♔Irreversible♕

I was a sheltered child. Because of my parents status, I went to the best school in Washington DC. By the time I was 5, I spoke German and Italian. Shortly after that, I learned Mandarin Chinese. I picked up Russian when I was 9. My parents sent me off to spend a year studying in France when I was 10. I quickly learned the language and was sent home after passing with no trouble.

I learned to play the piano and cello at a very young age. Music was the most enjoyable to me. It was the only time as a child where I was left to think. No teachers or parents. All I had to say was “I’m going to practice now.” and everyone around me would just leave me be.

Just like the other girls at my school, I took classical ballet and horse riding lessons. Two useless skills I’ll never use. Being a ballerina wasn't a “real” job and there was no way I was going to ride horses for a living.

I wanted to do more with my life. I wanted to sing and play music but that wasn't in the plan my parents had for me.

On the weekends, I went to charity events with my mother or had some sort of lesson. Free time was scarce in my family. We hardly ever ate dinner with each other unless we have guest over. Ironically, it seems like I’m an only child but I do have siblings. We just don’t talk about them. They are the family secrets that are hidden. Whenever asked, my parents just say that I’m the only child they ever had.

My brother Matthew, who is now 28, ran away when I was 5. He calls every year on holidays and my birthday. My sister, Maddalena, 25, she occasionally shows up on holidays. I never expect her to. She went to college in New York and never really came back.

“Do I really have to go to this thing?” I whined as my mother zipped my dress up.

She rolled her eyes and turned me to the mirror. She grinned from ear to ear as she fluffed the bottom of my dress.

“Now Melody,” mother started.”before every event you complain about having to go but when you get there, you always have fun.”

“Maybe when I was little these things were fun, but you should try being asked the same questions by people you don’t know. After the millionth time, it gets old.”

She rolled her eyes and left the room. I was serious about being asked a million times. Ever since I was little, people would try and set me up. As I got older, the more serious these people got. The night starts off with small talk and wine, followed by dinner where there is more wine. After dinner are the speeches about how great everyone is, then the last speaker ques the orchestra to start playing again and the dancing begins. Oh, don’t forget the wine. Typically around this time is when these “extremely buzzed but not drunk” women, who know me more than I know them, would start to prey on me.

In their most condescending voice ever, they would say:
“Oh my goodness!”

“Melody?”

“You’ve grown so much!”

“Your dress is beautiful!”

“Last time I saw you, you were up to here!”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“But you’re so pretty!”

“You should meet my (fill in son/grandson/nephew/best friend’s sister’s son’s name)!”

They call over their (fill in son/grandson/nephew/best friend’s sister’s son’s name) and they try and act as if we are perfect for each other. The boy is typically so embarrassed he can’t even make eye contact with me. The woman then gets distracted by wine or someone else they recognize so they insist on us keep talking. The boy then waits to be out of earshot of the woman who failed at introduce us, before he apologizes and slowly backs away.

When I was 13, I started keeping track on a napkin of how many times this encounter happened at each event. 45 is the most I’ve ever been introduced to potential “suitors”. I typically end up with a total of 12-15, depending on the event.

I sat down on the couch in my dressing room. I could hear my father and mother talking right outside the door.

“She might make a scene.” my mother worried.

“If she does, just have the agents quietly take her home. Tonight is a big night for me.” my father said calmly.

The door opened and my parents walked in holding hands. I might make a scene? Why would she say something so stupid? Just because I hate these events doesn't mean I’m going to act like an animal and embarrass the family name.

“If you’re going to talk about me, make sure you don’t stand right outside the door.”

My mother's eyes go really wide.

“Melody Christine, shape up now!” she demanded.

She fixed my dress one last time before handing me my clutch. I followed them as they glided across the stone floor. They were classy people. They had belonged to a group called The Georgetown Elite for 12 years now. It was a group of wealthy people who got together to brag about what they've been doing and how much money they’ve made since the last get together. Of course I was dragged along and had to sit through hours of training so that I could go to the Winter Gala. Between the ages of 18-23 is when your parents would decide if you were ready to go.

