tw: panic attack, violent description, mentions of emotional abuse
July 6th, 2022
Fuck Harry Styles.
Fuck every part of him.
Who does he think he is? No one talks to me like that. After what I went through with Alex I refuse to allow anyone to disrespect me and get away with it.
Which is why I've decided that today I'm marching my ass over to Voodoo to demand answers.
I thought we were having a good time. I found myself really liking him, despite the small amount of information I know about him. Even with the small amount of information he shared about himself, I found myself completely entranced by him.
He's so intelligent it's intimidating. I'd babble on about something unimportant and he'd respond in such a poetic way it made me want to never speak again.
I wanted to listen to him laugh for forever. I did everything I could last night to bring out his cackle, showing his adorable bunny teeth and dimples.
There were so many times I would forget what I was saying because when Harry listens, he really listens. The way he makes eye contact and completely stops anything he's doing when I'm speaking was something else. That may sound like the bare minimum, but I've just never had a person make me feel so heard.
The amount of times I had to hold myself back from grabbing his hand or brushing his curls out of his face drove me to near insanity. I wanted him to go at his own pace with the physical contact and I was willing to be patient.
I just wanted to crack his hard exterior.
Now I just want to crack his head like an egg.
Fuck. Harry. Styles.
How dare he bring up my mother and the abuse I went through. I know I was asking questions about his home life, something he seemed to steer away from, but the majority of the night was spent with me talking and him just listening. I don't know if it was nerves or what, but how can you expect to ask someone on a date and not talk about yourself.
After I got home last night after a very scary drive home since I was crying so hard I could barely see and on top of that I had smoked my body weight in weed, I called Gianna right away. She told me I need to just let him go. Give him his space and take my own, and maybe in the future we can revisit but right now we need to let the emotions run their course.
But that's just not my style.
I need to know what the point of last night was. Why did he go through all that effort for me if he wasn't going to follow through with anything. Why did he think it was okay to say what he said.
Part of me was hoping he would chase after me, like in some cheesy romantic comedy. But that could never be my life.
I'm aware that I'm a train wreck of a person. Everywhere I go my past follows me and dares to take anyone I get close to down with them. I don't deserve that kind of movie love and I've accepted that a long time ago. But I do deserve basic respect and decency.
So this afternoon I made sure that even if I didn't feel like it, I'm looking bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to go rounds with that curly headed fuck if I have to.
I triple checked that I didn't forget my blue contacts before stomping out of my apartment and down the steps to the street to give him a piece of my mind and demand some sort of closure. I'm aware that closure isn't always possible or valid but I really don't give a shit.
I'm so upset it's like I'm blinded by my anger and broken heart over this stupid boy I barely know. Before I even make it to the first street light my phone is buzzing in the pocket of my jeans and I roll my eyes at the contact photo for Gianna taking up my screen.
"Heeeeeeeey G, how's it going?" I keep my voice level with a hint of cheeriness to it.
"Hi baby!" she coos into the phone. "I know you had a rough night last night so I'm on my way to your apartment! Are you ready for day drinking and a movie marathon? I'm bringing over John Tucker Must Die and Legally Blonde!"
Why does Gianna have to be such a fucking good friend?
"That's so sweet of you, I seriously don't know what I would do without you, but I have a... thing. Can I call you after?" Great. A thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Oh? A thing?" she says in a knowing tone.
"Yeah! You know, I told you I had that... appointment. At the dentist. Yeah."
The crosswalk gives me the go ahead and I make my way across while Gianna hums into the speaker.
"Hm. Which dentist office? Maybe I can meet you after and we can get lunch after?" she speaks in a clueless tone, but I know that she knows exactly what's going on.
"Oh it's— uh— it's called—"
"Cut the shit Cass. You're on your way to see Harry right now, I'm not stupid. Did you forget you shared your location with me in case something went wrong last night?" she scoffs.
God dammit she's right. I sent her my location for my safety last night and forgot to turn it off.
"Fuck, I'm sorry G I really am. But I just can't sit there and wonder what went wrong! And last night, I thought of all these things I should have said instead of crying like a little bitch in front of him! I need that!" I whine, crossing the last street before turning onto the strip where Voodoo is at.
"Cassie it's not worth it. I'm telling you, you're just going to end up more hurt. But, you're an adult. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'll be here to pick up the pieces when it inevitably goes south."
"Thanks for the boost of confidence," I roll my eyes.
"If you kill him, I know where we can bury him where no one will ever find him," she jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
And that's my cue to shut this conversation down immediately.
"I gotta go. Really, I appreciate you, but I've got this. I'll call you after, okay?" We say our goodbyes and put my phone back in my pocket, looking up at the familiar storefront. I stare the strange circus lettering for far too long, even a few customers going inside in the time I stand out there.
I can do this. Just go in there and exude bad bitch energy. Say your piece, demand answers, and leave.
Simple.
Deep breath.
I take one last look in the reflection of the window before I open the front door, hearing the familiar bells and smelling the awful incense in the air. I resist the urge to sneeze, sniffling a few times as I make my way to the counter.
I first spot Zayn at the register, which is odd because if I remember correctly he usually only works in the basement. At least with Zayn it's okay if I look a little bit crazy, I definitely wouldn't make a fool of myself in front of their boss. Zayn on the other hand?
