This Thing Upon Me [Order The eBook] [Harry Styles]

Chapter 42

"But they're still gonna comment on you whether you're on Twitter or not. People are gonna talk regardless, mate, we know that. We just gotta let them." I shrugged even though he couldn't see. "We don't have to let it affect us, though. That's a choice. That's what I had to learn too. And I totally get taking the power away from them by not reading and not engaging with what they're saying, but deleting everything? Mate, that's too far in my opinion. You've worked too hard to build up that account. You're losing more than you'll gain from that, one hundred percent guaranteed. And you're gonna miss it in a few days. And I already miss you. I already miss your stupid tweets," I laughed.

"Yeah, but...m'just thinkin'..."

"What?" I insisted when he hesitated too long. "Z?"

"Suppose I've been thinkin' of leavin' altogether, then, y'know? I'm just tired, Haz. Soh f--kin' tired. I've had enough of the whole thing. The noise, the fans, management, the tours. And I miss me fam, and me mum, her cookin, y'know. And me dad and sister...me friends. I've made enough money, I think. I'd never be able to spend it all, not as long as I'm livin'. I've just been givin it awayh lately. And I can't even make the music I wanna make, so why even bother, yeah? It's all bad, innit?" I shut my eyes with a grimace. He was making exceptionally good points that were becoming more and more difficult for me to refute. And I was sh-t at pep talks, it seemed. I was losing him.

"Mate, you're just upset right now," I said quietly. That's all. It's ok, it's gonna be ok, I promise. In a few days you'll feel a lot better, and you'll start to see the positives again, I swear."

"D'youh reckon?"

"I'm positive. Just give it a few days."

"Yeah...well..." he sighed.

"Please just don't make any rash decisions, ok? Please, Z? You hear me? Don't leave, I'm begging you. We need you, alright? It'll be so sh-t without you, mate. The whole thing'd fall apart. You're the only bloody thing holding me together whether you know it or not. I'll miss you too fooking much if you go." At that he let out a weary chuckle. I could feel him rubbing his face and eyes in frustration.

"Alright, Haz, alright," he relented. "I'll think about it, yeah?"

"Ok, good. That's a start. And just think of the millions of people who only send love everyday. What about them? They'd be devastated if you left. Just remember they'll always be there to support you. Just like me."

"Mm-hm...fanks, Haz..."

"I love you, okay?" He expelled a breath and returned the sentiment. When we hung-up, I was still unsure of where we stood, but hoped I'd talked him off the ledge enough for the time being.

**********

The next time I saw him we met up at his London house and played video games all afternoon in the gaming center on the second floor. It was basically a converted spare bedroom with one circular futuristic window that gave the place the look of a submarine, a giant leather sectional, a few beanbag chairs that came equipped with noise-canceling headphones, and a massive TV mounted to the wall. There were also vintage posters of some of his favorite games hung around the room (which he he planned on getting framed) like God of War, Call of Duty, and Grand Theft Auto from the 90s.

After a bit of discussion, we got him back on Twitter and he promised me he wasn't going anywhere for the time being. He told me he was sorry for scaring me. In my triumph, I had a lapse in good sense and crawled across the sofa to kiss him. The only thing I noticed was that his breath smelled like sugary soda. A blue raspberry slushie to be exact. It was the first time our lips had met since late 2011, although there had been some close calls and rogue cheek kisses in the meantime, but it was definitely the first time since he'd been with Perrie this year. When I backed off and made apologies, he couldn't help but laugh.