Gypsy stares at her hummingbird beneath the neon lights outside of Rockstar.

"I love it," she told Nicki, who yes, turned out to be as great as Justin had promised. The bird wraps slightly around her forearm with the majority of its little head and wings settling on the inside of her wrist. "I love it, I love it, I love it," she said. "Thank you."

Gypsy did not think she could be so happy with a tattoo.

"What'd we say?" Justin chuckles, licking his lip with a smile. "What the hell'd we say?"

"Sounded like you were wimpering like a little baby in there, mate," Matty grins as the threesome wait for Harry to finish using the toilet and for Matty's friend George to finally finish up his last customer and get off work.

Gypsy turns to Justin and purses her lips, "When did you have a reason to cry?"

"Umm, quite possibly when you squeezed the fucking crap out of my hand, Gypsy," Justin retorts because about fifteen minutes in he was gasping with exclamations of, "Like, holy shit, Gyps," and "How goddamn strong are you, like, shit?"

"Well, it hurt!"

"Like my broken fingers? Okay."

"Needles are-"

"Waaay less scary than you; remember that."

Gypsy replies by sticking out her tongue. "You don't know my pain, Ken," she smiles as Justin flips her off. "You can't tell me that it didn't hurt because, ahem, it did."

"Only before Nicki put that numbing cream on you," Matty tuts as if she's forgotten. "Didn't hurt much after that, yeah?"

Gypsy stares at her tattoo beneath the wrapping of cream and plastic protecting it. "No," she replies honestly, because Matty did fulfill his promise and come watch her get inked with George trailing behind him. Gypsy found that she liked George. "It didn't."

"Told you," Justin says. "Psycho."

Gypsy ignores this, and she continues to stare at her beautiful little bird on the inside of her arm. The longer she looks the more she likes.

"Holy moly, guys," she laughs, throwing her head back and letting her laugh filter through the heat, "Holy Jesus I have a freaking tattoo!"

She laughs again and her eyes are shining. "Do you know that my mom would have definitely laughed in my face if I'd have ever asked her to get one? Do you freaking know that?"

Matty smiles, "Now, where's the fun in doing what you're told?"

Harry emerges from Rockstar and per usual, he dives right into the conversation. "Where's the fun in what?"

Gypsy laughs again, "Never in my life would I have been able to do this had my parents been home," she sighs out. "I wouldn't have. Never, ever, ever, ever, never."

Matty grins, flicking his lighter on and off and on again. "Can't tell if that's a good thing or if we're close to getting you into trouble."

"Nah," Harry says, "we're good influences, yeah?"

"Uh huh..." Gypsy replies absentmindedly. She's tilting her arm, staring at her little bird. God, what is her mom going to say once she sees this?

Gypsy can't wait to show this to the boys, she thinks. YOLO, right? God, Cal's gonna-

"So, where are we going next?" Justin asks, pushing himself from against the wall of the tattoo shop. "What's next on that list, Gyps?"

"What do you mean?" Gypsy asks. She does not have time to mentally berate herself for taking her thoughts back to Calum-somehow or another, he's been seeping into her mind lately when she least expects to find him there.

"It's," Justin checks his watch, "it's like, barely 12, Gyps."

"He's right," Matty nods. "Night's still young, sweets."

"But-"

"Look," Harry pokes her cheek, "she's so excited she can barely speak."

Justin is looking around, "What else do you wanna do?"

"Uh-"

Truth be told, Gypsy has no idea what she'd like to do because she fully expected to find herself back in bed nursing a sore arm after getting her tattoo. She completely did not think she'd find herself standing outside of a popular tattoo parlor called "Rockstar" waiting for one of Matty's best friends to get off work so they can go "party."

"I think the question is," Justin says with a smirk that makes her stomach clench-where the hell is this going?-"What else can we cross off tonight on that list?"

And that's when Harry's face lights up beneath the neon. "I know where we should go."