This shit show was created to pair wealthy people's children up with other wealthy children.

It was completely disgusting who they would pair you up with. You didn’t have a say who courted you. The guys would sit down with their parents and the head counselor would present them with a binder filled with young womens pictures. It was like they were picking out a horse to bet on.

“Oh well she can do this, this and this but SHE can do this, this, this and THAT!”

Sold to the highest bidder. Makes me sick.

The only reason we kept going to the group was because of my father. My father became a diplomat of the United States when I was 12. One day the men in black and all these new “neighbors” who we had never talked to before started showing up. When he was a senator, these people wouldn't give him the time of day but as soon as he had close ties to the President it was “Howdy ho neighbor!”

Being a senator's daughter was a hell of a lot easier because sneaking away didn’t take much planning. Now, even if I do get past my detail, I still have to find a way around the press, who were conveniently always outside parked on the street.

Always closely behind me were 2 of the men assigned to my security detail. When I was little, I never needed to have a detail because I was always by my mother's side. After sneaking away from my parents one too many times, they finally added more men to watch me.

My parents were ushered into one limo while I was put in an upgraded black Escalade with tinted windows. I was always put into a different car. Something about how if someone was to attack my father, they would go straight for the limo. Like how in the show The Blacklist, where the daughter gets taken and they strap a bomb to her. That’s what my father is afraid of. Anyways, back to this event.

We lived 10 minutes from the White House. They have always lived in Georgetown, I have always live here and I’m sure my parents always will. If I was asked what event I was going to, I honestly couldn't tell you.

I just knew my father had to wear a tux and my mother and I had to wear gowns. This meant that the President was most likely going to be there, along with other important people and their families. The car ride was completely silent except for the occasional agent checking in with the other cars.

“Miss H is on route. Miss H on route.” the driver said into his sleeve.

“Can I have a new code name?” I asked, leaning forward to the agent driving.

“Please sit back in your seat miss.”

I rolled my eyes and sat back. These guy always had sticks up their butts and never knew how to take a joke. We finally pulled up to the St. Regis. The agent in the passenger seat jumped out to open the door for me. I stepped out of the car and walked behind my parents like always.

I could hear the sound of classical music before I even got inside. My father shook hands with what seemed like everyone. We waited in line to greet the first family and take a picture for press. The President, the First Lady and their 3 children, Eddy, 20; Julia, 15 and Karen 5, all posed like statues for a picture.

We were shown to the main ballroom filled with people. My parents went in one direction while I went another. I walked past a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne and swiftly took a glass before he could realize I was under age. I chugged the glass and set it down on a random table.

I wandered around the room before finding a hallway that led to a powder room. I sat down on the circle couch in the middle of the room. I suddenly heard the faint sound of a single piano. I pushed the power room door open and started to follow the sound of the piano.

As I got closer to where the music was coming from, I took lighter steps so that I wouldn’t scare the pianist away. I came to the end of the long hall where there was a set of slightly ajar french doors. I pushed the doors open to reveal a large room with gold toned floors and walls. In the exact middle of the room sat a grand white piano. At it, a man sat with his back facing the door. He was wearing a white dress shirt and his hair was pulled back into a bun. The music was so beautiful and alluring. I smiled as the man played passionately.

“That was beautiful.” I blurted as soon as he finished.

He quickly spun around and stood up. He grabbed his suit coat from the top of the piano.

“How did you know I was in here?” he asked with a thick accent.

Out of nowhere he walked towards me, forcing me to back against the wall.

“I… I… I heard you. I was down the… the hall.” I stuttered.

He squinted at me and tilted his head.

“Do I know you?” I asked, making direct eye contact with him.

Without saying a word, he leaned in close, kissed me and left the room.

“What the… fuck?” I said, touching my lips.

