Isabella's p.o.v.

"Isabella, here. Now!"

Rick -my father- called me from the lounge, where he was planted on a sofa littered with empty beer cans, as per usual.

I roll my eyes but as soon as I see him look up at me I direct my gaze downwards.

"Yes, sir?" I ask Rick, making sure to not make any eye contact.

"I want another beer, you hear me?" I mumble a quick yes and turn on my heel, heading to the kitchen.

"Isabella." My steps falter as his voice booms through the hallway.

"Yes." I call back.

"If you roll your eyes at me again one more fucking time, I'll slit your throat." He ever so bluntly puts it.

I hastily walk to the kitchen and grab a refrigerated beer can, opening it up for him, as the lazy shit is incapable of doing it himself.

I place the can on the desk in front of him and turn to leave, but his hand shoots out and harshly grips mine. He gestures for me to inch closer, and not wanting to cause trouble I oblige.

What does he wan-slap.

My head whips to the side at the all-to-familiar stinging sensation. My eyes unintentionally prick with tears, and I turn away so he doesn't detect my weakness.

"Now get the fuck out." He demands, and I don't waste any time before leaving the room.

I rush upstairs and grab my work clothes, my shift starts in an hour and a I still have to do the 40 minute walk to get there.

I put on my pink and white striped shirt and step into my cream and black dress, doing up my tie loosely and tucking it underneath. I leave my hair down, I have no time to do it up.

I lock the door on my way out, not notifying Rick of my absence. It's not as if he'd notice anyway.

Nobody passes me on my walk, but in this neighbourhood I would be surprised if people would. Nobody gets out much, they are too busy smoking pot in their shitty apartments, and my father is no exception. I walk for another half hour until the tacky sign outside, catches my eye, surprisingly looking like the most classy diner in town. It says a lot about this area.

Ding.
Ding.

The irritating bells chimes above me as I walk through the doors. Talking about irritating-

"Isabella, you're on waitressing all day. We need you over time as well. No arguments." Bertha -my boss- yells over the counter, not minding the stares she gets from our customers.

"I can't stay overtime, you know that. I have to be hom-"

"Look, I will fire you in a split second, you're lucky that wonderful father of yours is even here otherwise I would of sacked you years ago."

Her and my father, are like, friends with benefits. I know, disgusting.

"All I'm asking is t-"

"Get to work. Now." I huff in annoyance but grab a rag from the sink and begin wiping empty tables.

Oddly, even though the decor outside makes this place look as if it is a dump, the inside appeals to me greatly. Light blue and white booths litter the place, the checkerboard floor making the colours pop. I guess that's why it it the most popular place in town, even if the food is crap.

I always wondered how they could afford all of this, yet couldn't splurge on one sign that doesn't look utter shit. This town in general confuses me.

I carry on my work and stop admiring the place, if I get caught being static for just a second, Bertha will use that as a reason to sack me.

For the next three hours, nothing happens. Our regulars come in, usually high on something, but leave an hour later after smashing at least four items. Great, extra work for me.

I look up at the clock. 14:36, only 24 minutes until my break. Come on, I can last that long, right?

The bell rings again and I roll my eyes at the sound, it sums up the owner really, cheap and old. Yeah, me and Bertha don't get on much.

My eye catches a group of men sitting in a booth towards the side of the diner, it's almost like a secret area for the customers that want privacy as it is blocked off from the windows and hidden behind a corner.

They all seem big and buff, so I watch in amusement as the four of them try and fit into one booth.

I walk up to them as I'm covering the entire diner today, and none of them seem to notice my presence. I cough and all of their heads lift up, looking at me questionably.

"Would you like me to bring over a chair or something? You seem to be quite squished." I voice my thoughts.

Nobody answers me as they just continue staring. Weird.

"Is that a no?" I trail off, turning slightly so I could go and fetch my notepad.

"U-ur, yes, yes please. That would be great."

They all seem to nod along, so I walk over to a large chair a couple tables down and attempt to drag it across the floor. There is no way in hell I could pick this up.

Much to my embarrassment, a loud squeaking noise emits from the object as I drag it from the other side of the room. This was the only chair that seemed big enough, I should of just given them one of the small ones, I wouldn't look as idiotic then. Stupid.

"Do you need help with that?" I jump at the unfamiliar voice and turn around.

A raven haired man quirks one eyebrow up as he offers me a smile.

"Yes please." He simply picks up the chair and turns to me.

"Where would you like it." I point to the table that is occupied by the four men and he smirks.

"Thank you." I state once he puts down the chair.

"Hey man, where have you been?" One of the four men ask. They know Raven head?

"Just caught up in a job. Nothing serious." He sits down in the chair he brought over and I look at him in shock. Does that mean I have to bring another chair over. You have got to be kid-

"We won't need another chair love, if that's what's got you looking so annoyed."

I quickly remove the scowl from my face and breath a sigh of relief. The men beside him look at Raven head in shock, what?

"I'll leave you guys to pick an order, okay?"

I don't give them time to answer as I begin to walk away. A hand grabs my wrist and on instinct I jerk it away, thinking back to Rick this morning. Raven scowls at his hand but then turns to look at me.

"Sit with us." He says it as more of a statement than a question.

"I can't, I have lots of customers to wai-" I stop myself as all six of us turn to look at the customers. Well, lack of customers, seen as though they are the only ones in here.

"I think you will be fine." He smirks.

"No, I really can't, I don't feel like loosing a job today."

"What's the phrase again? The customer is always right." He taps his chin with a fake wonder look on his face.

"So, I, as the customer. Would like you to sit with us or I will just have to complain." He looks smug by his response but I groan.

"Are you serious?" I ask.

"Yup, now get that pretty little ass here." I look for a place to sit but there isn't any, so I start to walk over to a chair.

"Hey, where are you going?" Raven asks.

"To get a chair?" Isn't that obvious?

"Why don't you sit on my lap baby." One of the first four men speak up, and I laugh at his attempt to be charming.

Although apparently not all of us found it funny as Raven shifts uncomfortably and shoots a glare at the man.

"No, she's sitting with me." He grits out. What crawled up his ass?

"Okay, how about I don't sit in anybody's lap, and I go and take your order; yeah?"

But of course it didn't happen like that and I am pulled onto Ravens lap.

"By the way. I'm Zayn." He whispers.