"Where?" Gypsy gasps at the same time as Justin.

Harry sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs coolly. "A place not far from here. One of my best mates' a bartend-"

"Harry," Gypsy interjects, "this isn't London. You do realize that not one of us is twenty-one, right?"

"Beg your pardon, love," Matty begins, "I'm well over twenty-one; so tonight, I'll probably be the one bailing you lot from jail."

"We aren't going to get arrested," Harry scoffs.

"I'd better not get arrested," Gypsy huffs.

"I don't know," Justin grins, "that's definitely something you've never done before, right? Ready to cross off number nine, too?"

"Okay, shut your stupid face, Justin."

Harry shakes his head, "Right, so back to the bar-"

"Harry," Gypsy exclaims, holding out her arms and looking up and down her Sleeping with Sirens/jean short ensemble, "Look at me! I'm not even going to be able to get into a bar, okay?"

Justin laughs aloud, "Gypsy, it isn't a nightclub," he rolls his eyes because god she needs to get out more, "It's a bar."

Harry is biting his lip, "Well-"

But Gypsy is too busy making faces at Justin. "Okay, shut up," she retorts. "It's not like I've never been to a bar, before, okay? I'm not a kid," she says and wonders why she has to keep repeating that phrase.

"So, what's the big deal, then?" Justin asks. "We just can't order drinks-we can definitely get in."

"We'll definitely get in," Harry agrees.

Matty tugs on Gypsy's shirt. "People eat there-at bars, y'know," he says as if she does not know.

"Yeah," Gypsy rolls her eyes, "but-"

"Damn it, Gypsy," Justin says, "You really need to get out more."

Harry nods because yes, he's agreeing with Justin.

"Like, Gyps," Justin continues, pressing his palms together in prayer, "Like, I'm so glad we're here right now because oh my god you're making me sad; I swear, it's like you've been living in a fucking hole or something."

"Well, sheesh, Justin, you make it sound like I'm a fricking-"

"God," he sighs, "Could you just say 'fucking,' already?"

"It's a free country, Justin."

"I've heard you do it-It's not that hard, remember? Y'called me a 'fucked-up god' like, in the first twenty minutes I'd even known you."

Matty almost chokes on his cigarette. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, who the heck cares, Justin?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes and throws up his hands, "Heck...Here we go..."

"You know what," Gypsy scowls; her natural defense is to simply get angry, "Forge-" She shakes her head because she is finding trouble articulating this anger, "Fuck you. Fuck all of you-"

"Gypsy," Justin exclaims, "like, just chill, okay? Like actually do me a favor and take some deep breaths and meditate for like, five seconds, please."

She blinks, "Justin-"

"Like, no," he continues, "Like, for real I see why your friends are making you do this," he says, and he points to her tattoo, "I totally get it-you just need to for like, three seconds stop overthinking everything and just chill the fuck out. Like, forget about your ex and forget about your fucking parents and actually just calm down and let the fuck go, alright?"

"Sew that on a pillow, why don't you," Gypsy mutters because she knows that he's right and can't leave him with the last word.

"He's right," Matty nods, as if Gypsy didn't know and he steps behind her and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

He offers a small smile. "You couldn't even tell me what you wanted to do that day when I'd asked," and she looks away because he's right, too, and since when did everyone feel the need to offer her advice? "Life's too short to cry over the little things that simply don't matter," Matty grins, "like bad coffee and stupid boys."

The words rush out without censorship, "Calum isn't stupid."

Justin looks around the mall, "But he's not here, is he?"

At that, Gypsy frowns because there again is another correct assumption.

"Here I am-shit, that took longer than expected."

Gypsy whirls around because it's George and he's pushing back his dirty blonde hair with a pair of sunglasses Gypsy knows he has no use for beneath the brights of Neonopolis.

Matty is laughing, "We've just been out here yelling in your absence, so you just missed our little heart-out."

