HARRY'S POV
"For fucks sake. How many studio sessions do we have scheduled after today?" I question my manager, Tim, over the phone with my arm resting on the table holding my head. We never really get along, but since I was signed with Sony Music I was stuck with him because his management came with the contract.
"Styles, I've already told you this. You have one every day besides Wednesday. You have a photoshoot on Friday as well." I can sense his attitude over the phone. I really hate this prick with everything in me.
"And I already told you this, Tim. I need Friday cleared. Whole day. Nothing planned. Got it? Good." I don't give him time to retaliate and argue against me before I hang up and slam my phone down on my kitchen table as I run my fingers through my hair, gripping it slightly.
I'm a grown ass man, I don't need someone to tell me what I can and cannot do on a daily basis. Plus, I already told him I had something to do Friday; The most important thing I had planned this week, the thing I've been looking forward to since last Friday night.
I don't know what came over me to ask Willow on the date, but I feel something different with our newly built friendship. I want to get to know her better than the others, I want to get to know the little details about her past or about the present.
So what if I have a little crush? She's intriguing.
Plus, going out will give us time to discuss more about her songs and her ownership over them. All the credentials and that shit that's included in the fine print on every album, I need to make sure I figure out how she wants to be credited and how much she wants to be paid for her songs.
When she called me after her art show, my mood instantly flipped from the hangover I was having. Her call took away the headache and the soreness coursing through my body from the night before right away. I went out to the bar like I do almost every other night, but I took it a little overboard and almost blacked out last time.
Sue me.
The studio session today mentally kicked my ass. We worked on Woman again, but something was still off on it. Shit, the whole fucking album was still off.
I had about five fucking songs in total that I had finally written, only one of them being completely recorded and finalized and that was From the Dining Table. I have no idea where I'm going with this album in terms of titles or covers, I can barely create a track list.
Monday studio sessions always sucked because everyone was always drowsy from their weekend. But today was probably the worst one yet since my pianist, Naomi, didn't show up creating a restriction on our progress for songs, which we didn't need right now.
***
"Where's Naomi?" I shut the door behind me after glancing around the studio only seeing four band members instead of five- Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte, and Adam.
No one answered me and everyone refused to make eye contact. Sarah and Charlotte started to pretend to get their instruments together and Adam was just staring out the window. They all clearly heard me, so I cleared my throat to make at least one of the speak up.
"H, she um- she won't make it today she's doing a mini gig at a bar." Mitch says over his shoulder as he messes with the several controls, flicking different switches to get things ready.
So none of them decided to tell me to keep me from getting mad?
"She's what? Why didn't she tell any of us?"
"She did. She told Tim and she texted me last night about it, so I told Mitch when I got here." Charlotte walked over with her guitar hanging from her shoulder and handed me a water bottle to try and ease my irritation.
Why the hell did Tim not tell me?
I break the seal of the bottle and take a long sip out of it to mask my annoyed attitude towards the situation. This is in no way Naomi's fault, everyone in the band has side gigs or other jobs so I completely understand.
What I don't understand is how Tim fails at his job every single time. I fucking hate that man. He's supposed to be my manager and make things easier, not harder that's his fucking job, that stupid bloke.
"Okay, well I guess we can't work on Sign of the Times since that's like majorly based around the piano. We're gonna just have to keep messing around with Willow's song so we can try and get it right." I huff out as I throw my bag down on the black leather couch that accompanied the wall that the door was on, which was across from the control panels.
"You do know it's basically your song now and it also has a name." Sarah speaks up from her seated position behind her drum set.
"It's still Willow's song, I won't take even half the credit for it until we finalize it."
"Who's Willow?" Adam looks in between Sarah and I. Sometimes I forget not everyone knows who Willow is. Maybe she would want to meet the band one day, I don't see any harm in that.
Who wouldn't want to meet the people who would be bringing her songs to life?
"Our friend" Sarah, Mitch and I all speak up at once causing us to laugh out at the same time. I swear those two have their brains connected. It's sometimes scary how alike they are, now it's rubbing off onto me.
"You guys are so weird." Adam rolls his eyes and walks over to grab his guitar and goes to write on our whiteboard that had a bunch of different ideas for the album all over it. I watch as he draws six stick figures with mini instruments in their hands. "Look it's us, the Sarah Jones band!"
"What the-" I go to protest but Sarah interrupts me.
"Hell yeah it is." She gloats as she points one of her drumsticks in my direction. "Now come on Styles, we have some songs to record."
