"So boys, we need some names. Preferably the names on your birth certificate not nicknames." He bats his eyes between the three of us, his badge shines from the single light on the ceiling above us.
Three cups of water stand on the table, a mirror on the wall is big, obviously double sided, what I don't understand is why we're in this room right now. Why are we in an investigation room right now.
"I don't understand what's so big of a deal, we're all stone cold sober and we need to-" Zayn whispers, not able to muster a full voice from the tears in the edges of his eyes.
"Shut up Zayn, Niall Horan is my name officer, and this is Zayn Malik." He places a hand on his shoulder, his brother bats it away, don't think he really likes attention.
"Yes, Zayn Malik." He says, now moving his eyes down to his legs.
I don't know whether it was the heat of the moment or the shock of what happened yesterday but I feel myself saying the words "Harry Styles."
He nods his head, writing on the note pad.
The officer looks down at me, I don't want to meet his eyes, I can't do this. I can't believe I did this, let them find out my name like this, they deserve better. I deserve better, I look up to face him, "Officer can you give us a minute." This isn't gonna fucking work.
"No I can't-"
"Please-" I stand up, leaning over to him, he flinches at my sudden reaction, "I've seen you eyeing me up all day, I'll give you a blowy or a handy just please let me speak to them. Alone. Two minutes max." He smirks at me, I picked up his signals fast, I have been in this business for a really long time, what did I expect.
"1 minute, and I have to stand right outside," He leans in to me, whispering in my ear, "I'll take you to the back room for the blow job." He smirks once again, checking me out as he walks away.
As soon as the door shuts I sweep myself back into the chair, the boys eyes follow me, something that you used to enjoy doing.
I remember when you first found out my name you were obsessed, saying it over and over after finding out how aroused I am to the sound of it. How narcissistic can a person get, getting turned on to there own name. You loved it though, you loved that I didn't hate myself. You cherished all of my self confidence, because you didn't have any.
"Styles-"
"No, boys you need to shut up for a fucking minute. Okay. I'm not who you really think I am, Harry Styles. My real name is Harry Styles and I didn't want it to come out like this but hey ho, I didn't want Louis to die either but life is what it is. My mum has bipolar disorder and I get the money to support my family by....Stripping for a living and I know it's a lot to take in but it's better me telling you like this then you finding out on your own account."
There stare back at me in disbelief, not knowing what to say or how to take this new information in. I know that they would never judge anyone for being a prostitute so they will never judge me for being a stripper, but then again I am a fucking stripper.
The officer opens the door, with three plastic cups in his hands, he smiles at me as he says, "You piss into these, then we check if you're-"
"Pregnant?" Niall jokes, probably the first joke since you.
"No, high or drunk. Zayn, you're up first."
Zayn stands up, and walking to the door. Maybe Zayn will finally catch the frog that's in his tongue and speak to this fucking cop- talking about how I'm probably 'riddled with STD's' because of my occupation. Making him not want my dirty mouth around his cock.
He comes back in after a little while, with no cup anymore, he calls for Niall bringing him out of the room. The silence absolutely unbearable I miss Niall for his small talk when he's gone but as soon as he's back my stomach starts to turn and my shoulders rise.
I do not want to do this for this closeted police man, but I have to, I basically promised him.
I stand up, my legs on the outside strong and powerful but my gut tells a different story, he tries to make small talk on the way to the bathroom but I just follow behind silently.
He speaks about his affair with another officer, cheating on his wife while she was looking after his new born. She wanted a divorce so she got one, now she has full custody of his daughter 'Olivia' I felt like he was going to start crying as I started to piss into the small cup.
~~
As I wrap my mouth around it all I can help to do is think of you, you're soft skin that I would stroke on your back as you smoked a cigarette naked on the edge of the bed after every time we fucked. Your soft back, so kissable and likable. You were so lovable Louis, I fucking loved you.
You would always seek my pleasure over yours even when I was sucking your cock to make you feel good you made me even more turned on but stroking my hair, pushing it out of my face and massaging my scalp with your delicate fingers that I know to well.
Now with this divorced ugly cop, he just moaned into his hand as I went down on him with my lips in the smallest stock cupboard I've ever been in. Not caring about me or my fucking story, he loves to think about himself I could honestly just bite it of as It's in my mouth.