"Fuck, then, sounds like I'm missing all the fun," George shakes his head and giggles and looks around. "I am positively starved," he pouts, "I've barely eaten all day. Point me in the direction of food and I guarantee to love you forever and ever."

Harry claps his hands. "Finally," he sighs. "I know the perfect place."

"To eat?" George sighs.

"Or to party?" Matty questions.

Justin's got another idea. "Or to cross shit off Gypsy's list?"

"All of it," Harry says. "All of it and more if we could just go," his green eyes meet Gypsy's brown ones. "Sound good?"

And so Gypsy nods for some reason, "As long as I don't get arrested tonight."

"Don't worry, love," Harry winks, "We'll save that for another time."

______

"Harry," Gypsy says.

Gypsy's teeth are clenched and they look like they're made of highlighters thanks to the black lights.

"Yes, love?"

"You said this wasn't a club, Harry."

Harry smiles that cheeky smile of his that makes Gypsy want to slap him. "Actually, Justin said it wasn't a club-I only said there'd be a bar."

"Harold-"

"Not my name," Harry sings, and then he grabs her hand although she'd rather not. "Remember, we're having a good time, right? We're having fun tonight, yeah?"

And Gypsy grunts, but she leaves her hand in Harry's because she's afraid of getting lost amidst the crowd of people grinding together on the dance floor in the nightclub Harry's decided to take them all to.

"Overhead" is the name of said club, and not only is it in walking distance of Rockstar and Neonopolis, but it's located atop a hotel. It's an outdoor nightclub on a hotel rooftop.

Talk about fancy-or 'fan-say' as Harry would have said.

"Celebrities come here all the time," Harry said as they rode the elevator up, up and up to the twentieth floor of the hotel. "My mate's a bartender and he meets all kinds of people-you'd never believe-"

Only, Gypsy tuned out the rest of the conversation because she could hear the music from the tenth floor when the doors opened to let someone on. There's a mix of dub step and house and hip hop thumping through the speakers and Gyspy was sure-positive that they weren't going to get in. She was positive that the bouncer would take one look at her and think she was fourteen or something and send her home to her grandparents.

"Take your hair out," Harry whispered as the elevator stopped on fourteen and two girls dressed way more appropriately in skinny jeans and body cons and high heels stepped onto the elevator to ride the rest of the way.

"Why?" Gypsy whispered back; she'd rolled her eyes because Justin and Harry and George and Matty were very obviously staring at these girls in their heels and club wear.

"Huh?" Harry blinked, turning his attention back to Gypsy. She only sighed. "Yes? I'm sorry, Gypsy, I'd completely spaced..."

"Right," she groaned. "Why do you want me to take out my ponytail?"

"Just do it, please?" Harry asked, and so she obliged because he asked nicely, and she allowed her long, curly hair to fall over her shoulders.

"Happy?" She asked.

"Chuffed," Harry grinned, and he slung his arm around her shoulders as the elevator ding'ed on the topmost floor and the music greeted them and the doors slid open.

The beat pulsed and the floor shook as speakers thump-thump-thumped. The club was big and modern, with cubist decals and multi-colored lights contrasting the black furniture and black floors and black lights that made everything white glow beneath the outdoor awning that somehow managed to keep in the darkness. The deejay spun on the very right side of the club while the bartenders and waitresses held full view from the very left. To Gypsy's surprise, the club was completely packed, excluding the thick wall of bodies pressed against each other in line to gain entrance into Overhead.

And, to Gypsy's utmost surprise, Harry led the group past the line waiting for general admission and straight to VIP.

"Hey, Paul," he said to the bouncer.

"Harry!" The man's round face positively lit up beneath the changing lights. "What brings you here, tonight?"

"It's a special day for this little lady," he said, hugging Gypsy tighter to his side.

Paul hummed. "Twenty-first birthday?" He asked.

Gypsy only nodded because she was sure had she spoken she'd have sounded very unconvincing and she'd have been thrown out. Luckily, she didn't look at Justin because he'd attempted not to look up in fear of laughing-yeah right Gypsy seemed twenty-one, yeah fucking right.

