Besties point of view!!!!!!!
He came back. Harry actually came back for her and I can't quite seem to believe it.
At first I was convinced that he was some sort of mirage. In all fairness, staying awake all night had really taken it out of me, thus the consequence of being so delusional that I'd actually conjured up a hallucination of Harry wouldn't be something unexpected as to say. Especially after the 'few' drinks I had already consumed.
I can't quite believe how exhausted I truly am, although I originally was planning on being awake til the early hours of the morning - I thought it'd be for an incredibly different reason. A reason which was involving far more alcohol, partying, strippers and sex.
But, as a lifelong best friend, I have duties I must uphold.
I'd never have expected to be comforting Evie over a breakup, particularly not on my 21st birthday out of all the days possible for her to pick. And on top of that, it's not just any ordinary breakup.
No, rather it's a breakup with my mother fucking idol.
The man I have adored for the best part of ten years. The man I have cried over way too many times to count, and have daydreamed about planning our wedding - which soon turned to me daydreaming of his and Evie's weddings. Because, if I can't have him, at least my best friend can.
No matter how stupid the situation may have seemed on the surface, every singly damn time, Evie has been there to comfort and wipe away my tears - whether that be the day my mom gave me concert tickets as an early Christmas present, or the release day for each of their albums, the day it was announced Zayn was leaving the band. And of course, quite possibly the worst day of my life - the day they announced their '18 month hiatus'.
But this time, it's my turn to comfort her.
Ever since I've known the girl, I assumed that her first real relationship she got into would be it for her. She'd marry the guy. Point blank period. End of discussion.
Of course it had occurred to me that there was the possibility that I'd have to assist through some arguments. But never, did it once cross my fucking mind that I'd be supporting her through a break up.
That's just not Evie.
She's completely opposing to me, she doesn't just date for the utter sake of dating.
Evie dates to fall in love.
And that's exactly what she did. She fell in love with him. And that's the exact same reason I had to spend the night wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks.
It's so fucking obvious that there is far more that she needs to talk about. But first, all she needs to do is clear her head, and sort through everything that has happened, by herself so she can honestly process it.
Then, when she's ready to talk, I'm more than ready to listen.
As for now, we sit in silence and watch all the sappy romance movies she wants - of course starting with none other than Grease. I thought it might cheer her up as it is her favorite movie. But to my dismay, she seemed so numb that I was genuinely scared.
Not a whisper, not a single tear, not even a movement. There she sat, positioned upright with her legs crossed, almost like she was a fragile doll being displayed in a glass cabinet that was stuck in place with wooden rods and nails.
I must admit, as Hopelessly Devoted To You was about to start, I legitimately held my breath and the amount of relief that washed over me as she faintly mouthed the words, almost knocked me out like a massive fuck off tsunami crashing over me.
It wasn't until she picked to watch The Notebook that she showed any sort of emotion. Her words came out strangled as we flicked through Netflix and she suddenly stopped me, saying that's what she wanted to watch.
Throughout the entirety of the movie I was consistently checking up on her, glancing in the least obvious way I could. We were only about 20 minutes into the movie when a scene came on with the two lovers dancing around in the ocean, and as they kissed in the water I heard the most heartbreaking sob come from Evie.
When I turned to look at her she had silent tears streaming down her face and that's what broke me more than anything.
I pulled her into my lap and just held her as she let all her emotions go. The tears didn't stop until she fell asleep. She wasn't asleep for long, but she ignored me pleas for her to get some rest - so instead she chose to shower.
I, on the other hand, have barely blinked because I had to make sure she was okay, even when she was sleeping. I could still see the discomfort on my face and my focus was drawn nowhere but the worry lines creased in her forehead as my thumbs drew small circles across her damp cheeks.
But he came back.
"Were you talking to somebody?" Evie's voice comes across small and scratchy and would easily be lost in the wind, yet it still managed to startle me because I was finally relaxing now I knew Harry was back.
I twist around on the sofa so I'm facing her, her wet blonde hair brushed neatly down her back and a soft white towel wrapped around her small frame, with her fist gripping it at the top.
She looks almost angelic, so pure and so beautiful. If only I could protect her from the world forever.
"Hi sweet E. Are you feeling any better?" I ask, partly out of shock that she didn't go straight to her room and partly because she's asking as if she hasn't seen Harry although he was right here a mere moment ago.
"A little better. Sorry, I swear I heard you talking to someone a moment ago." She shyly repeats and I have to do my best to make it not so apparent that I'm staring at her reddened eyes. They just look so sore and painful, yet she's doing her best to act completely okay.