***
With the months passing by, the stress of the album became more prominent because I needed it finalized by October for it's release date. Just thinking about music right now is causing a pounding headache to overtake my mind.
Medicine doesn't work since it's never strong enough, so the thing I replace it with is the only thing to distract my mind from both the pain and the stress.
Alcohol.
Not the healthiest remedy, but it helps. It's not like I can't control myself with it. I still have a grip of control when it comes to alcohol, I just tend to drink it a lot more since I moved to America.
Loneliness and anxiety drove me to relish in the toxic substance and the state that it put me in.
No one knew about my slight drinking problem and quite frankly I don't feel the need to let anyone help me. I don't need the help, I have it under control. I don't let it go too far, I'm far too dependent without it.
I swiftly get up from my spot at my slick black kitchen table to head to the cabinets above the fridge. I open them to grab the half empty bottle of whiskey and trudge over to my couch, turning on the surround sound to let music softly play through the speakers.
My house is nowhere as colorful or lively as Willow's flat. I told her that and her response, "Don't even, your house probably portrays you just as much as mine portrays me." was true in every aspect.
My apartment was big, but lonely, not every colorful, modern, and almost seemed like it wasn't lived in.
This is exactly how I reflect on myself- lonely, dull, tired, ordinary. My mind was my biggest enemy when it came to self reflection, but it was also one of the things I took pride in the most. Being able to put on a happy, fulfilling front was a very special talent of mine.
No one would be able to tell that my walls were building up so high that they're destined to crumble at some point.
Playing a part to mask the pain was tiring, but my mind was always restless so it didn't really matter.
Don't get me wrong, whenever I hang out with Willow and my other three newly founded friends, I feel the most myself. The happiness and social battery are both recharged in me and I feel replenished.
Spending time with them was like the first shot of alcohol, easing everything in my mind. It was very dangerous because I was scared of getting attached to them like I got attached to the feeling of being intoxicated.
I feel like myself whenever I'm in their presence and with no judgement being found. If my walls were to be built up around them, they were all just built with glass. No matter if I wanted them to be built transparent or not, those four would be able to see right through the lies no matter what.
Mitch knew me better than any of them, being that he is probably my best friend. I knew that his role of playing best friend was shared between Willow and I, but I never felt threatened. Their relationship was different than ours, you simply couldn't put the two in a competition.
All I know is that I'll more than willingly share Mitch as a best friend with Willow because how selfish could someone be to forbid anyone from being Mitch's friend.
If anything, I'm so thankful Willow was okay with Mitch taking the role as both of our support systems, she was here before I was and their bond seemed unbreakable.
Who was I fucking kidding, all four of the stooges bonds were inseparable.
They were made to be friends, it was clear as day to any person with a brain. With their hang outs every Saturday, or Milo working with Mitch, to Sarah's full heart for all of them, or Willow being their bond's glue, it was very noticeable that they were like one big support team for each other without even meaning to.
I take a swig straight from the bottle, feeling it go down my throat making my eyes pinch and almost water. This happens every time, the burn mixed with the bitter taste is the worst thing with the first sip, but sometimes bad things are addictive, leaving you to want more.
I made sure the lights were dimmed throughout the living room because my headache was still very present and the brightness just made it worse. As I stay slouched on my couch with both my arms spread across the back of it, the bottle never leaving my right hand I sit in my dark colored house with my dark colored mind.
The television was hung up nicely on my wall above the fireplace, which didn't need to be lit since it was the middle of August, allowing me to just stare back at my reflection in the glass. I take in the man staring back at me, black shirt hung loosely on my tattooed body accompanied by my gray trousers. I didn't even get to change after the studio session today since I was in a time crunch needed to participate in a business call then get bombarded by my shitty manager after it was over.
Everyone in the band was so excited for me to sign with Sony Music, but I don't know how to feel about it.
They've seemed to do nothing but cram my schedule and never take in what I have to say. I'm not stupid, I know working in the industry is hard and stressful, but I feel like this label is sketchy and very selfish.
They remind me of money hungry bastards who don't care about anything until their hands are on the decent amount of cash that's given to them by the faces of their company- Mine being one of them.
Having me signed with this label has also had it's advantages though, so I'm still trying to weigh out the pros and cons. I know I'm not a worldwide superstar, but ever since I've joined Sony Music my followers have gone up, the amount of gigs being thrown my way is insane, and people are starting to suggest me going to interviews and doing more professional shit.
