Trigger warning: mention of self-harm, suicide, and rape
Gemma Styles
If you told me a month ago that I'd be sitting on the couch in my brother's living room, I would've said you were delusional.
Especially if you also told me that he would remember me.
I was just sitting there, staring at him and unable to look away... his green eyes were the same, and despite the many bruises on his face and his bloody busted lip, he looked just the same as when he was little.
His expression was cryptic, though... he looked tired and angry, but also relieved.
Harry was so tall now, I forgot just how tall he'd gotten. He was strong and he looked so grown up that it was weird... the last time I saw him in that club a few years ago he looked much more carefree than today, but I didn't know what he'd gone through.
He probably went through some rough shit, I mean, he didn't remember me back then but he remembered me now. So that meant he remembered it all, and I knew how badly it hurt. It was hard to stop myself from crying, but I was just so drained of energy that I didn't do anything. I just kept looking at him, trying to organize my thoughts.
When I woke up in that bedroom, I freaked out. I had no idea where I was but I just knew I had another episode. Dissociation was a bitch, I hated the control my trauma had over me. I'd usually lose my memory and feel so dizzy afterwards, but today it was different.
I remembered one thing, which was my brother looking at me and saying my name, while I tried to calm myself down by whistling the one song that reminded me of him... of all we went through together.
I also remembered that I was sitting on the bathroom floor of Ash's house... I remembered gunshots... were we robbed? Was Harry supposed to stop by to see Ash and that's why he found me? I could only remember a few flashes and they went by too fast, my mind just couldn't manage to put them together and discern what was real or not.
Shit, I needed to call Ash.
I was sure Harry brought me here because he remembered who I really was, and I didn't blame him. But Ash was probably worried and I had to check on her. It wouldn't be the first time we were robbed, but this was the first time I had an episode so randomly... I remembered the panic and nothing else. Maybe they already called Ash and told her I was here? Maybe she was staying here too but she had to leave for a little bit? My brain hurt.
The last time I felt this much fear was back in the bunker... the day they took me away from my brother.
I always remembered him, I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that I didn't forget the way he did. Sometimes I wished I could've just forgotten everything... maybe it would hurt less.
But if Harry knew the truth now, then I was sure he was hurting too.
I spent so many years worried about him, and at one point I just wanted to accept that he was dead. I hated myself for it, but it was the only way I could try to move on.
The awful things that happened to me were painful enough, I hated that I had scars to remind me of them. Scars left by others and also some left by myself... let's just say things were never easy. But they felt easier when I met Ash.
I decided I wanted to find my brother about five years ago, I just wanted to know if he was alive or not once and for all... if he was also looking for me or not.
After trying to forget and move on, I realized I couldn't.
I got lucky when I was adopted though, it was actually a very nice family. I was one of the kids that managed to survive and go through the system, but I knew most of us never got out of the rooms after we were used and abused by whoever had paid for us.
Thinking about it made my stomach churn, and I honestly had gone through so many years of therapy and it never fixed anything entirely.
Well, it helped me clarify a few things and I stopped hurting myself. My adoptive parents did everything they could to get me some help after I tried to kill myself... I had an ugly episode and the memories just suffocated me to the point I couldn't bear it.
Remembering just made it so fucking hard, that's why I never told Harry anything... especially when I found him and realized he actually had no idea who I was.
It was very hard to find him though, I had to ask for help and I was lucky my adoptive parents were willing to do this for me, maybe they thought it'd fix me.
They even hired a private investigator, and it took us one year to find out my brother's name was now Harry Styles. I checked countless photos before I finally found him, and the relief of finding out he was alive was the best feeling I had ever felt.
I wished I had looked for him sooner, but I couldn't. I wanted to, but I wasn't in a very good place and I felt so fucking ashamed.
That was also one of the reasons why I never looked for my biological parents again. They definitely wouldn't want a daughter that abandoned her little brother... a daughter who was raped and used as if she was nothing. I was bought like an object and used like one, until they got bored and moved on to the next one, and I actually hated them for leaving me alive.
I wanted to die... I was so young and I really wanted the pain to be over.