She's not fucking okay. I wish that I could fix this for her, I wish I could take all this away from her and I really fucking wish that she would allow herself to feel what she needs to instead of just worrying about how her emotions effect the others around her. Right now, she is front and foremost the most important person, and she needs to put herself above everything else.
E just doesn't want to worry me. She's always protected me, but sometimes she goes too far. For some reason, she doesn't understand that I'm her best friend and not her young child who needs to be sheltered from the reality of how she feels.
We're in this together, even though she may not realize it just yet. We've always been in this together.
"Yea, lovey, I was." I keep my words ambiguous as I scan the room, and I notice through the gap in the doorway the familiar appearance of a phone on the counter, plugged into the charger.
He can't have gone far if he actually left.
Maybe he's gone to get something, or just stepped out for some fresh air.
"Was- was it Harry?" Evie questions, her eyes widening with hope but her anxiousness is shown through the harsh bite she has on her lip and the way she seems to be rocking back and forth slightly on the balls of her feet.
"Mhm, it was. I'm sure he's gonna be back in two minutes Sweet E, why don't you go and put some comfy clothes on." I encourage, trying to hide my nervous sweat about Harry leaving again.
He wouldn't have shown up, and hugged me and asked where she was when I begged him to fix things with her.
And his phone is still here.
"Oh. Good idea. Thank you Es." Evie responds, her voice faint and confused, almost unaware of the fact Harry actually came back - just to disappear again.
My gaze follows Evie's slow steps down to the end of the hallway until she reaches her bedroom door. She doesn't hesitate to open it, and once closed, she's out of my sight and I let out a shaky breath.
I can't seem to act normal around her. I don't even notice my spike in anxiety when she's near, but it's apparent the second she's gone. I seem to always be holding my breath as though she's frail china and the smallest gust of wind will shatter her.
It's incredibly hypocritical of me to want her to act how she really feels around me when she's only worried about me acting the way I'm currently acting around her.
With Evie in her room, I collapse back onto the sofa, being consumed by the comforter. As I raise my knees to my chest, curling my arms around them in a hope for comfort, I also allow my eyes to calmly drift closed, followed by me leaning my heavy head on my knees, using the bunched up material of my joggers as a sort of pillow.
Just as the thumping in my ears begins to calm, the alarming sound of phone notifications reawake me from my limbo state.
I push it to the back of my mind, trying to block it out in the thought that they'd stop momentarily.
But the pinging sound doesn't stop.
The buzzing vibrations of the phone mixed with the ringtone pinging doesn't abode well with my sleep deprivation, hangover concoction.
With a groin, I unwind my arms from around my legs and harshly wipe at my eyes in order to wake me up a little more because I really feel like I'm about to start hallucinating if I don't get any rest some time soon.
As I continue to hear the noise, I notice how my phone doesn't seem to be flashing up with any sort of notifications, but non the less, in my current disposition, I still pick up the cracked screen and continue to switch off my ringer - which appears to already be off.
So, it's not my phone making the noise.
In a delirious gaze, I glance around the apartment in search of the noise, doing my best to not become unbalanced by moving my pounding head too fast in one direction.
Then, in the hallway, I can see the wall being lit up with the reflection of a phone screen that's left on the hallway table.
Harry's phone.
Begrudgingly, I slide off of the couch and readjust my joggers as I take a slow walk out into the hallway his phone is resting in. All the way, the phone continues to buzz and I really can't fathom what it could be that's got his phone blowing up - unless his number has somehow been leaked.
I unplug the phone as I pick it up, noticing the many notifications popping up on the screen. The first thing I do is switch the phone so it's on silent because the noise is sending me into a downward spiral.
I can't help but be intrigued, not to be nosy, but just in case it could be something important, I allow my focus to drift across the screen and it appears all the messages coming through are from Mitch.
*Where the fuck are you?*
*What the fuck have you done?*
*Call me*
*Pick up your damn phone*
*Harry what the fuck has happened*
But it's the last message that really makes my heart stop and stomach sink.
*Please tell me you didn't fucking cheat on Evie*
My body begins to take over, my brain lagging with everything I'm doing as I'm unlocking Harry's phone
This can't be happening. I know this isn't happening.
Rather than going to the messages, I immediately open twitter on the chrome browser and of course, trending is Harry. More specifically pictures of him and some girl.
Some girl who's not Evie.
