"Take time to realize that I am on your side. Didn't I, didn't I tell you?"
It had been two days. I hadn't left my apartment, depression had taken over me. I wanted to go home, and forget that any of this had happened. Why did he have to be like this? Why did I have to see him like this? All I'd received was a text message from Preston the morning after;
H said he didn't see you at the show. Everything OK?
I didn't reply.
I sat at my desk and decided to Skype my mum, maybe she'd be able to cheer me up a bit. She answered straight away, the familiar sound of her voice calming my mind. I explained everything to her, she sat and listened. She told me that if I wanted to come home, everyone would understand. I started to cry. She told me everything would be alright. I knew she was right, but I couldn't accept it at the moment. Dad came into frame and they said their goodbyes as I clicked the hang up button. The second I slid my chair back my doorbell rang.
'Who could that be?' I thought to myself as I trudged to the front door. I swung it open expecting to find a door-to-door salesman or something, only to reveal a very sheepish looking Harry. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, a green beanie covering up his mop of hair. I stood there with my mouth open, beyond shocked to be seeing him at my place. We just stared at each other for a few moments before he smiled slightly,
"Can I come in?" I nodded at him and moved aside, letting him saunter into my apartment. I silently cursed myself for not cleaning up. Not that I knew he was coming but still. I closed the door behind me and leant against it. I watched him as he looked around for a moment, before turning back to face me.
"You didn't stay for the show." He simply stated, looking straight into my eyes. I shrugged at him.
"Why? Why did you leave?" He questioned, eyes firmly on mine.
"I didn't feel the need to stay. I didn't want to stay and talk to you afterwards because I feel like I said and heard everything I needed to." I shuffled my feet, suddenly becoming embarrassed to be in his presence like this. He looked sad, and again I wanted to cry.
"Please just hear me out Izi." his voice was calm, and my heart fluttered upon hearing my name fall from his lips. I sighed and nodded, urging him to continue.
"I haven't got anyone. The boys are in their own world, they've got girlfriends and close mates around them all the time. I don't have any of that. A guy I know suggested I try drugs, and offered me a bag of coke. So I said I'd give it a go and it filled a void. I didn't want it to happen but it just did. After the other night I know I need to stop. I want to stop. The world I live in is fucking mad Izi. I need something to help me get through it." He pulled a chair out from the dining table,
"Can I sit here?" he questioned. I nodded, he was still so fucking polite. He dropped his head into his hands as I sat down across from him, thinking about what he'd said. It took me a while before I spoke.
"I'll help you," I stated, his head lifting to look at me, "I'll be that person you need. You know you can trust me. I'll be your friend Harry. God knows you need some help."
He smiled gratefully;
"You don't want to do that. You don't want to get into this life.." He whispered.
"I do want to. I've loved you and the boys since I was 17. I know more about your life than you do," I joked, he gave a light laugh, "If I can help you, I will. You can trust me." I whispered back.
'Thank you' he mouthed. Placing his hand over mine and giving it a slight squeeze.
We sat like this for hours, just talking. He spoke about his family, and I spoke about mine. He explained what it was like being on tour all the time, going from place to place and never knowing where he was. I listened. When he got a phone call from his driver telling him it was time to go I was disappointed. He had to fly to Paris tonight to start a three week tour of Europe. He gave me his number, I gave him mine. We hugged and he left. From there on we spoke every night, he called me from the tour bus and texted me from backstage. He told me he hadn't touched drugs the whole time, I wasn't sure that I believed him but I told him I was proud. The three weeks passed and he was back in the UK, i received a text from him when he landed just before midnight:
Just landed. We have a wrap party tomorrow night, come and meet the other boys and our team. We're all just gonna get super drunk.
I laughed to myself at his forwardness as I typed my reply:
I'll be there with bells on kiddo!
Siiiiiick. It's at Mask. 372 Strand, London. Around 8 o'clock. Text me when you get there, I'll send someone out to get you. Sleep tight .x
Rad, I'll see you tomorrow. Night x x x
YOU ARE READING
Drunk; A Harry Styles Fan FictionFanfiction
"Who are you?" "I'm Izi." "Why are you here?" "Because. Do you need help?" "I don't need anyone's fucking help." ~~ WARNING: Strong language, sex, drug use. NSFW, MA15+