Random Harry Styles Short Stories || Completed!

7 Missed Calls || Part 1

You had just gotten off the phone with Harry thirty minutes ago. You had called him in a panic, explaining how you had less than ten minutes to get from one side of the city to the other for an extremely important job interview.

Harry had reassured you in that deep, soothing voice of his that you were going to be fine. That everything was going to be fine. And you believed him. Hell, nobody–not even a psychic–could've predicted the events that would transpire.

Your boyfriend of 2 years was currently in Manchester for four nights. You two had last seen each other in person about a few weeks back when you surprised him in London.

"I missed you so much," Harry had murmured against your lips, "and I still miss you now, because after a few days you're just going to turn around and leave me again."

"I'm never going to leave you. I promise."

It was in the middle of Woman when it happened. That is–Harry's phone ringing backstage. It was on silent, and it was locked up in his dressing room.

Thus, the first call went unanswered.

But whoever was on the other side of the line was resilient, and persistent. The second ring was longer and took Harry's cell phone to the edge of the dresser, where it lay.

And it was still unanswered.

It wasn't until the fifth call that the phone fell to the ground, and the light bang! alerted one of the backstage crew members. Under normal circumstances, nobody would've disturbed the dressing rooms. Especially Harry's.

However, Harry's dressing room was locked, and the star himself was out on stage, so the noise must be from somebody else. An intruder.

The crewmember quickly unlocked the door with an all-access pass, and opened it just in time to see the seventh call light up on Harry's phone screen. Now, your relationship with Harry was not entirely private, and yet after all the years, it was still technically "unconfirmed" by him.

But he still had you saved as "my angel".

7 missed calls from my angel.

The crewmember didn't need to think twice as he held the phone up to his ear on the 8th ring. Almost immediately, he blurts, "Sorry, whoever-this-is, but Harry's in the middle of a concert. Can you call back later?"

There was a brief silence on the line. And then a woman's voice that was so refined it almost sounded automated. "Is this Mr. Harry Styles?"

The crewmember cleared his throat. He didn't know how you sounded like. For all he knew, you were my angel. But something told him that the voice speaking to him was distant. Almost a stranger. "No, ma'am. I'm just a crew member of his. Harry's currently on stage–er, busy. He's busy right now. Can you call back later?"

"Uh–" the woman on the other side stammers. "This is quite urgent. I'm calling him because he's listed as the first emergency contact of Y/N Y/L/N."

The crew member gulps. That must be his angel. "E-Emergency contact? W-What happened?"

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N has been in a car accident."

The crew member didn't waste any time. He had told the woman on the other line to wait, while he ran out of the dressing room and into the wings. Waving his hands frantically, he tried to get the star's attention.

But Harry was distracted. He was chatting up a fan in the fifth row, with a single rose tucked behind his right ear. He was smiling. He was laughing. He was happy.

And all that was about to end.

As a last resort, the crew member yells his name. Even with his in-ears, Harry's head whips to squint backstage. But it was too dark, and Harry was too far away to see clearly.

It's only until the crew member practically walks out on stage holding Harry's phone up above his head that Harry knows something is wrong.

The wildest scenarios rush through his head as he abandons his mic stand and disappears backstage, with a pressed smile to the audience, assuring them that he'll be right back.

"What's wrong?" Harry breathes, pulling the in-ears out of his ears. "What is it? Is it Gemma? My mother?"

The crew member hesitates, and then decides that it's best if he let the automated woman explain. After all, she was used to giving this kind of talk.

Harry stared blankly for a moment at his phone screen, and then his features immediately tighten as he sees the contact name. He immediately snatches up his phone and proceeds to walk further and further backstage, until he has reached the quiet of his dressing room.

Which is where he picks up the call. "Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Styles?"

Harry pulls the phone from his ear, glances at the name, and then answers, "Yes, this is him speaking. Might I ask who this is? And why you have Y/N's phone?"

Was this some sort of prank? Did Y/N leave her phone somewhere and a fan somehow picked it up? In that case, Harry was already ready to get annoyed, and was just about to blurt something out when the woman on the other side interrupted him.

"Mr. Styles, you are listed as the primary emergency contact of Y/N Y/L/N, are you aware of that?"

Harry shuts his dressing room door and leans against the wall. "Yes. Yes I am aware of that."

"Y/N Y/L/N has been in an accident, Mr. Styles. A car accident. I've been trying to reach you for a while now. I'm–"

"Wait, wait," Harry's head is spinning. He catches a glance of himself in the mirror, and he's seeing double. Why was it so hot in the room? Your boyfriend takes off his expensive, custom-made Gucci jacket and throws it onto the floor. "Excuse me? Y/N has been–what?"

"In a car accident, sir."

"When?" Harry's chest is heaving.

"Half an hour ago. Her body was found in the middle of the highway–"

Harry chokes back a sob. "Is she–is she–?"

"The last I heard, Ms. Y/L/N was in an ambulance, on her way to the nearest hospital. Alive."

The crew member who had first received the call knocks on the door. Harry doesn't realize he's crying until then. "Mr. Styles? It's time to go back on stage."

Harry ignores him. "What hospital is she in right now?" And after receiving the name, he hangs up the phone. Not bothering to change out of his concert attire, he unlocks the door and walks past everybody standing in his way.

He's making a bee-line for the exit, when one of his band members call out his name. "Hey! Where are you going? We have a show to put on!"

Your boyfriend hears them. Harry hears them loud and clear. And he still walks out the door.