Pictures of him and this girl in a tight red dress, with her hand laced in Harry's and she seems to be flashing an incredibly superficial smile to the cameras as though she's enjoying all of the attention.
I continue to scroll through the pictures plastered across twitter and I only catch glimpses of comments; people wondering who the woman is, people asking about Evie, but most just fans talking about how good Harry looks. It's not unsurprising of the fandom to brush over the topic in hand and directly focus on his appearance rather than the actions he's fucking taken to get here.
He didn't cheat on her though. He couldn't have. I saw him this morning - why would he have come back if he had cheated? Why would he have acted so normal, so- ugh I don't even know.
Oh.
He didn't cheat, because they broke up last night.
Fuck.
Harry came here after being with her last night, because not only did he show up this morning in the same clothes he was wearing at my birthday yesterday, but he's wearing the same clothes in the pictures of him and this girl.
My brain can't seem to catch up with the reality of what I'm viewing because I'm in no way processing this right now.
Just as I'm about to click on a new photo, the bar at the top of the screen flashes up with a message from an unknown number.
My finger taps on the message before I've even had the time to register the fact a message came through. It's like my body has switched onto autopilot and every thing is just happening too quick it's more like flashes of a situation.
I scan the message once, twice and a third and fourth time. This can't be real.
*Hey boo, can't thank you enough for all the fun last night, really know how to make a girl 'a devil in between the sheets' ;) thought you might want to check the article out for yourself Harry. Keep in contact, I'm always up for a bit of fun boo x*
At the bottom of the message is a URL link that is staring at me, just waiting to be clicked but I can't seem to bring myself to click the screen.
Finally, my finger taps the screen and I feel my skin begin to crawl and once again I find myself holding my breath because I feel like if I don't do it on my own accord, I'll be fighting for air that's been stolen from the room.
Immediately the screen flicks to a loading symbol before opening up on a magazine website, which momentarily refreshes the page, leading my attention to the bold title.
"INSIDE THE BEDROOM WITH MR. SHE FEELS SO GOOD.
Is the singer songwriter as good in bed as his songs make him out to be - an inside perspective on Harry Styles' sex life from a first hand encounter"
The phone slips from my hand and back onto the table with a thud as I let out a small whimper. Nothing seems to click within me though, I stand frozen for a miscellaneous amount of time, unsure of what to do next.
I keep replaying the way I begged him to fix things with Evie as I hugged him so tightly this morning and he acted as if nothing had happened - as if he hadn't just come home from fucking another god damn girl.
Before I realize, I'm gripping Harry's phone in my hand once again and I'm storming to Evie's room with anger radiating from my whole being.
I can't believe he fucking did this.
And to Evie of all people, the kindest soul you'd have ever met and he goes and does this. She's already heartbroken. This is going to destroy her.
As soon as I reach her door, the anger within me has quickly dissipated and rather I'm filled with hurt and sorrow. Not for anyone but Evie.
How am I supposed to break this to her?
Do I even tell her? Or do I just leave it and hope that something else has happened and it's all just some massive misunderstanding.
No. I can't not tell her.
Not after the way I reacted after I found out she was secretly dating Harry to begin with. If I were to keep this from her, then I'd be even more in the wrong than she ever was. And even if it'll break me, I'd rather be the one to tell her instead of her finding out for herself, because at least this way I can be there for her.
"Evie?" I whisper as I give a pathetic light knock against her door. Before I even have the chance to take my hand away from the door, it's been swung open creating a light breeze from how quick she opened it.
"Is Harry back?" She asks ever so eagerly, her blank expression clearly just masking her nervousness.
"I'm so sorry E." Is all I can manage to stumble out in response, and her face falls as she notices the few stray tears I was trying to conceal, slip from my eyes.
"I don't understand." She furrows her eyebrows together, clearly taken aback by my sudden switch in emotions from minutes ago when I was sitting on the couch and asking if she was okay.
I can't believe I really am going to have to break her heart even more right now.
How the fuck do I even begin?
There's something you really need to see Evie, it's about Harry." The silence is clearly suffocating the both of us, so here goes nothing - or, I guess, everything.
"It's about Harry and another woman, from last night."
Hi my besties, did we all enjoy Esme's POV - kind of bittersweet.... or just very bitter.
Good news, I have two more exams this week and then I'm done with school until I start Uni at the end of September, so that means my whole time will be devoted to finishing Wildfire... and then this summer I'll be working on two new projects - which I'm so damn excited for - but we'll get to that later on.
I won't leave you hanging much longer for the next chapter my sunflowers!