunno, should we?" he fired back smartly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Do you have a name?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?"

"Only when necessary," I grinned, rubbing my hands up and down my bare legs, "Tell me your name."

"I'm Harry," he said coolly, moving his damp curls from his face, licking his lips, "Harry Styles."

"Ana-"

"Ana Levin, I know," he cut me off, pulling another cigarette from his pocket. He handed me one, which I took hesitantly.

"How do you know my name?" I frowned.

"I haven't been living under a rock," he scoffed, raising his lighter to my cigarette and lighting it. He leant over to me, his cigarette between his teeth as he lit his own from mine, inhaling easily. I hesitantly brought mine between my lips, attempting but failing to inhale, ending up in a coughing fit.

Harry smirked across at me, clearly finding amusement in my incapability to smoke the way he did. My friends were constantly smoking, but the idea had simply never appealed to me.

"Seriously," I coughed once more, trying to play it off as clearing my throat, "How do you know who I am?"

"Everybody knows who you are, Miss Levin," he said, a glint prominent in his eye, "Your dad is the richest man in the state, your mother is doing just as well, and you have so many maids that you probably have one to kiss your feet goodnight."

"It's not like that," I argued weakly, though I knew it was - not the whole feet thing, but - the rest was completely true.

He took another smoke, "Not to mention that you're the most popular girl in school."

"Do we go to the same school?" I raised my eyebrows, suddenly feeling like a bitch for not noticing Harry before.

"Maybe - how else would I know that people would bloody kill to be your friend?"

"That so?"

"Mm, it is. I should ask for a picture, or something," he grinned cheekily, moving his soaking hair from his face.

Thunder sounded from around us, and I was now so incredibly soaked that my clothes were sticking to my skin. I sighed, tugging at the wet lace of my dress.

"Can't you get one of your maids to press that, or something?" he teased, droplets forming on his skin.

"Oh, shut up," I groaned, fiddling with the lace of my shoe, before a shout sounded from behind us.

"Ana! We're gonna bounce, c'mon!" Sadie's voice sounded from the doorway of the bar, and I sighed, visibly cringing a little.

"That's my cue."

"Bounce?" Harry smirked again, showcasing his amusement, something he seemed to do a lot, "You go do that."

I stood up and so did he. He held his book tightly, now completely soaked as the rain remained relentless, his curls stuck messily to his forehead.

"I'll see you in a few hours, then," I said, dropping my wasted cigarette and stamping it out.

"You will, indeed," he blew out some smoke, and with that he spun on his heel and took off down the street.