I quickly pulled myself back together and chased after him. He looked back over his shoulder and then quickly turned into the ballroom. I followed closely behind. As I turned into the room, I noticed everyone was seated at their tables.

And by everyone, I mean EVERYONE.

He was already seated somewhere. I was like a deer in headlights. A majority of the room turned to look as I made my way over to my seat.

“Where have you been?” my mother asked, scolding me.

I was in a complete trance the entire dinner. My mother kept me by her side so that I wouldn’t run off. I was introduced to many boys but never him. My father had pulled my mother away to dance, I was left alone, sitting at our table.

“May I have this dance?”

I quickly turned around. It was him. He extended his hand.

“No.” I replied, turning back to the table.

He stood there completely shocked. He grinned and sat down next to me.

“Harry.”

“What?” I asked.

“My name is Harry.” he replied, extending his hand again.

I shook it hesitantly. He grinned and shook his head.

“What now?” I questioned.

“It seems like you’ve already made up your mind about me.”

“I don’t have much of an opinion of you.” I replied, crossing my arms.

“Well you must have something to do with that diplomat fella or you wouldn't have been sitting at this table all night.” he started. “So your last name is Hutson.”

“What if I’m not related to him?”

“Just tell me your name.” he leaned in closer.

“I’m not that easy.”

I stood up and started walking towards the middle of the room where everyone else was dancing. He sat, staring at me from the chair. I gestured for him to come to me. He stood up and walked slowly towards me. He stopped a foot in front of me. He smirked slightly and bowed to make. I curtsied back. We grinned at each other. He placed one hand on my lower back as I placed my hand on his shoulder.

We started to sway to the music.

I got completely lost in his eyes.

The song ended and everyone clapped for the orchestra. He slowly let me go.

“Come.” he said, grabbing my hand.

I let him pull me along.

“Melody!” my mother called after us.

He started moving faster. He looked back at me and smiled.

“Melody!” my mother yelled louder.

The room grew oddly silent as my parents rushed towards us.

“Stop!” my father yelled.

It was too late. We were out of the ballroom and running towards the elevator. The doors opened right as Harry pressed the button. We rushed inside, he quickly clicked the garage floor level along with all the other buttons to confuse whoever was searching for us. He let go of my hand.

“Melody.” he smiled.

“Call me Mellie.”

I smiled at my feet. Why was I acting so strange? I’ve never been this interested in someone ever.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Away from here.” he said as the door opened.

He pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket and clicked the unlock. A metallic black Porsche 918 Spyder lit up.

“Show off much?” I asked, as he opened the door for me.

“Oh so you’re telling me that you don’t have nice cars?” he joked.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head at him.

“You actually think they allow me to drive?”

He rolled his eyes and helped me into the car. He shut my door and got in on his side.

“They found us.” he said, starting the car.

I turned and looked over my shoulder. I saw my parents plus 10 agents running towards the car.

“Let’s go.” I said, nodding my head.

“You must be really important if they send this many people after you.”

Out of nowhere, the car was surrounded with men pointing their guns at Harry. My door flung open and I was pulled out. I kicked and screamed as they dragged me away.

“Do not touch her!” Harry yelled as a set of handcuffs were placed on his wrist. “You can’t do this to me!”

He was kicking and yelling just as much as I was. You could hear multiple agents telling him to calm down or they would have to use excessive force.

I tried to turn to run back to help him but they had a strong hold of my arm.

“You’re hurting me!” I screamed.

I heard Harry struggling harder. He started to cuss and make threats to the agents. A group of 5 different agents who I hadn’t seen before, burst into the garage and ran towards Harry.

“This man has diplomatic immunity, release him at once.” a man said, flashing papers in the officer's face.

As Harry was being released, a car pulled up and I was put inside.

“I’ll find you Melody!” he yelled. “I promise!”

Harry attempted chasing after the car but was stopped by an important looking man in a tux.

