I stared in the mirror.

Black outlined eyes and red lips, a black dress hugging every curve, my breasts pressed so far up I fear they will slip. The hem of the skirt was so short, I dared not to bend over, in fear someone might take the advantage to slip right in. What I saw wasn't me, but a stranger. A whore. Just like my mother once was. Still is more than likely.

"You want to repay your debt? Do as I say."

The debt wasn't mine to pay. It was hers. It will always be hers, but I had my reasons to agreeing to such terms. I had my reason for dressing as the whore I am now and more than likely playing a worse reputation for myself later on tonight.But it will be worth it. It had to be worth it. As long as I got what I wanted and that bastard left me alone, us alone, it will always be worth it.

The soles of my feet were already sore as I walked up to the bouncer to Midnight Rouge, a club I've never heard of, nor really cared to remember. All I had to do was flash the sexiest smile and a bit of my cleavage and I was in.

"You got the looks. You got the figure. This shouldn't be a hard job for you you if you play your cards right."

Acting, it wasn't hard. Why most people found it so difficult, I didn't know. I vaguely remember my mother mentioning she was an actress, but then again I didn't have the heart to care. It was just another trait I didn't appreciate obtaining from her. Well, perhaps not. Without some of her traits, I don't think I could pull this night off.

I've already downed two drinks, the buzz settling in. My mood was getting darker, my body getting lighter as I found my way to the dance floor. Already hands were grabbing at me. I carelessly danced with the strangers around me, not in the least offended being groped on. I found my eyes scanning the club, they meeting with a familiar reflecting stare.

I could tell by his long stare he knew I was a newbie here. I could almost read his mind. I was creating a show and stealing the light away from him. It made him angry, it made him curious. What gull did this new girl have to simply stroll in here like she owned the place? What sort of power did she possess to cause every male in the building to want to take her in as their own?

He wanted her.

Whatever two girls were latched to his side and whispering sweet nothings into his ear got brushed off as the young man stood up, making his way to the dance floor where I was. Whatever few men were dancing with me were gone, leaving a small space between my new partner and myself.

He stared me down, his eyes gleaming at whatever priceless gem he saw. I could feel the lust radiating off him in a form of a heat wave. I let him take my hand, forcing me into a slow spin. The more he bore his eyes into me, the darker my mind got. I could see the easy smile lighting his face, obviously liking what he saw. A smile touched my lips, at least this boy was attractive. I will let him have his way, since that was all he wanted anyways.

It made my job easier.

* * *

He never asked for my name, who I was, or even asked why I was at his club tonight. Hell, the only words that came out of his mouth was, "Your place or mine?"

My answer of obvious.

In his drunken state, I was surprised he managed to park his car in the driveway without ramming it into the garage door. I had to unlock his front door, seeing how he'd always throw a laughing fit every time he dropped his keys. We made it up to his bedroom without much of a word. It seemed the moment we passed the threshold to his room, he became a man of business.

Lips crashed onto mine, a sloppy kiss being exchanged as fingers expertly unzipped my dress, letting it fall onto the floor. I let my mind run blank, as I knew it would do me no good to think twice about this moment. I had to be honest though, it felt good. I've only had sex with only one man before. It was a one night stand really, and my mind wasn't all there, so the whole virgin deal didn't necessarily apply to the given situation. This boy wasn't as big as his ego lead him on to be, but he easily made it up. He was one rough motherfucker.

It hurts.

Basically my whole body hurt, and I knew it would be worse by morning. Same goes for him. Tonight wasn't exactly gentle. I grabbed my phone, the shutter sound activating as I took pictures of the naked man and one other with myself in it.

I put my phone away as I stared at the boy one last time. Not once did he ask for my name, only caring to use me for his own selfish pleasures, guessing I was only doing him the same. In this drunken state, he wasn't going to be able to remember anything past meeting a pair of hazel eyes in the club, his soreness the next morning only to be explained by the heavy intoxication exhausting from the night before.

I closed the front door behind me, having enough courtesy to lock the door behind me. The heels of my shoes clicked as I walked from the driveway to the sidewalk. I stared at the house for one brief moment, waiting for some kind of emotion. A recoil of some sort, but wasn't sure what. Regret? Pride?

I felt nothing.

I started my trek home, my thoughts daring not to process tonight's line of events, but it did process one thing.

He was my first target, my first victim. The easiest out of all them.

Harry Edward Styles.

Notes

Okay, so new story obviously. I did have this chapter first titled as 'To Be, Or Not To Be' but after One Direction's new album released, I thought this title fit a little more.

So I've mentioned in other stories that my laptop has been having some issues, but no worries, new one is coming in soon! (so loving Christmas xox)

This story is a little messed up, and if you're confused, no worries, next chapter does clear some of it up. Enjoy what you can, while you can :)!