To be so lonely |h.s

one

Harry Styles

This is the last place I want to be on a Friday night. Stuck in rush hour traffic in the middle of London.

Honestly, why am I even friends with Banksy anymore? It's the fuckers fault I'm stuck freezing my balls off in my car.

"You need other friends to rely on. I ain't gonna be here forever mate." I mock under my breath, beyond frustrated at the statement he spoke to me earlier in the day.

I mean who even needs friends?

Okay, stupid question. I definitely need friends.

I've just got to put myself out there and become less of a loner. The more friends, the less chance I have of becoming depressed.

Again.

Ah, fun times.

Slamming my hand on the steering wheel, letting out a groan, I begin to wish I had just stayed home.

I could be curled up on the sofa watching Bridgerton with Murph right now, but no. Here I am sat in fucking rush hour traffic attempting to make my way to meet Banksy at some stupid fucking bar.

I don't even drink.

Not after tha-

Jerking out of my thoughts thanks to the impatient dick who's sat honking at me from behind. I look up to see that traffic has started moving. Thank god.

Turning the stereo down that was blasting 'Leather and Lace' by Stevie Nicks in hope to try and drown out my lovely inner turmoil, I listen to where my satnav is telling me to go.

I was supposed to meet Banksy at some 'Lights up music bar' at 7:30 but here I am pulling up at 8:14, thanks to the stupidly long fucking traffic.

After taking an extra 10 minutes driving in circles to find a parking space. I very quickly give up, feeling like shit as I'm already late enough. Deciding to just park on the pavement down the road, I lock my car after grabbing my jacket.

Beginning the small walk I have to take to get to the front door I can't help but become intrigued at the building in front of me.

There's brown, wooden panelled walls with tinted windows and a white sign that states 'Lights up music bar' in back writing. Thank god I'm in the right place. Banks would be sure to give me a long, boring, extremely pointless lecture on time management if I show up any later.

Not that it's my fault. Stupid traffic.

The closer I get the more details I'm able to take in. Theres dark green ivy running up some of the panels and.. a bright pink door?

I love pink.

Maybe I could paint my door pink, that would look cool. I'd have to get a new doormat though cause you can't have a pink door with a green doormat, ew.

It needs to be nice pink though. Not ugly pink, who wants an ugly pink painted door? Definitely not me.

Anyways.

My short walk comes to an end when I reach said pink door. Now that I'm up close, I'm able to see the beautiful stained glass window features nearing the top.

Gosh, I really love pink.

Pushing on the door in an attempt to escape the cold, the bloody thing doesn't budge. Frowning, I give it a harsh pull instead, almost smacking my face with the side of it whilst I'm at it.

Well if that's not embarrassing.

The fuck don't they have a 'pull door' sign for?

Huffing, I finally make my way through the door to be met with one of my favourite songs blasting through the speakers. 'The Jean Genie' by David Bowie.

Now whoever put that on has taste, I'll give you that.

Stood like a twat whilst trying to spot Banksy. I can't help but notice the uniqueness of the way they've designed this place.

It's cool as shit.

Hung on the walls are different coloured neon signs alongside posters and pictures of some of my favourite 70's bands and singers. The tables are designed like old style diner booths and the bar itself is rectangular shaped with pink barstools surrounding it.

I'm going to guess someone here really loves pink. Not as much as I do though. Even though they have a pink door and I don't, that'll change soon.

One pink door for me and Murph coming right up in the very near future. Just need a new doormat to go with it first.

After spotting Banksy sitting on one of the pink barstools by the bar, I start to head over.

I've never been to this bar before and in all honesty probably never would've planned to come on my own accord but hey, this is what I get for listening to Banksy.

Oh! A blue doormat would look ace with my new pink door.

Need to get that ordered tomorrow.

After making way through the swarm of drunk partiers I pulled a stool out next to Banks.

"Hey asshole"

He looks up and gives me that stupid fucking sad, pitying smile.

I hate that smile.

I just want to forget and go back to how it used to be but I can't really do that when all he wants to talk about is the accident.

"Hiya nicks, how's you feelin' today?" He questions as he stands up to pull me in into a tight hug.

I do love hugs.

"Hm?" He presses after a beat of silence.

Mumbling a simple "M'fine." to hopefully stop the extremely fucking annoying, consistent concern. I pull back and take a seat after sitting my jacket on the stool next to me.

Fine my arse. I'm far fucking from it.

Well at least I'm self aware.