But, maybe it was the make-up from Dior or the long hair that fanned across her shoulders or the way she'd offered a small smile with her full, red lips. Maybe it was the short black tee paired with the very short shorts that made her seem older and more mature.

Because Paul definitely bought it, and he'd bought Harry's fake ID when he first met him and now he was pretty much allowed in whenever his friend was working.

"Great," Paul said, and he lifted the velvet rope, allowing them all entrance into a club. Harry only grinned his award-winning grin and allowed Justin, George and Matty to enter first because Paul tugged on Harry's shirt and motioned inside with his head, "Zayn's at the bar."

Harry grinned again, "Cheers, Paul."

So now, Gypsy grips Harry's large hand and allows him to lead her through the crowd.

"Remember, we're having a good time, right? We're having fun tonight, yeah?"

And Harry leads her straight to a few empty seats at the crowded bar.

Harry stands beside her and leans against the counter, looking up and down the bar. He's looking for someone, Gypsy can tell, so she turns 180º in her clear plastic bar stool and looks into the crowd.

There's dancing and hooking up and grinding to the Dubstep remix of Drake that the deejay is mixing as she stares into the crowd and is reminded of the house parties that Michael and Calum had to practically force her to in order to get her to come.

"Having fun?"

Gypsy rolls her eyes because the question she's asked is beyond sarcastic. She stares straight into Justin's eyes and plasters on a smile and says, "Doesn't it look like it?" and he laughs and walks between her legs and places his hands behind her on the bar and leans towards her.

Gypsy leans back on impulse. "Can I help you?"

"Shh," Justin smirks, and he brings his face closer to hers, eyes roaming her face, "I'm looking for the fun you're supposed to be having."

Gypsy laughs despite herself, and Justin grins, moving to sit beside her in the empty stool.

"You need a drink," he says loudly to be heard over the music.

"I think I've sworn off alcohol, Justin."

"It'll help you loosen the hell up, Gypsy."

"Being hungover isn't fun, Justin."

"Neither is being sober in a club, Gypsy."

Harry grins amusedly on her other side-he's starting not to dislike this 'Justin.' "That was perfect."

Justin smirks. "Tell me about it."

"Thanks for adding to the peer pressure, Harold."

Harry takes some of Gypsy's hair and twirls it around his finger. "Peer pressure?" He says. "Never, love."

"Yeah," Gypsy rolls her eyes, "right."

But Harry tugs gently on her curls, forcing her to meet his green eyes.

"Har-"

His dimple appears with that crooked smile of his. "Never, love," he repeats, and Gypsy is so close to Harry that she can count his eyelashes beneath the multicolored, flashing lights. She's blinking fast and her mouth is involuntarily forming an 'o,' her cheeks rosy; her face flushed.

Justin clears his throat loudly, and Gypsy's eyes flutter from Harry's to another-there's another face in front of hers; it's leaning over the black wood of the bar and it's got dark, tousled hair that stops above a pair of brown eyes swirling like caramel.

Gypsy's mouth does not close.

"No matter what he says," the guy begins-his voice is smooth and soft and he's got the slightest of smiles on his very perfect lips, "he's not that good in bed."

Gypsy's brow furrows. "Wait, um...No," she says, and her head whips to Harry who's got his mouth half open, teeth clamped on the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the bartender, "like, we aren't-"

But the guy with the dark hair and slight stubble and swirling eyes only rests his tongue behind his teeth and laughs. "M'only kidding," he chuckles, patting Harry once on his cheek, "M'sure he's a good lay if you, like," he laughs again, "if you're into you know, like, long stories and--and really, really awful jokes."

"Zayn."

The bartender turns his head to Harry, who slides his hand from Gypsy's hair. "This is Gypsy," he says, and Zayn's eyes widen knowingly and Gypsy looks from him to Harry because it's apparent that he's already told his mate about her and so Gypsy is smiling and her stomach is filled with butterflies.

