Luke is partially glad that he's late.

A part of him still couldn't quite understand why and how Lou had kept his invitation open to not only attend his bachelor party but also be in his wedding.

"...how long were you gonna keep her a secret, mate?"

The words ring in Luke's head as he grips the wheel of his Tesla. It's not like he didn't know this would happen. It was bound to come to this, wasn't it? Louis was bound to find out about his ties to Phoenix.

And a part of Luke is torn, too, because it was his friends--the same friends who were furious at Lou for falling in love with a stripper--who practically encouraged him to go to Phoenix and meet the stripper he'd developed a crush on through social media.

A bit hypocritical, wasn't it?

He wondered what made his friends support him and fight with Lou. He wondered what made him different?

What made him better, special?

And maybe there was no real reason at all.

No justifiable one, anyway.

Because Luke had made up his mind, and by the time he arrives, pulling into the lot at Phoenix he's solid in his resolve. He wasn't going to bring this up with Desiree. In fact, he wouldn't dare. He was still trying to surprise her before the holidays were up, and here he was, really wishing that he could utilize this time she was out with her friends to plan.

But, here he was.

Going to Phoenix.

For Lou.

Who is drunk off his ass by the time Luke gets into the club.

"Th-there 'e is."

The music is loud and Luke can't tell if anyone can hear him.

"Missed me?"

"'Course we did," Louis claps him heavily on the back. "Wonderin' where you've been all night."

Luke can't quite tell if that's sarcasm.

He doesn't ask.

Instead, a fistful of notes gets shoved into his hand.

"Don't talk," says Michael. "Just throw."

His mates are trashed.

It's almost funny, but somehow it's not.

Maybe because Luke is sober and they are obviously not.

"Isn't your rehearsal dinner tomorrow?" He calls over the music.

"'Course," Louis replies.

"You gonna sober up in time?"

And to his surprise, Louis laughs, "You gonna be late again?"

Niall laughs aloud.

Harry shoves a drink into Luke's hands.

Chuckling, he begins to relax. "Not unless I never wanna hear the end of it."

His friends join in with laughter.

Louis lifts his drink, eyes sparkling with amusement and intoxication.

He nods, "True."

Luke decides to have fun.

He's throwing money tonight at women he's never seen before. It's a whole new set of strippers, and in ways, Luke feels like he's cheating on his girl by entertaining women that all aren't her.

Weird, right?

"How's Blaire like the fact that you're back here, eh?" Ashton asks.

"She's lettin' me get it all out of my system," comes Louis' reply. "'Cause after tonight, I'll never be able to step foot in here again...or any strip club for that matter."

The boys are having fun.

It had really been a long time, since Luke had been surrounded by all of his friends like this. Like, it had been since uni that these men had been his teammates, his very best friends, and there's no way that these years of memories and laughter should end after tonight. A wedding should be bringing them together, not tearing anyone apart.

Louis deserved to know.

He deserved to know the full truth about Des.

About them.

Him and her.

Luke decides to tell him.

Just...just not now.

Because now, as the young men all joke and drink and laugh amongst themselves, it seems like the worst time. It seems like this moment shouldn't be ruined. It feels like...like Luke should wait.

He vowed to tell him, though.

He wouldn't wait long.

"What's goin' on in your head, mate?"

There's a large hand against his shoulder.

Luke looks up, Calum's voice is loud over the music in his ear.

Flashing lights tint his face red.

"I'm," he licks his lips, leaning towards his friend, "I've decided to tell him."

Calum wrinkles his nose. "Tell...who? And...what?"

"Lou," Luke calls, as a stripper with tattoos up her leg shakes her ass in the groom-to-be's face. "I'm gonna tell him about Des."

"But--But doesn't he know?"

"Not everything. Not from me, anyway."

Calum rolls his head on his neck, "Luke..."

Luke shrugs, changing the subject, "Surprised to see you having a good time."

"Luke."

"What? Looks like you're enjoying yourself, Cal."

Calum deadpans.

Luke flashes a cheeky smile under the red lights. "Having fun, Cal?"

"You see Kez anywhere around here?"

Luke shakes his head.

"S'why."

"Wow," Luke laughs. "Fuckin' terrible."

"What?" Calum shrugs. "I don't see you complaining about your Sangria not working tonight. Unless you wanted her here so you could rip that fuckin' Band-Aid--"

"It's Desirée," Luke corrects, "and she's at the bachelorette party," Luke shrugs. "Isn't really fair to have her working, is it?"

Calum only shrugs.

Luke snorts. "Why is Kez with you, again? Why does she like you?"

"She..." And Calum takes a long drink of his drink. "Never mind."

Harry didn't know the girls were having their bachelorette party on the same night. He didn't know why he hadn't thought that through, but to see a whole different set of Phoenix babes tonight was...

Well, it was rather disappointing.

He just wanted to rip the fucking Band-Aid, already. He wanted to just get this shit out the way and tell Louis about Rory while everyone was laughing and drinking and intoxicated.