Thinking it was my fault hurt me the most. I started to think we got kidnapped and trafficked because of me. That I was raped because I let it happen. I punished myself and the many scars on my thighs were the evidence left behind of terrible years of my life. Of how broken I was, just wishing I could disappear.
It helped me grow stronger, though... I didn't think it was my fault anymore.
I learned to value the good things amongst the bad, and my new parents were one of those things. They were an older couple who never managed to have kids, and they were so happy about adopting me that I felt sorry they had to deal with such a mess.
I was still a mess, some things just couldn't be fixed. But I was happier because of Ash, and I was actually living a good life knowing my brother was alive and safe. I knew he had a very wealthy family back in New York and he seemed fine when I ran into him in the club those years ago.
I tracked him down to L.A., deciding that a club would be the best place to check on him. He didn't even have to see me, I just wanted to see him.
And as ironic as it sounded, I met Ash that night before I spotted my brother. I was trying to blend in and getting some drinks, and she approached me with that sly smile of hers I loved so much.
It felt nice to have someone actually wanting to talk to me, I had the worst trust issues. I always felt unworthy of attention or love, I always assumed people would use me and leave. I couldn't help it.
But talking to Ash that night actually made me feel alive. I laughed, and I hadn't laughed in a while.
And the moment she told me she wanted to introduce me to a few friends, the last face I expected to see was my brother's. Turns out Ash was his friend... and stopping myself from just crying and hugging him was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
Because I realized he didn't recognize me... he didn't remember me. He presented himself as Harry Styles, he was surrounded by girls and very drunk. Zayn was also with him back then, and I was actually happy they were still friends. They seemed to be very close and the only thing I wanted was for Harry to be happy.
Seeing him drinking and having fun just made it impossible for me to bring myself to tell him who I was. I panicked and I remembered the pain I went through... the countless times I just wanted to end it all.
My brother was alive and healthy, he had gotten adopted by a nice family with money, he had friends... I would never forgive myself for ruining that, because I wouldn't want anyone to ruin it for me if I was in his place.
So I didn't say anything, knowing he was okay was enough. And the plan was to head back home, but Ash easily made her way under my skin and into my heart.
I fell in love and I decided to move to L.A., take the painting course I always wanted to take because Ash told me life was too short to think we couldn't learn something new.
I could never draw or paint like her though, her talent was unmatched. She put so much emotion into everything she did... it was beautiful to watch.
Tattooing was her dream job and her happy place, and I knew it was one of the things that reminded her of her grandfather.
She lost him and that affected her so much, she was always so worried...she'd get home late at night drunk a few times, and then she'd just cry. It broke my heart seeing her like that, but Ash was the strongest person I'd ever met. She made me feel strong too... she took a little of my pain away, and I realized that's what love felt like.
And now seeing that my brother was in love was also something that made me very happy. I'd met Cleo during lunch last week, and despite the way she and Harry were apparently in a bad mood back then, I could just feel how much they loved each other.
I could see it right now too, because he had reached out his hand to intertwine her fingers with hers and she never took her eyes off him.
Cleo had an ugly wound on her thigh though, it was exposed because she was only wearing an oversized t-shirt that was probably Harry's. I wondered why they were all so injured, Zayn also had a bruised face.
I was so confused and scared when I woke up, I was stupid to get a knife from the kitchen before I dared to look around this huge apartment. And that's when I remembered a few flashes of last night...
That's when I remembered seeing Harry and hearing him calling my name.
And now here we were... staring at each other for the last minutes as if we still couldn't believe this was real.
I planned on telling him the truth and explaining everything, especially now that he remembered me. I wanted to know how he felt about the rest, how he was holding up, and also what triggered him to remember the truth about our past.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask him... about his adoptive parents, what he did for a living, how he met Cleo, the things he liked to do now.
I knew it was hard to reconnect and I was scared he'd hate me for always knowing who he was. But I didn't regret not being the one who told him the truth, if it was up to me he'd never have remembered anything.
He didn't deserve the pain. He was so young... shit, we didn't deserve it. No children do.
This hurt too much.
"I- I..." Harry startled me when he stuttered, and Cleo scooted closer to him on the couch, squeezing his hand.