"Gypsy," Zayn smiles, and Gypsy is loving this smile because holy moly this guy is hot (and she's thanking every god she knows for this man calling off his wedding because he's single).

He nods again, "Gypsy."

She's giggling and Harry looks down the bar, "And that's Justin," he points, and he waves his fingers in greeting. "Then there's Matty and George but I don't know where they've gone off to..."

"So popular," Zayn teases, and he picks up a glass and begins to clean it with the rag on his shoulder. Then, he turns to Harry and lifts an eyebrow, "What d'you want, Hazza?"

Harry drums his fingers on the counter, "Something for her," he says with a nod towards Gypsy.

"She 'doesn't like' alcohol," Justin adds, using air quotes that makes Gyspy sigh and Zayn slides his caramel-colored eyes from him to her.

"Y'don't like it?" He chuckles lightly. "Yeah, no-" He draws out the word and lowers his eyes and hides a grin, "M'thinking you're in the wrong place, love."

"I had a bad first experience," Gypsy says with a quick glance towards Justin. "Vodka shots and I apparently don't mix."

"She had a massive hangover," Harry says, leaning against her. "You really should've seen it," he chuckles, "It was spectacular."

"Damn it," Justin grins, "I missed the hangover-shit."

Gypsy ignores that and decidedly does not reply with the language she'd like to, since Zayn is nodding, "So you need something that like," he pauses, "that tastes good, yeah?"

"Yes," Gypsy nods because hallelujah, someone gets it. "I'll take anything that doesn't smell like chemicals."

And Zayn laughs again; his eyes squinting and lips stretching over his teeth. "M'kay," he nods, and he looks down at the liquor splayed before him. "S'a good thing I'm here," he says, "right?" And although he's absolutely teasing, Gypsy nods because it is a good thing she's here with Zayn and it's a really good thing that Justin's forcing her to do this list and it's a really really good thing that Harry dragged them all to this bar and maybe Justin's right? Maybe all of this is for good and maybe all of this will help her.

Gypsy is wondering what she's done to make so many attractive young men who all happen to like her enough to want to be with her, appear in her life.

And Gypsy's smiling, now-she's beaming, actually-as Zayn slides her a drink and asks both Harry and Justin what they'd like as well, and Gypsy takes a sip of something that's freaking delicious and it's got sugar along the rim and holy shit it's tasty and she's drinking it down and Harry and Justin and Zayn are all watching in amusement as she sips this heaven through her straw at the bar.

"Y'like it?" Zayn asks after sliding Justin some Honey Jack and Harry a Vodka tonic.

"Mhmm," she grins. "Like, it's delicious, actually."

"'Course it is," Zayn says, and Harry turns to him with a raised brow. "What'd you make her?" He asks.

"Long Island Iced Tea," Zayn grins and Justin begins to laugh.

"Holy shit-" Justin turns to her. "Gypsy, do you know what's in that?"

Gypsy is nearly done with her drink. "Nope."

Zayn lifts a brow, "Tastes good, though, yeah?"

"Um, hellz yeah."

Justin laughs. "Did you just add a 'z' to the end of 'hell?'" Justin laughs again.

"Um, hellz yeah I surely did."

"Yeah," Zayn nods, because he's loving this girl and Harry was right-she's great and he does like her, like a lot. "Like, 'Z' for 'Zayn' of course, right, love?"

Gypsy is done with her drink. "Oh my god, right," she says, and then she looks at her glass and back at Zayn and asks, "Can I have-"

He's already sliding her another, "Y'don't even have to ask."

______

Gypsy does not know the ingredients in a Long Island Iced Tea.

However, Justin does.

So does Harry.

And obviously, so does Zayn.

