Incandescent | H.S

Part Twenty-Eight: Distressing Situations & Deceiving Snakes

Harry was having a really bad fucking day.

It was one of those ones where he woke up and could just feel the bad omen of the day looming over him before he even got out of bed.

To kick things off, he had an early call for a studio session and his alarm didn't go off so he woke up an hour late. Then, got a flat tire on his way to the studio. It was on a busy London street and his anxiety was on overdrive as he tried to change it without getting mobbed.

About ten or fifteen fans came up to him to say hello and it got out of hand really quickly, resulting in his beanie being snatched from his head and a girl leaving angry red scratch marks down his shoulder. He managed to keep his fear at bay and calm down the situation before slipping into his range rover and speeding off.

He was already so stressed by the time he got to the studio but tried to find his groove with his team and band members, trying to shake off his frustration from the morning.

He thought he'd turned the day around when he recorded a song that he was very proud of. It was a concept he'd thought of a few weeks back and had finally sat down to record the vocals. The instrumentals and vocals were being merged, polished and finessed, his eyes scanning the computer program skillfully. He'd mastered it at this point, his mates sitting back and listening to the song come to life.

When the music program crashed, he just about cried. He swore and cursed at it, slapping the desk in annoyance. His mates yelled out in dismay, trying to reassure harry that the track wasn't gone, that it had autosaved and his song was safe.

But when the computer started to cooperate and he was able to bring up the application again, it was all gone.

He grumbled about it for the rest of the day, so upset and distraught that his hard work just disappeared in front of his eyes. He tried to call you but had no idea that you were swarmed with clients at work and hadn't had a spare moment to breathe properly let alone look at your phone.

Harry was aware it wasn't your fault. He was aware that you had no idea that he was having a fucking meltdown. His shoulder stung and his heart longed for his lost song. He needed you to calm him down but you weren't able to and it only freaked him out more. He tried to picture your soft eyes and pale blue dress, hoping it would ease this ache but it only made him more upset because he missed you and needed you.

He tried to re-record the song but it was all wrong, his groove ruined because his mindset was a completely negative wasteland of anger. He hid away in the recording booth, wondering what had happened to the day and flicking back through it all.

He was generally a positive person but with everything that the day threw at him, with all the additional stress he'd burdened over his album, it was a dam of emotion that broke when he wasn't expecting it to.

He knew where he wanted to be with his project. He'd literally planned it all out, day by day, lyric by lyric. He was so behind with it and it was so disheartening, especially when he watched progress disappear before his eyes.

To make matters worse, you were unreachable. Unable to heal his hurt. He felt so stuck and frustrated, attempting to record his vocals once again but he couldn't even act like he was into it. Even playing his voice back made his jaw clench because of how the drive he portrayed through his words had vanished.

He flipped his phone from his pocket and sent you a text, shaking his head at how desperate he appeared but he didn't really care.

Baby... I need you

Needed your kindness and your clarity.