This is everything I've wanted. I want people to hear the music I create and love it as much or even more than I do. I want people to relate to me and have someone to feel comforted by because that's all I've ever wanted to find in someone else.
Always told myself, if you can't find it, stop seeking and start being what you need.
Before I can notice, I have only a sip of whiskey left in the bottle and my eyes are glazed over creating an intoxicated state to overtake my mind. My music is still playing and my house is almost pitch black given that the sun has completely gone down and that I barely turned on my lights.
The reflection that was once staring back at me in the fireplace is now gone and I'm completely left alone. I go to finish the whiskey, lifting it up to my mouth, but am interrupted by a knock on my front door. In confusion, I lean forward and put the bottle on my coffee table, pause the music, and lift myself off the couch to start heading towards my door. I check my watch and it says it 10:00 P.M..
Who the fuck would be knocking this late at night and unannounced?
I open the door and am met with green-yellowish eyes staring right back at me with a suggestive look plastered on the person's face. Her dyed blonde hair cascading in waves past her shoulders, I've never really taken in her appearance for too long but I guess the alcohol coursing through me is slowing my brain down.
"Well are you gonna keep staring at me or can I come in?" KC questions as she leans against the doorframe.
"What? What are you doing here?" I tried not to make my words come out slurred, but I was at the point of being drunk where others could clearly tell. Alcohol doesn't affect me as much as it used to, I've consumed so much in that in order to get plastered, I would have to drink to the point of liver failure.
"Noticed how tense you were when you came through the lobby earlier, thought I could help since my shift is over. Apparently alcohol beat me to it." She pushed passed me to walk into my apartment, making me shut the door and lean against it so I could keep an eye on her as she slipped off her sandals, leaving them by my front door.
The only time KC and I hooked up was when we were both drunk, it was the time that the apartment building threw a welcoming party for me since I had just moved into it.
My complex was full of rich people, usually the average business men and some famous people, so you could say there was a bunch of expensive alcohol at the party.
Then one thing led to another and I was railing KC in my bedroom at three in the morning.
"KC, you do know it was a one time thing." I raise my eyebrows at her as she ignores my statement and walks over to place both her hands on my shoulders, using them as leverage to lift herself up onto her balls of her feet to whisper in my ear.
"Come on, just this once Harry. I'm right here, use me as a distraction from your sooo stressful day." I don't know what overtook me, but before I knew it I was spinning us around and pushing her body against the door, taking both her hands in one of mine and pinning them above her head.
I lean forward just enough to whisper in her ear causing goosebumps to rise over her skin, "You want this, yeah?" I feel her head nod next to me and I waste no time attaching my lips to her neck making her breath hitch in her throat.
She's very impatient and starts squirming, I guess she was really desperate that's why she decided to show up at my place.
I knew I was good the first time, but I never expected her to practically beg for me again... all she's doing is feeding my drunken ego.
I nudge my knees in between her thighs to spread them apart and to force her to stop clenching them together. "Tell me what you want KC. Where do you want me to fuck you huh? Right here on the door?" I lift my head away from her neck to stare into her eyes, needing to hear words from her.
"Wherever you want, just give me you." she whispers out as her head is fallen back on the door and she already seems out of breath. I haven't even done anything yet and we're just getting started.
"Still that same little slut that begged last time, right?" Knowing that degrading her gets her more riled up, she moans just at my words and frantically nods her head and hums at my question before my lips reattach to her neck sucking hard enough to cause a bruise to appear.
I only break my lips away to peel off her tiny shirt and drop it next to her feet.
I drag my free hand down to her jeans and start unbuttoning them and in no time I'm pulling them off her legs, just to throw them somewhere behind me.
I kiss up her jaw and up to her ear.
I pull her earlobe in between my teeth and without a warning I let go of her hands just to sneak my hands underneath her to grip her ass and lift her up off the ground. Her legs instantly wrapping around my hips and her hands threading in the back of my hair, tugging instantly.
My mouth opens against hers in a sigh, allowing her tongue to instantly invade my mouth in a messy kiss, hers fighting for dominance against my own. I allow her to win because I have something in mind for tonight, that something is making her feel like she has control for once.
I know she can taste the whiskey during our kiss because she never breaks her mouth away from mine, not even for a breath of air.
She's biting down on my bottom lip and running her tongue over it to ease the pain as it snaps back into place, only for her lips to mash right back into mine.