He didn't want to rip this Band-Aid sober.

He could already tell how that would go. He could already glean from Lou's reaction to Luke that this was not how he was ready to break the news about Rory...

If they were even a thing, anyway.

But, Harry's drunk. And he's standing in the bathroom because he's drunk and his mind always seemed to drift to her. His little engineer was somewhere out shaking her ass and having a good time with the other women in Blaire's bridal party and he wanted to know who she was with. He wanted to know if there were male strippers there. He wanted to know if any of them were interested in her like he was. He wanted to know if she was entertaining any of them without him.

He didn't want to admit it, not out loud anyway, but he was obsessively trolling Rory's social media to see where she was and how the bachelorette party was going...especially because he knew, dammit he knew, that there were likely to be male strippers there and Harry couldn't quite understand why that idea was bothering the shit out of him.

Sure, they weren't a "thing," but hearing her call him "Babe" meant something after she'd been ghosting him since they'd met.

And, she was a genius. Like, it turned him on to think about how she knew cars, but the girl was an engineer.

He messages her, replying to her newest story.

Having fun?

The door opens.

Harry jumps.

It's Luke.

"Heard of a fucking knock, Luke?"

He looks around the empty bathroom, "In a public restroom, Haz?" He laughs aloud. "You're drunk."

He nods, running a hand through his hair. "I am."

Luke grins.

He meets him at the sink.

"The fuck is that?"

"Nothing," Harry replies quickly, instantly swiping out of social media.

Luke's raised eyebrow is enough to let Harry, despite being drunk as shit, know that his mate wasn't going to drop this yet.

But, Luke only eyes him knowingly, shaking his head as he runs his hands across his face, splashing himself with cold water.

"Hey," he begins as Harry turns back to his phone, "what's up with Zayn?"

Harry snorts, "He still cryin' out there?"

Luke wrinkles his nose, laughing drunkenly, "A bit."

"Alcohol's probably not helping."

"Something happen? He's been textin' me since--"

"You were late?" Harry's lips purse, "Girl trouble."

"Did..." Luke's eyes widen, "Lou find out about--"

"Asmaa?" Harry shakes his head. "No," he laughs. "They're just goin' through it."

Luke nods.

And he knows now really isn't the time but he asks anyway.

"When're we gonna tell him?" He asks, leaning against the sink.

"Who?" Harry's nose wrinkles.

"You know, Haz."

He groans, rolling his eyes. "Can we not now?"

"Haz, c'mon."

"Luke, throw some fucking notes and loosen up."

"Seriously? Haz, you can't be fucking serious. This man's getting married, how long d'you think, we're gonna keep dancing around this shi--"

"One more night, that's what," he replies. And Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes. "We're gonna be friends one more night and let 'im get married and forget all about this shit."

"Harry, that's so fucking stupid."

It was.

And Harry knew, he did. But, Harry was drunk and he was distracted and he was watching Rory's story trying to figure out if she was having too much fun out tonight.

Without him, anyway.

So, while he knew Luke made sense he was not in any frame of mind to admit this. He was too busy waiting for--

She messages him.

She's messaged him back.

And Harry's grinning at the snap she's sent him, captioning the selfie of herself with a YES that makes him smile, tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he screenshots the photo.

He's typing back, "Saved," when there's a heavy clap against his back.

"Wha--?"

"You're the same," Luke shakes his head. He snorts, blinking, trying to sober up so he could get his shit and drive home. "You, Zayn..." Luke fights a laugh, "Same as Lou, mate."

And Harry stares at his screenshot and understands immediately, even drunk, what his friend means.

Luke shrugs in Harry's silence.

"We gotta tell him," he says, and he's gone, slipping quietly out of the bathroom, returning to the music and the lights and the strippers he can't seem to leave alone in Phoenix. 

Babe please call me.

Ayat's soft, incoherent mumbles are amusing Asmaa as she lays beside her in bed and attempts to sleep.

She always did that, her sister. She always used to talk in her sleep after she drank. It surprised and comforted Asmaa to know that hadn't changed.

It's nearly four AM now, the girls have just come home from their night out with Blaire, a night where Asmaa got to see male strippers for once, a night where she and her best friends were able to celebrate.

And Blaire was the sweetest, really. She let Asmaa's sister and Rory's cousin attend without question, also extending an invitation for them to come to the wedding. Like...?

The nerve of Zayn.

Seriously.

And she hated that she was thinking of Zayn but he crept into her mind like she couldn't shake him--she'd have to confront him at some point.

She can see his last text in her mind and she has half a mind to call him now.

Babe please call me.

He was her boyfriend.

But what a boyfriend.

Here he was judging this woman without even trying to get to know her. It made her wonder if he would have done the same to her had he not know about law school; had he not known about King's. Had Asmaa been "just" a stripper, would he have wanted to play tourist? Would he have wanted to sit next to her in the library?

This sucked.

This uncertainty.

