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encounter

Harry.

I put my hood up and rush to my car, getting in and relaxing against the seat. A two week break before I go on the grind again. The exhaustion is worse than I had in the band, and that says a lot.

My hands steer my car towards my mom's, staying with her for a few days first. It's such a great feeling knowing I'm coming back home. I miss my family and my friends. Sometimes the drama gets to be too much. I don't remember the last true thing I've read about myself in the media.

I shut the lights to my car off before pulling into the driveway. It's an attempt not to wake my mom, and Robin too if he's home.

My feet walk up to the house and I shut the alarm off, then activate it once I shut the door. I smile, looking around at the familiar surroundings. Then I lean back against the wall and close my eyes, smiling at myself.

"I'm home," I breathe out, dropping my bag on the counter.

I put the few papers on the counter before walking upstairs, my feet quietly shuffling into my room. My hand opens the door, then I shut it. Then I drop my bag and start to remove my shirt, wanting to just sleep.

But I hear a scream. And hell, I've never been so freaked out before in my life.

I turn around and see a girl laying in my bed, her body shoved into the corner between my wall and bed. It's clear she's scared, but who the hell is she?

Then my mom runs into the room and she glances at the girl, then me. But the girl makes a mad dash out of my room and I am left stunned and confused.

"Harry," mom smiles, but she quickly diverts her attention to the girl. I urge her to go and I follow carefully, my eyes watching mom crouch beside the girl.

"Clara," she says, the girl covering her face with her hands. "Clara, it's my son. It's okay."

I frown, never seeing a girl so nervous before. There's no way I could tell you how old she is too.

"H-He was in the room. I didn't know he was gonna be in my room," the girl says, and I move to sit near them, not pushing my limits.

"Clara, it's okay. He means no harm," mom says, my eyes watching the girl push her hair back. I look her over, and immediately I can tell she's just as exhausted as I am. But she looks so mature for such a small frame.

Then she looks at me hesitantly and I find my interest captivated by her bright green eyes. And I know she recognizes me as soon as she gasps.

"Harry," she breathes out, my lips curving as I nod. She looks to Anne and I reach out to her, her eyes looking back up at me.

"I can help her mom," I say, mom smiling. Clara puts her hand in mine and I smile, helping her back into my room. I can't remember the last time I was in my own room with a girl. But this is completely different.

"I'll stay in the guest room. You stay right here," I tell her, her head nodding. It's so nice knowing she's not a super fan. I don't know what would have happened if she was. Don't get me wrong, those fans are the best. But under the same roof for who know how long...

"Thank you. And...sorry," she says, my eyes taking her in. She's cute.

"No worries. Just relax and have a good night," I tell her, grabbing one of my pillows and walking out of the room. As soon as I'm in the guest room, I crash.

My mom wakes me up hours after I went to bed, my exhaustion getting recuperated. I feel better and I walk downstairs and get something to eat, my eyes taking notice to the same girl sitting in a chair. She's looking out the window but looks to me when I enter the room.

But she looks away, knowing who I am but choosing not to react. It's almost refreshing.

"Mom," I whisper, walking towards her. And she looks up and begins to tell me exactly what I was going to ask.

"She's a foster. Her family was in a fire and her parents passed away and she's the only one still alive. I took her; she's unstable to be living on her own despite being eighteen," she explains, my eyes glancing back over at her.

Eighteen. She looks so...little. But her face is so mature. She's a very beautiful person.

"Does she talk much?" I ask, and she immediately shakes her head.

"You'd be lucky if you got a few sentences. She's shy, and she's..." she trails off, mouthing 'suicidal'. My eyes widen and she nods, my eyebrows frowning. I think suicide is so serious and I look back at her. Clara is beautiful and she has a lot of potential.

"Harry, please help her. Maybe...since she knows who you are, it could help. I don't want to lay this on you but I want her to be happy again. She doesn't see that her parents would want her to live a good life," mom explains, and I nod.

"I'll try. Has she been to the museum yet? I could take her?" I ask, loving the art museum. It's a way to escape and it just lets you wander in thoughts.

"No. But make sure you don't have the cameras again. That would make matters worse," she tells me, and I nod. So I make my way over to Clara and she looks up at me, her eyes so green it's almost hypnotizing. I've been told by multiple girls that they love my eyes, but I never really thought they were special. Hers are.

"Clara, would you like to go out with me today? To get out of the house?" I ask, her hands fisting her sweater. She's curled up so her knees are at her chest and I look back up at her face. Her pink lips are full and her hair is pulled back. All I want to do is brush my hand over her cheek from how sore it looks. It looks so tear-soaked and sore as if she's cried herself to sleep for weeks. The sight is enough to make anyone's heart break.

"I don't know," she whispers, my hand reaching out to hers again. I've learned from all my fans that holding hands and giving hugs is the best way to calm nerves.

But Clara just stares at my hand and I move it closer to hers, lightly touching her cool fingers. Then she wraps her hand around my fingers and I hold her hand, feeling as though I'm aiding a small child. But it's different. I want to prove to Clara I'm not some scary popstar who only cares about himself. Other people are very important to me and I've stayed very grounded since the band formed.

"We can just go out and relax. Take it easy today. It will help take your mind off things," I explain, her eyes so bright, but so pained.
She takes me by surprise as she nods, my lips curving. Then she stands up and I watch her slim body walk out of the room and upstairs.

"You did it," mom smiles, my lips curving.

"I don't know how to act on this...hang out," I tell her, mom nodding.

"Just watch her. Make sure nothing triggers her to cry or run away. She's very fearful and skiddish so be mindful. Respect her and the distance she may want. But Harry, please, comfort her when she needs it. Gemma had to help her with a breakdown in the middle of the mall the other day. She's a wreck and I want to do everything I can, with the two of you to help, to make sure she gets stable and healthy again."

I leave with her words, going upstairs to my room. The door is open and I see the bathroom door closed instead. So I knock, making sure she's okay, and she opens the door.

Clara's long brown hair is down, a sweater on her body, leggings on her thin legs, and grey shoes on her feet. Just looking at her...God she's gorgeous.

"I'm just gonna change. It'll be a few minutes," I tell her, and she nods. At least she responds rather than give blank stares. I've met some of mom's other patients before and those were interesting experiences.

I go to my room, grab some clothes, and change quickly. My hair is somewhat tamed on the top of my head and I grab my jacket. As I walk downstairs, I see mom giving Clara a hug. But what makes me happy is Clara reciprocates the gesture. At least I know she's okay and I hope today will help with her pain.

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