I walk over to the couch with her body in my hands and plop down, causing her to sit on my lap. Her core hovers over mine since she has both her knees on either side of my legs, which I don't like so I grab her hips with both my hands and pull her down so she can feel what her body is doing to mine.
I'm not interested in her as a person, that's why I wasn't going to hook up with her again.
She insisted this and I'm too drunk to deny that it sounded like a good idea to ease my mind.
As soon as her body was pulled down, it's like her hips have a mind of their own as she instantly starts to grind over my now hard dick and she moans as her clit is being stimulated through the fabrics covering both our cores.
Her hands travel up underneath my shirt and she pulls her lips away from mine for a split second to rapidly peel off my shirt and throw it behind her, mimicking the same action I did with her jeans over by the front door.
I let her have her fun basically dry humping me until her nimble hands go to unbuckle my belt.
She unlatches her mint flavored lips from my whiskey enriched mouth since she needs to see how to undo the buckle, but her hips never stop moving since she was in desperation for some type of relief.
All I can think about right now is if Willow were to be the one doing this. I know how bad and douchey that sounds but that woman has a special spot in my mind and it's starting to overtake it right now.
I really hope it's just the alcohol making me think this.
She deserves to be thought of in a better sense and not when I'm about to fuck another girl.
KC lifts up her hips enough to pull my trousers down my thighs making them pool by my ankles allowing me to kick them off onto the side.
My erection is very visible as it strains against my tight boxers and she peers down only for a smirk to grow on her face, "That looks painful," her eyes shoot up to look at me again, the dim lighting making her very dilated eyes seem much darker than when she first showed up, "Maybe I can help with that?"
I shrug at her with my eyebrow raised, my mouth opens to say something but before I can, she interrupts me. "Did you get a new tattoo?" She's talking about the new tiger tattoo I got on my thigh about a month ago, it's pretty big and very detailed, probably one of my new favorites.
"Mhm" I hum out and it's like she's mesmerized by it and I'm starting to get impatient since I'm in pain.
I hiss out as she palms me a little bit harder over the underwear and moves one of her knees in the middle of my open thighs, causing her to find a new position of her straddling just the thigh with the tiger on it. "What are you-" my words get caught in my throat when she lowers herself on top of the dark inked design on my thigh.
"Oh I see. You wanna ride my thigh like the dirty whore you are, yeah?" She just closes her eyes and throws her head back at my words. Her hips going faster with my hands helping her stay stable on my tanned thigh.
She's practically dripping through her tiny lace underwear as she rides my thigh and her arousal is coating my leg.
Her lips start to kiss up and down my neck, but when she goes to bite down underneath my jaw, I weave my fingers through the roots of her hair and pull her head back roughly.
I click my tongue when our eyes meet, "Now we've been over this the first time baby. No marks on me. Only you." She rolls her eyes at my strict tone as she still is rubbing her clothed heat over my bare thigh.
Her action only gets me more pissed, so I give up trying to give her control and flip us over on the couch with her body beneath mine.
She gasps as I rip her underwear completely off her body and throw them down with my trousers without a word leaving my lips.
I don't even bother taking my briefs off all the way, I just free my dick from the very restrictive material and reach over in the drawer of my coffee table grabbing a foil packet out of it.
There's basically condoms in every draw in my house for circumstances just like these.
Always have to stay protected. Never catch me having unprotected sex... ever.
I hold the packet in front of KC's mouth and nod my head down towards it to indicate for her to rip it open with her teeth.
She obliges to my silent request, making me mumble a quick 'good girl' to her and remove my left hand from the grip on her waist, dragging it up to her neck to choke her while I slide the condom on.
"This alright, yeah?" I murmur out and ask for consent with our newly found position and she just nods her head as an airy 'yes' leaves her lips as her hands are grabbing my biceps.
Without a warning I line my dick up with her entrance and slam right into her, causing her to almost scream out in surprise.
I hold still waiting for her muscles to adjust to my size. Once she's settled I draw my hips back very slowly to the point where only my tip is in her, then I thrust into her very hard.
I watch as her eyes roll into the back of her head and my grip around her neck to tighten. I didn't bother taking off my HS rings, so I know there might be bruises from how hard the grip is.
"Touch yourself baby, come on." I coax her to let go of my biceps that she was holding onto very tightly, almost leaving nail marks in.
Both of KC's hands leave my arms, one going down to rub circles around her bundle of nerves and the other taking hold of my wrist that was holding her throat.
Once her fingers are working her clit, I instantly start picking up the torturous pace that I was teasing both of us with and start sharply plowing into her.
