the journal - h.s.

103

(harry’s pov)

It couldn’t be real; the fabric from the dresses swaying in the cold crispy wind, the shiny flickers from the black limousines that rolled up Chestnut Av. and the fake white smiles, the fact that I was here in black and white when my colorful heart was left with Amber in Chicago with its golden squares of life and wonder. My dead eyes belonging to a body where the heart was missing drifted up the ancient building of the roman inspired architecture with the white pillars and symmetrical facade.

”Harry?” Cat’s voice proved this was - in fact - not a nightmare I could wake up from.

I moved my stiff body, which felt weirdly heavy and tried letting out my breath without it being so ragged from the anxiety. Cat hooked her arm in mine and peeked up at me with a soft expression on her face as she with a slight smile whispered, ”you okay?”

I just nodded, not able to form a word as she took the first step almost leading me to the entrance of the building. I was sure my heart was beating so crazily fast from the fear of falling into the black hole that I so clearly felt was taking over my entire chest. It was just an event with a hell lot of posh, wealthy people. Nothing I hadn’t experienced or tried before. But of course I knew this time it would all be different; different in the sense that this would be the very last time I would interfere with my past. Could I cut the string and still survive on my own? Even with my father doing everything in his power to make sure I wouldn’t? There was something about the thought that made me nervous; I had always believed just getting away from him would be a relief beyond my imagination. That whatever was out there for me couldn’t possibly be worse, couldn’t be harder or more tearing than his company. Yet the fears of a future where I would despise him were surprisingly strong, would I be able to manage?

We were some of the first to arrive; because of the season the sky was already dark and so the flashes from the paparazzi’s nagging time freezing machines shimmered in the night. Before we stepped up before them I held Cat back, moving my eyes down to meet hers, ”if I… lose myself,” my eyes flickered nervously to the ground as I exhaled the last words, ”will you help me through it?”

I hated asking for help. I hated the sound of my voice that begged for help and oozed of loss of self control. I hated having to ask her this, truly admitting this tore me apart, to be like this in front of her, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep myself together.  I couldn’t exactly recall Amber’s words from a few weeks back; but they sounded something like it being okay to ask others for help. That you didn’t have to conquer the world alone in the dark, let alone simply trying to survive. I sighed as Cat’s eyes grew a little wider in surprise before she not a heartbeat later replied, ”you know, you didn’t even have to ask.”

As her words coated me with some weird warm sensation of caring that at least tried to soften the anxiety, we stepped into the lights and attention of the hungry paparazzi. I tried smiling softly but was sure it only seemed like a forced grimace while an ocean of yells suddenly took force, ”it’s the senator’s son! Harry Styles!”  

Caitlyn squeezed my hand slightly.

”You mind if I get drunk?” My date for the night asked sarcastically as I handed her one of the two crystal glass filled with bubbly expensive champagne. I couldn’t help grinning. The events we had attended together at the age of 17-19, we would always try to steal the precious sips of the bubbly liquid without the guards seeing us, since we had been under age back then.

”I was just about to ask the same,” I muttered under my breath only for her to hear, as my eyes were fixated on newcomers at the entrance. Briefly a hardened expression washed over my face before my eyes found hers.