Act Two // Book One

Chapter Three

Harry took a few deep breaths before he got out of his car and took the few steps the entrance of the club Niall had mentioned on the phone. After staring at the ceiling in his now clean bedroom after Samantha had left he decided this whole scenario was doing nothing for him. He needed to at least try to live didn't he? Gwen wouldn't want him to be so swallowed up in his pain like this.

He took one look up at the dingy entrance. Sometimes it was hard to believe there was ever a time when he enjoyed coming to places like this. Since finding Gwen he had finally embraced the fact that he was a homebody who liked peace and quiet. Going home to be with her far outweighed the thumping bass and disgusting drunk people these places offered.

But all he was going to do at home was lay in bed and try to hold back the pain. He'd fall into a restless sleep, dream about Gwen, wake up sweating between 2-3 a.m. and then lay awake in the darkness while he tried not to focus on the fact that he was dying inside. Even dealing with this crap was more fun than that.

Niall looked up just as Harry passed through the front door. He quickly walked towards Harry,

"Harryyyyyyy!" He drawled in his thick Irish accent which seemed to have gotten thicker since the last time Harry had seen him.

He put his arm around Harry's shoulders,

"Glad ya came, Buddy. Want a drink?"

Harry shook his head,

"I drove."

Niall nodded, pulling Harry towards his group of friends. One good thing about hanging out with Niall was that he was a safe zone when it came to women. Niall's last girlfriend was Chloe and since they'd broken up he'd been about as uninterested in females as Harry had been. So at least Harry wouldn't have to worry about some random girl hanging all over him.

Niall thrust a bottle of water in Harry's hand and then sat down across from him. He was talking, quite animatedly actually, but Harry couldn't hear a word he was saying. So he simply nodded in agreement. He could have been nodding in agreement to a new One Direction album for all he knew.

Niall eventually directed his focus elsewhere which suited Harry just fine. He hated it when people hovered. He glanced around the club, studying faces of strangers while he aimlessly sipped from the water bottle Niall had handed him. No one seemed any the wiser that Harry was in their midst, which he considered a good thing. His first venture out in public in months didn't need to result in a mob scene.

Harry was about to glance away from a set of blue eyes he'd unwittingly focused on when he focused on the face they belonged to. She was pretty but seemingly didn't know it. She was standing just outside the velvet ropes blocking the VIP area off from the rest of the club. The smile she was wearing was rather unassuming.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Any other day, Harry would have risen from his spot and walked towards her. He'd have charmed her with a dazzling smile, bought her drinks for the evening and left with her phone number. And Harry did end up standing, but it was from the panic rifling through to his toes. Something had awakened inside of him that he hadn't felt in quite some time. Something he swore he would never feel for another human being ever.

He didn't react when Niall called his name out as he made a beeline for the same door he'd walked into a few moments later.

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Samantha woke up promptly at 6 a.m. the next morning. She set an alarm on her phone and also her alarm clock on the side of her bed. She had eaten and taken a shower and was on the tube to Harry's house by 6:30. She wouldn't be caught off guard this time. Not by Harry. Not by anyone.