The Other Harry #Wattys2015

Chapter 2

-Chapter 2-

When you're seventeen you don't really think about dying. Don't get me wrong, it happens, I know it does. One day you've got your headphones in and you don't notice the boy racer speeding round the corner until his white Honda Civic ploughs into you. There are accidents, you get sick, you trip up and fall on the train tracks, or you do what my dad did and chase down a bottle of whiskey with a couple boxes of pain killers. One minute you're there and the next...poof...you just aren't. It gets everyone eventually.

But as far as utterly insane deaths go, getting shot by a naked member of the band One Direction has to be up there with some of the craziest.

My sister Chantelle has no idea what is going on either. Caught up between what I can only guess is shock, pure terror and utter adoration, I don't blame her for bursting in to noisy, trembling tears

Don't they always say that you should never meet your heroes? And my sister's hero happens to have a gun in her face.

I've still got my eyes on Harry Styles (and Jesus Christ I still can't believe I'm saying that and this is happening) but the sound of my sister wailing makes me want to knee him right in the groin. If the gun were removed from the equation, I'm about one hundred percent sure that's what I would do.

Harry Styles hears Chantelle too and the gun waivers.

From behind me, I worry that Joey has spotted that small moment of weakness. I can feel him tensing up, the way that a cat might before it's about to pounce.

"H- Harry?" I start, trying to speak calmly but also quickly, before Joey does something dumb. "I...it is Harry right?" He doesn't correct me. My hands go up and I try my best to force a smile, "I'm Tish, this is my brother, J-"

"Don't," he breathes in sharply, taking a step back as I gingerly take a step forward and the gun gets higher than ever.

"Look just...tell her it's okay," he says nodding to Chantelle.

"You'd convince her more if you put the gun down," I say, doing my best to keep the shaking out of my voice. "Do you need help, is that it? What's happened?"

He shakes his head and says after a crazed, bitter laugh, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." The half formed smile makes him more recognisable in that moment. Afterall, we're not used to seeing our popstars naked, terrified and pointing guns. "I need money...I need...trousers....I need...just, please."

One minute I'm convinced he's not going to shoot us and the next he makes these desperate demands and I'm back to being afraid again. If he wants money, he has the wrong bloody house. Looking around at the peeling wallpaper, stucco sticking up the cracks, anyone could see that we aren't exactly rolling in money.

"Look," I say. "You've had a bad bump on the head...you're confused...we'll get you some money and some trousers when you put. the. gun. down."

It isn't working. I almost want to join Chantelle and start crying too.

"He isn't here anymore," I add desperately, my voice a whisper passed between the two of us. "The man in the suit chasing you. It's okay, he's gone. I saw him leave." After he shot and killed one of our neighbours, I neglect to add.

There's a moment when I forget to breathe, my heart skips a beat and a strange heavy hush falls over us with only the sound of the tv chattering on in the background. Harry lowers the gun, his eyes then flickering towards the screen as something pushes past me.

Everything moves in slow motion and I'm screaming, "Joey!" before I even realise I have my mouth open.

Harry, too preoccupied with the sight of himself on the television, doesn't fight back when Joey grabs him round the waist, pushing him to the floor. He gives up the gun easily but tries to scrabble upwards. The boys tussle and I hear Joey grunting as he claws at the face of the boy from One Direction, before Harry Styles jerks his head up and looks back at the TV.