What's up, homie?

Driving alone is one of the few things that I love to do while I'm still alive.

I mean, I'm not a very religious person, but if hell does exist, I have plans to make my own kind of fun there after I leave the mortal realm.

Lucifer seemed kind of hot based on the illustrations that I've seen: sculpted body, unecessarily cruel, a bad boy, and a boss.

What could be hotter than that?

If I do end up in hell someday, I want to see if he really is as good at seduction as Christianity credits him to be.

We'll see.

Peeking my head out of the window of my car, I tried to see ahead of me as I listened to Taylor Swift at an unnecessarily high volume. Based on Google Maps, I'm not that far from the direction that Zayn has given me. I think I've been on this specific route before, but I can't quite remember the exact details.

Screw my short-term memory, I thought to myself

Getting back the car, I continued my drive until I saw the landmark. I immediately drove towards it and saw the dense parking lot in the distance. Turning my music off, I made my way there and parked my car in the nearest spot that I laid my eyes on.

After that, I got off my vehicle and made my way towards the entrance of the bar, which was facing the parking lot from the east.

The line was extremely long, but almost all the guys that were there offered to let me get in front of them.

This is one of the perks of being hot.

One look at people and I'd be ahead.

It didn't take me long before I was at the front of the line. The bouncer doesn't even have to look at me twice to make me confirm my name.

"Sabrina Monroe, isn't it?" He asked, eyeing me up and down.

I nodded my head at that.

Zayn probably told him.

"Yes," I answered. "I'm here for Mr. Harold." I added.

"Of course, ma'am— welcome." He smiled, motioning for me to come in.

Smiling back, I followed the lit pathway until I reached the door of the bar. It was crowded as hell, and it was probably a very busy night for the people who work there.

Even though I'm wearing high heels, I still have to tiptoe just to see ahead of me. This is one of those times when I wish that I was just a little taller.

Irritated, I just blended with the crowd and pushed every individual that was blocking my way until I was washed up on one of the bar counters, where I fortunately found Zayn

Finally! I thought to myself.

Walking up to him, I took off my leather jacket, leaving my upper body in the white tank top that was under it.

The temperature here is scorching, and as much as I would like to feel what hell really is like, I don't want to be a sweating mess by the time that I'm in front of Zayn.

Apart from that, I just don't want him to see me in a not-so-hot way.

As weird as that sounds.

"Hey, Zayn," I said, coming from behind him.

His head was drawn downward, and on his side was a shot of a seemingly strong liquor.

Squinting his eyes, he looked up at me and motioned me to sit next to the other stool.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Does it look like I drink?" I asked him back.

Sitting back straight, Zayn roamed his brown eyes around my body without speaking.

"Will you be offended if I say no?" He spoke without taking his eyes off me.

I smirked at that.

"It depends on how you see that," I said, making him hum in response.

"You may seem innocent, but I know you're not that innocent," he stated, scooting closer to me through the island. "You're deceiving." He added, biting his bottom lip.

If he's not flirting with me right now, he better be. Because the next thing that I will be doing after this will be nothing but flirtation.

Standing up from the stool, I walked over to him and had one of his arms wrapped around my waist.

Now this is what I call comfortable.

"And you fell right into that reception," I whispered in his ear.

"Now you're starting to get it," he replied, moving his hand up and down my bare waist. "This is going to look so good as a PR." He added, whispering the last two letters in my ear.

I don't know what the fuck went on in my head before that, but it caused me to giggle.

Something that I almost never do.

Clearing my throat, I loosely tangled my arms around his neck and leaned my chin on his head.

"Man, I wish that Sabrina Carpenter and Shawn Mendes weren't in this PR thing," I said as he continued to stroke my waist gently. "I've been shipping them both forever." I added, making him chuckle.

This is the most comfortable that I've been with him since the day that we meet, and I know that I shouldn't feel good about this.

I've came here to destroy him, and not to share affection.

His father killed my family, and I've promised to do every single thing that my entire being could do just to make him feel what his father made me feel all these years.

As an adult, I'm still longing for the presence of my mother, my father, and my siblings.

But unfortunately, I would never be able to do the very simple things that I wanted to do with them.

They're all dead.

Nothing could bring them back to life now.

"Do you like Sabrina Carpenter?" He asked, looking up at me, making me snap out of my thoughts.

I reluctantly nodded my head at that.

"How else would I know the tea if I don't t?" I said with a shrug, letting go of my shred of thoughts for a few seconds.

I'll think them through later.

"The internet, babe," he hummed. "You don't have to like someone to know what's going on with their life." He added, pushing my hair to my back.

Well, he does have a point.

The internet pretty much have everything now.

"I love her. I'm a sucker when it comes to her music. I like to shout the chorus of because I liked a boy in traffic shamelessly," I said honestly.

"Oh, the 'I'm a homewrecker, I'm a slut' part?" He asked in a sing-song pattern.

I've never giggled twice in front of a guy before, but Zayn just broke that record.

He's got to stop with these lines or else I'll be mistaken for the missing sweet girl when the sun rises tomorrow.

"Yes," I answered.

My music taste is something that I've always been proud of but on certain occasions, I have to lie about it.

Those tough people can't know that I like to pretend to be Sabrina Carpenter or Taylor Swift at three in the morning when I couldn't sleep.

They just can't.

"But don't you dare tell anyone or else I'm going to carve your intestines out and use it as an ornament for my living room." I threatened, looking at him dead in the eye.

"Of course, darling," he laughed, standing up from the stool, still holding me by the waist. "Now let's get out of here; it's getting late. I haven't even asked you about Maya yet— now I feel like a terrible dad." He added, faking a disappointed expression.

I was about to giggle at another one of his remarks again, but something saved me this time.

"Oh, you will be after not being able to check on your little girl tonight," a familiar voice said from behind us. "You'll stay at my place tonight. The one that you two messed up, remember?" He added menacingly, making shivers run down my spine.

I gulped at that.

I'm grateful that he saved me from giggling to one of Zayn's unfunny remarks like the angel that possessed my body today, but I know that I'm not going to be grateful for the things that he might do to me— or to us after this.

Taking a deep breath, Zayn gave me a look, and we turned around together.

I've always been a brave soul, but when I saw that it wasn't just him who was after us, I immediately took off my armor and ran away from battle like a coward.

This night won't be good.

"Hey, Mike," I greeted like a nervous cat. "What's up, homie?"