Gypsy does not know that three glasses of Long Island Iced Tea will fuck her up way more than eleven-ish shots of Absolut. Gypsy does not know that this combination of ingredients will have her asleep against Justin's shoulder in the backseat of Matty's car on the ride home. Gypsy does not know this because Gypsy does not at all know the ingredients in a Long Island Iced Tea.

Gypsy does not know that the ingredients are,

1. Vodka.

2. Tequila.

3. Gin.

4. Rum.

5. Triple sec.

6. Sweet and sour mix.

7. Coke.

The End.

After the third glass, Gypsy is beyond loosened up. She's feeling the beat and dancing in her seat and she's sipping water beside Harry who has to beg her to order some after her second glass and she's watching Matty and Justin and George dance on some girls on the dance floor.

She spins around in her seat. "Zayn-" she drawls.

He looks up in surprise. "Gypsy?"

"Zayn," she continues, "Zayn, will you dance with me?"

And Zayn scratches the back of his head and shifts his gaze to the bottles and grins sheepishly. "I uh..." He pauses. "I can't, Gypsy."

He's really telling her that he actually, physically cannot dance with her because he actually, physically cannot dance, but Gypsy thinks it's because he's working and she's also sort of, kind of very drunk.

"How 'bout Harry, then?" He suggests, because he knows that Harry has less rhythm than him but he'd at least try and Zayn might as well find some amusement while he's stuck behind the bar, right?

Harry looks up, a toothpick between his teeth. "Wha-?"

"Harry!" Gypsy exclaims, jumping from her seat and losing her balance and falling into his lap.

Zayn coughs in an attempt to mask his laugh.

"God, Gypsy," Harry says, catching her arms and holding her upright. "Be careful, please?"

And Gypsy pouts because there he is saying 'please,' again. "Dance with me, Harry."

"But-"

She huffs, "Harry."

And Harry doesn't know what exactly it is that propels him to rise from his seat and allow Gypsy to lead him onto the floor. Harry doesn't know what it is that makes him place his hands on either of Gypsy's hips as she sways to the beat beneath the lights of the club.

What Harry does know, is that he was right about this being a good decision-he was right about this being fun; this night with Gypsy at a nightclub. He was right about it being right to help her with her list.

And Gypsy dances with Harry and Justin and George--that she remembers the following morning. She wishes that she could dance with Zayn, but she will wake up the next morning with less of a headache from alcohol than embarrassment because she can distinctly recall crossing off number three on Ashton's list, and she remembers slipping on the counter of the bar and into Zayn's arms because she remembers his smile and his laugh and the way his caramel eyes seemed extra swirly beneath the lights as he held onto her and she rested her head against his chest and he only looked at Harry, who couldn't believe-much like the rest of the drunken members of the club-that she'd done it. Gypsy had gone from the barstool to the counter and had danced to Britney Spears because if you're going to dance on a bar, you might as well do it right and do it to 'Toxic.'

And Zayn takes his break to carry this girl from Overhead with Harry and Matty and George and Justin in tow, and he passes Paul who only shakes his head.

"Some twenty-first, eh? She won't be forgetting this one anytime soon."

Harry only grins, "Not if we can help it."

And Matty and George and Justin and Zayn all laugh although Gypsy does not because Gypsy sleeps.

-~*~-

Okay so @Malaika_z requested a lil bit of her main bae Zayn Malik and so here he is and if you want more of him I'll bring him back tbh because I heart Zayn and who doesn't?

Also okay *drumroll* so way to guess correctly, guys! Adam is Adam Levine and Nicki is Nicki Minaj aaaand George is my cutie George Daniel from The 1975, plus he's in the vid on the right (god I realized i'd been saying left in my earlier chapters so dang phew wow that's rough someone is not good with directions) beneath a pic of what would have been Neonopolis except I changed it to a gif of Zayn because I think that's better, right? Right. Yay for Gypsy making so many friends yay Gyps yay girl yay.

Okay and this is weird but if I wanted to ship my sister (her name's Kamilah) with Michael what the hell would their ship name be? Guys this is serious I need some help here.