Chapter 4 "What an absolute asshole," I mutter to myself as I walk out of the studio, my dance bag slung over one shoulder and Harry's crate tucked under the other. Because seriously, who in their right mind would show up to collect a seven-year-old child over half an hour late? Men with handsome faces and dark eyes who think they can do whatever the hell they want, that's who. I snort in indignance. It's not that I minded spending extra time with Paige. She's adorable-equal parts sensitive and sassy, which kind of reminds me of myself at that age. But that's double the reason her dad shouldn't have kept her waiting! And on top of that, he kept me waiting, too. But even as I simmer, I know I'm projecting. He wasn't actually an asshole, per se. Or at all, really. More just...inconsiderate. Or the victim of a bad traffic jam. Or perhaps just one of those guys who thinks his time is worth more than everyone else's. His poor wife. Fresh start, I remind myself. I drove all the way from Atlanta to San Francisco for a fresh start. And as part of that fresh start, I vowed not to give any man any more power over me, or any more of my brain space. So right now, I need to forget about the hot dad back there and go check out my new apartment. "Almost home now, Harry," I say as I climb into my white Volvo SUV, which is loaded to the brim with all of my stuff, clothing still on hangers piled on top of suitcases and boxes and my favorite fluffy white blanket in the back seat. I free poor Harry-whose official name is Harry Styles the Third, may Harry Styles the First and Second rest in peace-from his crate, and sigh as he gives me a narrow-eyed glare and leaps away from me to sit atop two boxes stacked in my passenger seat. I reach over to scratch his chin, and he mewls at me. "I'm sorry, Harry; I'll make it up to you," I promise as I reach for my phone and pull up the pin Fisher sent me for the bar he's currently at. Harry glares at me in response, and I hold up my hands in a pose of surrender, because yes, after thirty-six hours already in the car as I drove here in a rush, my cat is now my best friend and closest confidante, and I really don't want him to be pissed at me. He's the only toxic man I'm willing to put up with. The bar's only a ten-minute drive away, and when I pull up at an all-white, chic building with fire lamps lining all the walls, I'm unsurprised-I definitely had Fisher pegged as the type to frequent ritzy clubs with strobe lights and bottle service. I text him, and wait for a response. Nothing comes, so I call him. It rings off. Call again. Same thing. With a sigh, I glance towards the big, shiny black door of the establishment, then put down my windows an inch to give Harry some fresh air. "Two minutes," I promise, but he mewls so pathetically that I can't bear to leave him, so I scoop him up and tuck him back into his crate. "Come on, buddy, let's go get our keys." There's no security at the door, therefore nobody to stop an underage girl wearing a dance leo and carrying a freaking cat in a crate from entering the premises. Which is kind of a them problem, not a me problem. Inside, the lighting is dim, and the music is loud, and the vibe is sexy as hell. Although it's not late yet, the girls are dressed up in short dresses and heels. I stick out like a sore thumb. Quickly, I scan the bar until I see a guy who looks like Fisher deep in conversation with an attractive redhead. They're sitting close, her hand is on his thigh, and his eyes are hooded with that sleepily flirty quality the man seems to positively ooze. Making my way over to their white-leather clad booth, I try to be stealthy, sneaking my way over without being seen. But I'm not quick enough. A bald security guard mutters something to his mustached friend, and they begin striding towards me purposefully. "Well, if it isn't Allegra Callahan!" Fisher cries, and I slump in relief as the security guards immediately back off. Perks of being a newly-minted NHL player, I guess. "Fisher, hey!" I can't help but smile as he grins and gives me a hug, the flirty look in his eyes when he was talking to the redhead replaced with a benign, almost brotherly affection. I get the feeling Fisher kind of views me as a lost little sister he's taken under his wing, and this makes me feel immediately at ease with him again. I haven't seen him since he graduated last May, but when I called Fisher to tell him I had dropped out of USG this semester, he jumped to tell me all about the room that had just become available in his place. And that it was mine rent-free for as long as I needed it if I wanted to get away from Georgia. Which I did, desperately. So I took him up on the offer (but insisted I pay rent), and I'm not going to lie, I'm happy to see a familiar face right now. "Come have a drink with us," he declares, looking more than a little tipsy. "Nah, I'd better go," I say, then lower my voice. "I'm underage, underdressed and⁠-" "Meow," Harry interjects. I gesture to the pet crate. "And I have my cat with me." Fisher stares at me, stunned, for one long second before he breaks into peals of laughter. "You're a funny one, Callahan," he says, ruffling my hair like I'm nine. "I'm glad you've come out to stay with us for a bit." I bite my lip. "Are you sure your roommates are cool with me crashing?" "Sure." He shrugs. "It's my place, and you insisted on paying rent, so I see no problem. I'd say come meet them, but Penn's currently...otherwise engaged" -he gestures to the corner, where a tattooed, dark-haired guy looks very busy sticking his tongue down a blonde woman's throat- "and Downsby was being a little bitch tonight." I have no idea what any of this means, so I smile and say, "Well I'm sure I'll meet them tomorrow." Hopefully when I smell a bit better. "Sweet, catch ya later." Fisher tosses me a key. "Your room's the one down the hallway on the right." "Thank you, Fisher. For everything." "No worries. You know I've got you." He winks at me in a jokey-obnoxious way, and for the first time since I got in my vehicle back as USG and drove off into the sunset, I feel like everything might just turn out to be okay. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!