Achilles Heel

05. Astar - Arrogant Son of a Bitch

Thank you to my wonderful editor Keanna. Without her, none of this would be possible. The chapter is mostly a filler. You’ll learn a little about Astar. x

A soft groan elicited from my lips as the light from my window blanketed the room, casting a bright hue across the furniture. I brought my hand up to grab the edge of my grey, crushed velvet pillow to bring it out from underneath me to place over my eyes, wanting to shield them from the bright light that was tearing me from my sleep.

The soft wind blew the curtains ever so slightly, reminding me that I needed to start closing that window. The cool air of London just felt so nice some nights and I couldn’t help myself but leave it slightly ajar. It was nice to just walk right out onto the balcony as well in the mornings without having to unlock the door or unlatch the window to push it open. It’s not like anyone could make it up to the fifth floor anyways.

After I reached over to slam my finger down blindly on my phone to stop the annoying alarm for what seemed like the umpteenth time, I finally tore the pillow from my eyes and opened them up, staring straight at the white ceiling. There wasn’t anything particularly special about my room. It was like every other studio apartment in this part of London.

Bright spacious bedroom, a kitchen a few steps away, living area, bathroom connected to the bedroom and one near the living area for guests. I throw the blankets off of my body after a few more minutes of just laying there and staring at the ceiling. Unfortunately, I actually had to be productive today.

It’s been three days since that night at the club. I worked the day after but Harry wasn’t present which was unusual. I didn’t give myself any time to overthink it because he was nothing but a mission to me. Someone that I needed to take down in order to make the world slightly better. I slowly smoothed my hand down the side of my desk, finding the RFID card that was blending into it before running said card against the bottom of the desk. The false bottom fell open to reveal the five yellow, manila folders that contained information about the boys and a leather-bound journal.

My hand came into contact with the journal, pulling it out and setting it down on top of the desk while closing the false bottom and setting the card to the side. I immediately started writing, recounting the day and little things I noticed about the two boys so I could remember to send feedback to the base.

Harry Styles is one arrogant son of a bitch, to say the least. His ego is about as big as the holes in his cheeks that he calls dimples…

I was quick to turn my pencil upside down, erasing that line because it sounded odd now that I read over it. My boss did not need to know I was thinking about Harry Styles’ dimples. I needed to appear calm, cold and collected.

Harry Styles comes off as a cold, arrogant son of a bitch.

I erase the line once more, giving a shake of my head. Harry Styles may grind my gears but no one needed to know that I already despised the lad. This needed to come off as professional. Come on, Astar. Quit thinking about that night. Think about their behaviour, not the way their fingers felt inside of you.

Harry Styles was calm, collected. He seemed to have every outcome pre-planned. Tony Genevese is under Harry’s command. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the girls at the club work for Harry to smuggle drugs. My initial interaction with Styles was brief, fleeting and before I knew it the man had disappeared.

The second interaction I had with Styles was a longer one in the red room. Styles was dickish and a bit cocky while his right-hand man was a bit cooler. Zayn didn’t seem to speak and seemed to assess my every move as if he was reading my body language. Need to find out if Zayn has a background in Psychology.

I closed the leather journal, finally satisfied with what I had written despite the earlier fuck-ups due to my over-reactive mind. I set the journal back into the false bottom once it reopened, a small smile gracing my lips whenever a photo of my mum and I fell out. I was quick to pick it up, admiring the image for a few moments with a fond expression before stuffing it back into the false bottom and shutting it.

Due to my new identity, I couldn’t have any personal artefacts in my place that would detail who I was. No pictures of my family. No pictures of my dog, whom I believed was the best boy to ever exist. I hated going deep undercover sometimes and leaving him. My deepest fear is that one day I’d be gone for too long and he’d forget my scent.

Once everything was put away, I quickly scurried into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar as I started up a shower. Since it was my day off I let myself indulge in a long shower, shaving almost every part of my body and putting on a face mask.

Once my shower was finished, I slipped on a robe, not really wanting to get dressed so I made my way into the kitchen. I towel-dried my hair on the way, tossing it carelessly into the hamper once I had reached the kitchen. The placement of the laundry being in the guest bathroom was highly convenient.

The clock near the fridge slowly ticked around, the sound filling up the quiet apartment as the hand moved.


What a late time to actually begin the day. I decided to blame it on the fact that I usually got home around two to three am. It usually depended on how busy the club was, some nights were slow and some were busy to the point I ended up pulling a double.

The sound of the kettle brought me back down to reality, placing my hand on the arm and moving to pour the steaming water over the teabag in the mug. The water turned the familiar murky colour as I pushed the bag around, setting the kettle back on the stove and turning it off. I then added a splash of milk, blowing on the edge of the mug as if it’d cool it off quickly before bringing it to my lips and taking a small sip.

My body leaned against the counter as I got lost in my thoughts again. It seemed to happen more often and usually, they were about Harry. It had been over a week and I had barely made any progress with the mission. Realistically I knew this entire operation could last months if not years. If it got to that point, it’d be my longest undercover mission to date.

My mind soon drifted to dirtier thoughts, making me shift on my feet as I finished the tea that was now cold in the mug. I hadn’t realised how long I was standing there, just staring blankly at the wall like a nutjob. Suddenly, not having a roommate didn’t seem so bad anymore.

Within the next two hours, I was the most productive I had been in a while. I unboxed all of my clothes, hanging some up in the closet and putting some into the dresser--making sure to hide my toys underneath my underwear. I also hid some in a small chest under my bed for the nights when I didn’t want to walk all the way over to my dresser.

I also got time to hide my weapons in the other RFID chipped furniture that was spread through-out the apartment in case of an emergency and even checked for hidden cameras, not that there would be any this early on. Better safe than sorry though. Trust nobody.

Once the sun started to disappear behind the city skyline, I set on some soft background music as I cooked dinner, my body swaying slowly to the beat. “My blinds are drawn I can’t see…” The lyrics fell from my lips with ease, stirring the nearly al dente pasta noodles around in the pot. “Smashed in my car window...didn’t touch the stereo.”

The lumineers just seemed to fit the night. The cool air rushed in from the window that was slightly ajar over the sink. The moon offered a bit of light, hitting the table just right. It was almost picture-esque but if I were to look outside I wouldn’t see any stars due to light pollution. One downside to London. My favourite thing was to lay back on the ground and stare at the stars.

I’d trace over the constellations with my finger when I was younger, speaking in a soft voice to my sister who just clung to me and looked up at me with stars in her eyes. She was an enigma. Brighter than any star that existed in the night sky but now she existed among the night sky, dancing with the stars that I had grown to love even more.

Maybe a roommate would’ve been better I thought. Maybe I wouldn’t be so alone with my thoughts on nights like this.

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