Zayn was standing behind the couch, with his hands resting on the back, behind Harry's shoulder. I noticed his narrowed eyes were focused on me, they were all so intimidating. It was hard to explain how, but they just seemed scary, maybe the overconfidence or the way they were physically hurt but yet they didn't seem to care.
There was so much going on, I was looking at my brother and I also had to call Ash and ask where she was.
I never thought this day would come, if I'm being honest. I'd accepted the fact my brother and I would live our lives separately, and I could live with that knowing he was okay.
But now I wasn't sure where to begin or what to say. And I also had a huge headache because of my episode, there were a lot of gaps in my memory and I was still confused. "You know me," Harry spoke up again, furrowing his eyebrows.
A few damp curls fell over his eyes and Cleo pushed them back, her wide blue eyes didn't look at me yet and she seemed so protective of him.
It reminded me of the way Ash acted around me sometimes, she'd be a bit overprotective most of the time and she didn't tell me a few things, but I never judged because she had no idea about my past. I also didn't tell her a lot, and I wouldn't be a hypocrite.
I trusted her with my life and we loved each other, that was more than enough for me. It was hard to finally learn that our pasts didn't define us.
"Yes, I know you," I said, clearing my throat. "And you know me, don't you? You said my name yesterday."
"Gemma." He whispered, clenching his jaw. "You're my sister."
"Yes." I nodded, and this time Cleo looked at me.
Her gaze was so intense that I had to look away, lowering my eyes to the huge tattoo on the side of her hip peeking through her shirt. Harry also had so many tattoos, even more than a few years ago.
I had none, Ash always laughed because I was dating a famous tattoo artist and yet I didn't take the opportunity of getting one.
I didn't know why, I just wasn't used to having permanent things.
But I knew the letters tattooed on my brother's neck had to be Cleo's initials, Ash once mentioned her name was Cleo Horan and the C.H. wasn't a coincidence. It was crazy to me that he got it tattooed, but it also made me happy to see him so in love.
"I'm sorry, but you remember him and you knew he was your brother all along?" Cleo suddenly asked me and I looked into her eyes again. "Why did you fucking lie?"
Her tone scared me a bit and I glanced at Harry. He looked so confused and surprised at the same time, I hated not knowing where to start.
"I'm going to explain everything," I spoke up. "I just need to call Ash and let her know I'm okay. Or did you tell her I was here?"
Their eyes suddenly widened and they just stared at me with the same expression I couldn't quite decipher.
"Holly- Gemma... sorry, I don't know which you prefer," Zayn said, grimacing.
"Gemma." I let out a deep breath of relief, it'd been so long since someone used my real name.
"Okay, well... you don't seem to remember what happened last night and I don't know how to explain." Zayn cleared his throat, glancing sideways at Cleo. "We brought you here to keep you safe too."
"Safe? Why? I remember gunshots, were we robbed? Is that why you're hurt?" I asked. "I'm very confused, my brain is a mess. Can someone just tell me what happened?"
Harry was just staring at me and I didn't know if their silence was something good or not.
"You weren't robbed, Ash's house was attacked," Cleo spoke up, catching my attention. "You probably hid in the bathroom because of that... but Ash didn't make it, I'm sorry."
What? Attacked?
"This isn't funny, can I please call her?" I asked, not knowing why I started crying all of a sudden. The tears just kept streaming and I couldn't stop. "I need a phone. I need to call her."
"Gemma, I'm so sorry." Zayn sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But Ash passed away. She won't pick up the phone. I'm sorry."
"What? You're lying." I shook my head. "Who would attack her? This makes zero sense! I need a phone."
I couldn't stop crying, I was sobbing already and this was suffocating me. But the last thing I expected was for Harry to slide his phone over the center table so I could reach it.
His eyes were watering but he didn't say a word, he pulled Cleo closer while I quickly dialed Ash's number with my trembling fingers, and I brought the phone up to my ear.
It kept ringing and ringing... until it went to voicemail.
"Hi, this is Ash. Don't leave a message, or if you do I'll do my best to ignore it. Have a nice day!"