Because she was ignoring his calls, his texts too. And he must have taken the hint since they had become more infrequent as the night went on; as she watched more strippers shake their asses in Blaire's face.

His last text is open on her phone.

Her eyes are glazing over, staring at it.

She knew she had to call him back. She would, dammit. Especially when Blaire's rehearsal dinner just a few days away, the wedding damn near right after for goodness sakes.

But for the most part, Asmaa needed a sign. She needed to know what to do; how to approach this situation. Asmaa had never been in this predicament, let alone had a boyfriend.

And she liked him.

She liked Zayn, she did. Like, a lot. But, more than anything, she felt guilty.

Like, she thought she would marry this man. And, while premature, she thought that they had a real future together. She could justify having sex with him because she just knew it would be fine. She just knew Allah would forgive her. But, now?

Now, Asmaa felt like she'd betrayed her religion.

And, for what? A man who...

...who didn't really approve of her other sin? A man who didn't really approve of her being a stripper?

This sucked.

Ayat turns in her sleep, mumbling.

Asmaa giggles softly. This was nice. There was a warm feeling within her at the sight of her sister, at the sound of her even breaths, as she turned beside her in bed. She hadn't seen her in ages, and she missed her. She couldn't let time pass like this again.

Asmaa had no idea how she was going to tell her.

About any of it--especially Zayn, especially Phoenix. She broke two cardinal rules all within an evening and now she had to confront her demons.

Literally.

Without disturbing her sister, Asmaa pushes herself from bed. Maybe Rory was awake. She had come in and crashed on the couch, leaving Lira the bed. Maybe she'd gotten up to shower or eat. She was so random when she was drunk.

And Asmaa pads down the hall, finding the light on in the kitchen.

Except it's not Rory.

"Lira?" Asmaa grins sleepily.

"Asmaa," Lira's smile widens as she looks up from her phone. She's sitting on the counter drinking tea. "Want some?"

She nods, taking a seat across from her. "Why're you up?"

"Shouldn't I ask you that?" She grins. "Thought you'd be knocked, Miss 'Make It Rain On a Stripper.'"

"Got a lot on my mind," she sighs, as Lira chuckles, pulling a mug for tea.

"I can tell."

Asmaa snorts. "You haven't seen me since I was a kid, Lira," she teases. "You can't tell."

"Do you remember that? That summer, I mean," Lira grins, "When I met you."

"Um, duh," Asmaa scoffs. "I'll literally never forget the best summer of my life."

Lira laughs softly, eyeing her cousin sleeping on the couch. "Asmaa..."

"I'm serious," she replies. "So serious. I was out late, chasing after you and Ayat in a foreign country. New friends? No curfew? Best summer of my life."

Lira stares at her, smiling distantly. "Meeting you, your sister..." She nods, "That was one of the best things that ever happened to me."

The words fill Asmaa to the brim. "Lira..."

"And to see you and Rory as friends now, like..." She giggles adorably, sending Asmaa back in time, back to camp, back to D.C. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Thank you for putting me in contact with her," Asmaa replies. "She has literally saved my life. Seriously," Asmaa shakes her head, just thinking how stressful her life was when she first moved to the UK.

And it's funny to think that it all, everything, began that way. This whole mess Asmaa was in, this whole life she was living, was all due to Lira and Ayat and a phonecall--one that changed her entire life.

Here she was, a whole stripper.

But, with all of her uncertainty, she could've been making ends meet at the coffee shop under The Eye. She could've been struggling to make her rent.

"I..." Asmaa frowns, shaking her head, "I can only hope to repay her kindness."

"Oh, please. The way Rory gushes about you I doubt she's looking for payment."

"I know but," Asmaa looks around, "the day I can move out and give her her apartment back I--"

Lira laughs. "She'd cry if you left her, Asmaa."

"Not if she replaces me."

"Right," she snorts. "With who?"

"Ha--" The name dies on her tongue at the sight of Lira's raised eyebrow. Maybe Rory hadn't shared these details with her cousin, oops. "Ha!" She plays it off with a laugh. "Ha ha! As if she could ever find another me."

Lira giggles, pouring hot water over a tea bag. "She could never."

"Thank you."

"So silly."

"Some things just don't change."

"Speaking of 'change,'" Lira stirs her tea, biting the corner of her lip, brows furrowed in that way she always had, "have you talked to your sister?"

"Not..." Asmaa's eyebrow spikes. "About what, exactly?"

"I mean...I don't know. Nothing specific, just—"

"You're making me nervous, Lira..."

"Nothing! It's nothing. Don't be nervous, Asmaa. Seriously. I just know Ayat wanted to talk to you and," she shrugs, "that's it. Just, catching up, y'know?"

"Oh...Okay..."

"Mhm," she nods. "I," she clears her throat, staring at her tea. "Yeah. Right."

____

comment and vote guysssss <3

ps did i tell you this was nominated for a watty? im like, whaaaaattt/? still lol.