~~
"Yeah, the piss is clean." He places it on the wooden table in front of me and the boys. I look up to him, he's already looking at me.
"Yeah wanna check if our eyes are fucking white too?" I say back, annoyed that we're wasting our day in a police questioning room. I need to just get home, "Sorry the last few days-"
"Don't worry about it, you're free to leave as soon as-" He looks at the clipboard he holds in his hand, "Trisha- Trisha Malik is here, we just want you boys to be safe." In reality, I know he doesn't care. In fact, he couldn't care less.
"Can I call her, see when she'll be here?" Niall asks, whatever jolly-ness that was in his voice is now gone. Long gone actually, he most likely will never be that jolly again, I know I won't be. The officer nods his head, sympathising with us a little. He seems to be in his twenties, no older than 30.
I remember a time where you and I would sit in a park, watching people walk past, estimating there age. Then playing a simple game of rock, paper scissors, loser having to go up to them to ask there real age.
One time you got smacked round the face after the woman responded, "How old do you think I am?" In response you said, 78. Her face turned a ghostly pale before slapping you across the cheek. She shouted, I'm only 60! While hurriedly walking away. I remember the look on your face, the violated look. The last thing you thought would happen, clearly. I remember laughing at you and you tapping my thigh. 'It's not funny!' You would say, breaking into a giggle yourself.
What I would give to lie in a grass field, you attached to my hip as always, your signature rose shampoo, you would always complain about drifting into my nose. A girl pointed it out once, 'You guys smell the same.' She said, your face redder than a rose, I'm telling you. You were so embarrassed you had to leave the room.
All I could do was laugh back then, now, it feels like I feel nothing.
"Styles mate..." Niall shakes my cold body, my face feels wet. I wipe away the moisture from my eyes, "Me' mum's outside. She's here to get us." Niall says, I look at him, his eyes have dark bags hanging beneath them. I nod my head, bringing myself to my feet. Zayn stands still, not really there. Who is though?
I shake the officers hand before following Zayn to the door, clearly knowing the way. I feel Niall's arms slip over my shoulder, for support mostly. He can't seem to comfort his brother, he pushes him away. So I'm the only one left to comfort.
As we leave the station, I see Trisha leaning on the car. Memories of the night we spent in her house flood back, she brings me pain to see. Reminding me of you.
Always you.
Zayn practically jogs to his mum, she spreads her arms for him, pulling him into a hug. I hear her trying to comfort him, as you would comfort me in my darkest hours. Niall also runs to his mum, she grabs him aswell. Holding him just as tight, at the same time.
It's a picture perfect moment, a mother comforting her sons as they cry over there dead friend, still not quite processed his passing.
Zayn slowly pulls away, opening the car door. The back one this time, Niall does aswell. Hoping into the car. My legs seem to be rooted into the ground not able to walk those few steps to the car.
"Are you gonna come to me or do I have to come to you?" She says, across the parking lot. The boys in the car, tired out of there fucking minds.
I pick up my right leg, a new found balance in her words are comforting. I pace over to her at a speed of not even a mile and hour. She pulls me into a bear hug, I want to cry. I want to cry over the loss of you but I can't seem to find the tears. There's none left. My body dehydrated of any and all tears as I've been continuously been crying over you for the past day.
"My boys have it easy compared to what you're going through, Styles. Loosing a loved one is a pain, unmatched. I could tell you boys really fucking loved each other, now come get into the front seat." She says, letting go of me, I wish I could hold onto someone for just a second longer.
I walk round to the side of the car that Niall sits on, he sits in the back seat, I couldn't possibly sit in the front, it's not even my car.
"I can't possibly-"
"Just get in the car mate." Niall says, from the back. His brothers head rested on his shoulder, eyes asleep. For the first time looking peaceful, peaceful in himself. I just know the second he wakes up he will go back into the rapidly declining mood.
Trisha nods reassuringly at me, before I step into the shotgun. The blowers flush over me of warm air, ever since you left there's been this permanent cold draft on me, I like it in a way. I reach out, flipping the switch of, the cold air suddenly takes over again.
~~