How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 1

The doctor stood at my bedside. He was an older gentleman with gray hair and kind eyes. In his hand was a file folder containing several papers through which he shuffled. He raised his eyebrows at something on one of the papers and then smiled over at me as if I hadn't just noticed his facial expressions.

"How are you feeling?" His voice sounded as old as he looked. He took a small light from his pocket and flashed it across my eyes then held it steady to examine my reaction. I shut my eyes and pulled my head away.

"I have a lot of pain."

"Where are you hurting?"

"My head, mostly. My back hurts."

"On a scale of one to ten, please rate your pain."

"Eight."

"Do you know your name?"

"Kate."

The doctor nodded and made a note of something on one of the papers. "Can you tell me what happened that put you in the hospital?"

I thought for a moment. I had no idea. The last thing I could remember was that I had been in a meeting to discuss details for the North American leg of the One Direction world tour. I couldn't remember any details after that. "No."

He made another note. "You were walking with your boyfriend outside and something caused you to pass out on the street. When you fell, you hit your head. You have a pretty serious concussion. We're still trying to isolate what caused you to pass out. For now, you look to be in fairly good condition, all things considered. We have a few more tests to run and would like to keep you one more night to monitor you."

Despite his explanation as to why I was in the hospital, I was stuck on one part of his story: my boyfriend. "You must have your information all wrong. I don't have a boyfriend."

The doctor's eyes widened with surprise. Suddenly, I knew something was very wrong. "Who was that young man in here with you?"

"Harry Styles."

"How do you know him?"

"He is in a band that is managed by the company I work for."

"Are you friends with him?"

"We've only met once or twice at most."

The doctor nodded. He clearly knew something that I didn't. He excused himself and walked out. I closed my eyes to relieve more of the built up pain in my head. I could hear faint voices outside the room. It was an exchange between two people. One voice was calm and steady, the other sounded excited or anxious. The second voice was far deeper.

I opened my eyes at the sound of the door opening yet again. The doctor reappeared with Harry in tow. They stood at the foot of my bed. The doctor's face looked impassive. Harry's face looked incredibly concerned as if he were about to get emotional.

"You told me the last thing you remember is being in a meeting for the band," the doctor started.

"Yes," I nodded.

He cleared his throat. "I talked to Harry about what you remember. That meeting took place nearly seven months ago."

Confusion swallowed me. Seven months ago? How could that have happened seven months ago? I could remember the meeting like it happened just hours ago. I went to speak, but nothing came out.

"And you said you only remember speaking to Harry once or twice?"

I eyed the boy at the foot of my bed. Messy hair, emerald eyes, hands stuffed into the pockets of black skinny jeans, lip tucked between his teeth. I sighed, "That's right."