Her jaw is hanging slack and by the way I'm thrusting into her, she's not able to put together coherent words.
KC's hips were naturally bucking up with every thrust, one of my hands snaps down to push down on her stomach to hold her still.
"Oh God Ha-Harry." She finally moans out words as I keep up the rough pace, just wanting to find the right spots and to chase the release that was building in the bottom of my stomach.
There was a thin line of sweat coating both of our bodies now, the hair at the nape of my neck soaked and the front curls falling in front of my face.
"Come on KC, let it go. Ah-," I'm interrupted with a very low groan leaving my mouth, "Now KC, come for me I know you can." She peels her eyes open after having them shut tightly. The newly found eye contact almost makes me tip over the edge, but I'm making her finish first.
I start to fuck her at an even faster pace, making my mind feel even more intoxicated than it was with just the whiskey flowing through my bloodstream. Her high pitched moans are the only thing I can hear other than the slapping of our skin.
I look down to watch my dick go inside of her, looking at her thighs which were bright red.
Her grip on my hand tightens and only then do notice how tightly I'm holding it. I let go and notice fingerprint bruises on the side of her neck as she gasps for air.
I move my hand to grip her other hip to lift them up, causing her legs to unwrap from my waist so she can plant her feet on the couch.
This position is great for more leverage and allows me to pound into her to finish her off.
"God FUCK! I'm coming, Harry fu- fuck." She basically screams out and it takes about four more sharp thrusts until I'm spilling out into the condoms.
I slowly ride out both of our orgasms as her arms lay limp next to her and a tight lipped smile is on her face and her eyes are shut.
She's in a pure blissful state.
Imagine what it would be like with Willow underneath-
For fucks sake Harry, shut the fuck up.
Once I know that we both finished completely, I pull out of her and back onto my couch. I peel off the condom, tying it and throwing it on the ground as I pick up her underwear and hand it to her.
She's still breathing heavy laying on my gray couch, only covered in her bra.
When I handed her the underwear, her eyebrows furrowed together in a state of confusion with her head cocked to the side. "Gonna need to get dressed to walk down to the lobby don't ya think?"
"Are you seriously kicking me out right after we fuck?" Her words were laced with an attitude which I didn't appreciate.
"You didn't think you were spending the night did you?" I get up off the couch and bend down to grab the used condom and my boxers. I pull them up onto my body then walk away into my tiny bathroom to throw the condom in the trash and so I can wash my hands.
When I walk back into the living room I see KC standing in the middle of the room with just her underwear and bra on with her arms crossed over her chest making her boobs look bigger than they really were.
Her hair was crazy and she had a little bit of makeup smudged underneath her eyes, she truly looked fucked.
"You're such a fucking dick. I come here and-"
"Exactly. You came here randomly and I gave you what you wanted. Now give me what I want and leave." She seriously didn't think I was going to let her spend the night, especially when I didn't even ask her to come over in the first place, did she?
My mind still being clouded from the alcohol and the aftershock of sex was making me more irritated because all I wanted was to go upstairs, shower, and lay down before the intoxication wore off while I was still awake.
She just lets out a huff and walks over to the front door, throws on her shirt and jeans quickly and slipping her sandals on.
Her body was practically out the door, but she turns around and flicks me off, then proceeds to slam my door.
A relieved sigh leaves my lips as I turn around to look at the first floor of my apartment- my clothes still scattered on the ground, the leftover whiskey on the coffee table, and the empty ripped foil packet on my couch.
I don't bother to pick any of it up right now and decide to just turn off all the lights and walk up my stairs to head to my bedroom.
I don't even have the will power to take a shower as I collapse on my bed laying there in just my boxers on my stomach with my eyes shut.
Before I can fall asleep, I make sure to turn my alarm on for tomorrow morning so I wake up in time to get ready for the studio session I had.
After I do that, my eyes drift closed and my whiskey furnished dreams overtake my mind.
The dream starring Willow and the image of being tangled up with her, not even in a sexual way, kept replaying in my head. The bright smile plastered on her face as our laughs were just floating through my brain.
Jesus Christ, I couldn't even fuck a girl without having her running through my mind.
We're literally just friends, the hell is she doing to me?
author's note:
lol hey, this is who I picture as KC, but as always you can picture anyone. Legit, you could picture the bitch you hate idc AHAHAH, this is just a face claim.
All love to Olivia O'Brien though, her music slaps. Praise the queen.