I leaned my head against the window as the city zoomed by.

The car pulled into the front gates and were quickly shut behind us.It was like I was a convicted murderer arriving in a maximum security prison.

One of the agents opened the door and gestured for me to step out. I sat completely still.

“Ma’am?” he asked.

I slowly looked at him and hesitantly stepped out of the car. I stopped halfway up the front steps and took of my heels. I decided at that moment to take off all of my jewelry and throw it in the bushes. Right as I was winding up to throw my shoes at the car that took me home, my mother came running out.

“Melody, those are designer! Don’t you dare throw those!” she screamed.

I turned back to look at her. A group of photographers ran up to the gate with their cameras ready.

“Or what?” I asked, turning back towards the car and throwing my shoes with all my might.

My mother was in complete shock. The press was in complete shock as they snapped a thousand pictures. I waved to the cameras then picked up the skirt of my dress so that I was able to walk without falling.

I glided right past her into the house.

I walked right past my father, even though he was shouting at me. I went right into the study and pulled down a red book. I had hollowed it out months ago and hid a lighter and a pack of cigarettes in it so that my parents wouldn’t take them away. I had also stashed my pipe and a small bag of pot in another book on the same shelf.

I pulled out a single cigarette and stuck it right in my mouth. I stuffed the pack down my bra and continued on with lighting my cig. I flicked my light and moved the flame to the tip. I took a long drag in and held my breath. Taking the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger, I threw the book on the floor and walked out of the study.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” my father asked, walking towards me.

“Going to the patio.” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“We don’t smoke on the property.”

“Correction, you don’t smoke on this property. I sure as hell do.”

Before I could turn away from my father to go up to my room, he grabbed my arm tightly. He glared into my eyes and got close to my face.

“Who do you think you are?” he growled.

“I’m Mellie. Who do you think you are?” I responded.

Out of nowhere, he quickly raised to hand as if he was going to hit me.

“Oh, so now you’re a women beater?” I asked. “Do it daddy, I dare you. The press with eat this shit up.”

He let go of my arm and put his hand down.

“That’s what I thought, coward. Have a good night.” I said, waving and walking up the stairs to my room.

Did he actually think he was going to hit me? He was a diplomat the fought strongly for the rights of women. He publicly has said that “there is no excuse for hitting a woman” and now he decides to try and assault me? I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it, leaving it lay on the floor outside of my room. I put out my cigarette on the middle of my door and let the waste on top of my dress.

My phone was left on my desk because my mother didn’t want me being distracted at the event. I grabbed it and clicked open safari.

‘H-a-r-r-’

Before I could finish typing, there was results:

‘Harry Potter’

‘Harry Styles’

‘Is Harry Styles prince?’

‘Does Harry have a girlfriend?

Well I could most definitely cross off Harry Potter. I clicked on the second result and a million results came up.

‘Harry Styles and new Bae?’

‘Harry in the USA!’

‘Newly single Harry Styles steps out in Washington DC!’

‘Harry Styles makes the top 10 hottest bachelors list of 2015!’

‘Harry Styles causing his father trouble? Photos here!’

I scrolled down and clicked the last link.

“Harry Styles, son of British diplomat Desmond Styles, caught fighting with dearest daddy? Sources say that Harry chased a dark car with government official plates before he was stopped by his father. Attendees of the event, held at the St. Regis hotel located a few blocks from the white house, said that they witnessed Harry and a young woman rushing out of the main event space causing quite the scene...”

I rubbed my eyes. I had met this guy who made my heart flutter only to be captured by my parents and thrown back into jail. Tonight was one of the best and worst nights of my life. I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

Notes

Hello lovelies!
I have no idea where this story idea came from but I have been sitting on it for a few months. I finally decided to start putting my thoughts into actual words, thus, Irreversible was born. I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! My goal is to post almost everyday, depending on what I have going on! Let me know what you think!

New chapter soon!
xoxo Å