|| Love to Hate Me ||

{Eighteen}

"And for the first time in my life
I'm gonna get myself right
Just get into trouble
Be there on the double."
-Threat Of Joy, The Strokes
_____________
A/N:
Just wanna say: gmbtch, your comments are cracking me up! 😂
__________

A swarm of fans stood outside the hotel. Liana and Harlan tried signing as much things as they could being pushed their way. It was cold—no telling how long most had been outside waiting just to catch a glimpse of them.

They took pictures with fans and chatted about the show, even answering off the wall questions. Harlan's typically nonsensical responses were actually short and vague; the lack of alcohol in his system changing his demeanor.

"Thanks so much guys, really." Liana waved, making her way to the hotel. Harlan followed; his head down with hands in his jacket.

They typically didn't get stopped outside the hotel, but the venue they played at had been next door. Some of the fans had even attended the concert, others had heard Harlan Hayworth was in town and decided to check it out.

Her eyes shifted to Harlan ever so often; his manner hard—but nearly unable to read. She grew worried, seeing that he was lost in his own head. She was panicking, driving herself mad wondering what was wrong.

Harlan's hand slipped in hers, pulling her into his side as they made their way to the elevator. He placed her hand in his pocket, squeezing her fingers as he held her hand in his jacket. He stared ahead—as if oblivious of his own gesture.

Liana couldn't peel her eyes away from his face; feeling his hand in hers. Physically, she was drawn. But his cold appearance was telling her to run away. Something was wrong; Harlan didn't have to say it with his mouth for Liana to know it.

They rode the elevator in silence. He took her hand out of his jacket, placing a small kiss on the back of her hand. When the shaft stopped on their level, Harlan released her hand, stepping out onto their floor.

Liana stopped in front of her room, ignoring Harlan as he continued on down the corridor. He clearly wanted to be alone—he just didn't know how to say it.

Harlan looked over, seeing that Liana was no longer beside him. He glanced over his shoulder, doing a double take when seeing that she was standing in front of her own room.

"Hey... what are you doin'?" Harlan asked, trailing to her side.

She swallowed hard, too intimidated to look him in the eye. "Going to bed? I don't know, you wanna be alone, so-"

"No I don't." Harlan's brows furrowed, shaking his head as he chewed on his lip.

"Then what's going on? Why are so... distant?"

Harlan's lips formed a hard line. He hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before slamming the side of his body into the doorframe. "Lee... it's really not what you think."

"Then tell me what it is."

"I... I haven't had a drink in thirty-six hours. I'm miserable. My body hurts, my head hurts... I'm tired. But I'm so fuckin' antsy... there's no way I can go to sleep."

"Are- are you okay?"

"Yeah." He nodded. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the tremors—she could see his fingers trembling as he leaned against the door. "I've been through this before. It's almost over. I just need to get through one more night then," the corner of his lips turned, "It's over."

She wasn't sure what Harlan was trying to say. "What's over?"

"Gettin' drunk all the time. I quit. It's over." Harlan said. He saw the shock in her eyes—the amazement and the disbelief. If he was going to find out what this was, he couldn't do it drunk out of his mind. It was worth it—she was worth it. Alcohol would always be there, Liana on the other hand may not be. He had to at least give it a shot.

"That's... that's... incredible, Harlan, really. Wha- what happened? What made you wanna do this?" Liana stuttered, folding her arms in order to keep them from wrapping around him.

Harlan smiled weakly; his face twisting eccentrically—a comedic borderline cringe. "You did." He admitted.

Liana couldn't contain it anymore; she wrapped her arms around him, pulling his chest into the side of her face. Harlan moved her hair away from her neck; tossing the strands back over her shoulders. His hands found her neck, coaxing her to look up.

He held her face in his hands, trying to display the emotions he felt. It was difficult to smile—he was happy but too weak to show it. Liana was proud of him.

"I'm a masochist, apparently. You made me swear off chicks, so I took it a step further and decided to suffer in an even more miserable way." He tried joking, barely able to choke out a small laugh.

She placed her hands over Harlan's, smiling wide. She wasn't sure why, but goddamn did she want to cry.

Harlan could see her eyes beginning to gloss in the fluorescent lights. "Oh baby, don't cry." He pulled her into another tight embrace. "I'm too tired to comfort you." He smiled—effortlessly now.

Liana actually cared about Harlan and his well-being. It was strange—he wasn't sure he could recall a time when anyone ever cared for him like this. He had thought at one time she had cared, but it had all been a lie.

"Will you hold me 'til I fall asleep?" Harlan asked, breaking into a frail smile, watching her nod. "Well can we sleep in your room... it's closer. I don't know how much further I can walk without fallin' down." Harlan let go of Liana's face, leaning his weight into the frame. She slid in her keycard, chuckling in embarrassment. "And no funny business. I wanna be at the top of my game when that happens." Harlan winked with a click of his tongue.

Harlan wanted her to snap back; to say something clever and insulting to distract him from how awful he felt. Instead, her cheeks blushed and her smile widened.