Who Is Harry?: Larry Stylinson

Author's Note: Hello! :) Well, I only have a few things to say at this point, seeing as it's just the beginning. This is an AU story, so no band. Some of you are already aware of my upload schedule and, anyone who's new to reading my stories, you can just check my page - for inquiry minds. Other than that, I always recommend reading the summary page first, so you can get a gist of what will be going on. Per-usual, I'm starting off with a Prologue. I hope you all enjoy xo.

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•Prologue

Harry's Point Of View.

I'm Harry. Harry Styles. People have a habit of calling me Harold, though that isn't my actual first name. They assume it is, I guess. I'm a bit of sheltered type of person - only going out of my way for obligations that may be worth something. I do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, which makes me a bore. Surprisingly, I'm more than okay with that. Why get caught in the dangers lurking at every corner when I can just mind my own business? Nonetheless, I'm not one for the dramatics; I would rather there be peace at all times and the sight of everyone getting along makes me happy. Growing up, I've always had to deal with people calling me out of my name: weirdo, scrawny, no back bone. How about my favorite, too kind-hearted? Since when did that become a terrible thing? My mom has had to constantly remind me, throughout my entire existence, that I'm just special - unique - and shouldn't think too much into what everyone else says. That's actually quite easy for me. Being carefree has its' perks.

Before my parents divorced, leaving my mother in a bit of a stressful matter, I was probably at the peak of my shattered, cold state. This might sound selfish of me to say, but I was actually happy about the divorce; our home hadn't actually been a home in years. With each slammed door and screeching shout echoing throughout the walls of our home, I became miserable. They thought they were protecting me and making me happy by sticking together - it was for my sake, as they always said - but the longer they clung on to such a disastrous situation, the more stressed I became. My mother always wondered why I didn't shed a single tear the day my father packed up and moved into a place of his own. If she knew how I felt about it, she would have probably proposed that I move in with him. She's not that strict; however, she can only tolerate so much. I don't want to be seen as a delinquent.

My source of excitement comes from reading old literature, torturing myself with a horror movie in the middle of the night, and baking pastries. Boring, right? Many people would look at it that way; as for me, it gives me stability. I'm only seventeen, so I have a lot of time on my hands, before I think of doing anything so daring and vile. Oh, and, if you're wondering, I'm not into the whole social network aspect of life. I think it deprives people from actually living. Why chat all day on the Internet when you'll see your peers at school, or in the neighborhood, everyday? My mom thinks that's very counterproductive of me and maybe she's right; but, who gets a joy out of admitting their wrongs? Not this guy. I often express myself through music - song writing, being an amateur vocalist - and sarcasm. Bit of a second language I have going on. My teachers and classmates don't ever hear the last of it , seeing as they can be a bit narrow-minded at times. I usually get sent to the principal's office, only to be sent right back to class a minute later. I weep for the school system. Not that I would want a severe punishment anyway.

If you're wondering about my love life, try not having one. It's non-existent, at this point. Seventeen year old senior and I haven't even experienced my real, first kiss. I kissed my best friend once; but it was just something we tried to get it out the way. Okay, I was lying. We actually kiss a lot; it has become something natural to us. Might not sound natural to others, but no one's telling. At least, when I die, I'll only like be ninety-nine-point-nine percent virgin. Though, in this modern day, that doesn't really count. I'm sure more than half of my school has either been in love or sexually active. Even my best friend has been able to experience love, which was followed by a heartbreak - making me less than eager to ever want to know what that's like. He cried for weeks and now he resents even dating that guy. I don't quite remember his name. Oh, that's right, they were together only for a day. Who would? I believe in fate, luck, love at first sight, all of those things. Do I believe it'll happen to me? No, I'm just Harry and when you get to know Harry, he's always the third wheel or the friend. A brotherly figure.