"Oh hey Cass what's up? Need some materials for your jewel—" Zayn starts but I cut him off.
"Where is Harry?"
"Oh, now's not a good time..." he trails off, avoiding my eyes.
"Look Zayn, I don't really give a fuck. Now is as good of a time as any, now where is Harry?" I ask again through my teeth, my eyes searching around the store.
"I really think you should—"
I spot Harry coming from downstairs and he looks rough to say the least. I can see his bloodshot eyes from the across the store, his hair is disheveled like he'd been frequently running his hands through it, and there is a noticeable shake to his hands as he shuts the basement door behind him.
What the fuck?
"There he is!" I quickly walk away from Zayn, who's noticeably cringing behind me. "Harry! We need to talk!"
Harry's eyes meet mine and go wide in panic for a moment, before settling into an expression of annoyance. He rolls his eyes dramatically and visibly sighs, turning away from me to stomp
towards the door into the room he normally works on his taxidermy at.
"Don't ignore me! Harry!" I whisper yell, following him towards the door. He storms through the swinging door and it flies back in my face before settling closed and without hesitation I follow him through, not caring that I'm not allowed to be back here.
"Cassie you can't go back there!" Zayn's voice fades in the background but I ignore him. My ears are ringing and I attempt to mask any sign of nervousness as I approach Harry, who hasn't noticed I've followed him yet. He stands with his back facing me, digging for something inside what looks like a freezer.
I've never been back here before, but I don't take a moment to look at anything as I make my way around the large workbench and narrowly miss the warehouse like shelves before Harry hears my footsteps and turns around to glare at me.
If looks could kill I'd be dead right now.
"What the fuck are you doing?" his voice echos off the walls and resist the urge to shrink back at his tone.
"I need answers, Harry! That's what I'm doing!" I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Yeah well I don't have any. Leave me alone Cassie," he practically growls at me, turning around to continue doing what he was doing.
"No, Harry! You don't get to do that! What happened last night? I just don't understand and I want to understand!" I yell, moving to stand next to him to catch his eyes.
He continues to avoid me, gathering various materials around him as he speaks. "I thought I made myself clear. We will not work. We will never work. It was my fault for thinking there was something between us, but there is nothing."
"That's not true and you know it! I know you felt something!" I feel tears brim at my waterline but I hold them back. I take a pause and when he doesn't say anything, I take a deep breath and pray to any god that will listen to me to not let my voice shake. "You made me feel heard. I've never felt that way with anyone before. I felt weightless with you... I'm sorry I pushed you too far. I just want to know you!"
Harry rolls his eyes at me again and it's like a punch to the gut to see him dismiss me so quickly.
"Obviously I wasn't clear enough," he speaks through his teeth, his eyes dark with anger. "You're the same annoying little girl that walked in at the wrong place and got tangled up in our mess. I felt bad for you. I feel nothing for you. Now leave. Fuck!"
"You don't mean that! I deserve respect at the very least! You fucked me and then showed up at my door in the middle of the night, you cared for me after that dinner went badly, you went through so much effort last night for me, don't tell me that was for no reason!" I continue to fight but I know it's useless. He's just going to continue to shut me down and make me feel like I'm the smallest person in the world.
Gianna was right. This was a bad idea.
"Don't let it get to your head." He turns away from me and just as I'm about to get the last word in and storm out, the entrance door swings open to reveal Zayn with a slightly panicked look in his eyes.
"Sorry to interrupt but the boss is on his way up. You need to get out of here Cassie," he says lowly, pointing with his thumb behind him.
"I was just leaving," I respond and without another look at Harry, I'm shoving past Zayn back into the store and I make a beeline for the exit. Tears are now flowing freely down my cheeks and I will not allow Zayn or anyone in this store to see me like this.
Zayn calls after me but I ignore him as the door jingles closed behind me. I'm so embarrassed. That did not go how I planned it in my head. I thought I would leave feeling empowered and with some sort of closure, but instead I'm leaving more confused and broken hearted than before.
I know he can't mean what he said. I know there was something between us. I felt it, I saw it when he looked at me. Why would he trust me with the secret of his garden if he just felt bad for me? There is more to this than what he's telling me, but there's no way in hell I'm ever speaking to him again.
I debate on calling Gianna, knowing she's probably going to look at my location at some point, but I don't care right now. I'm headed straight for the bar at 3pm on a Wednesday to be alone and drink my sorrows away.
As I walk down the busy street, I can't help but feel like something is off. Sometimes I get a little creeped out walking alone in the city, but I suddenly get the feeling I'm being followed. I stop and look around at my surroundings, but nothing stands out to me. There was a small part of me hoping it was Harry chasing after me to apologize, but all I can see are random pedestrians and cars breezing past me, so I shake off the feeling and chalk it up to lack of sleep and high emotions making me feel weird.
I wipe the tears from my face and get to my building, deciding to run upstairs and clean myself up a bit in my own bathroom before I plant myself on a stool until last call. Just to be safe, I place my keys between my fingers in case I need to punch someone out and get away quickly if someone really is following me. Once I get my door unlocked, I lock it right back up behind me in my paranoid state and cautiously walk through my tiny apartment, thankful there isn't really anywhere someone could hide.
I head straight for the bathroom and dip my face down toward the sink to splash some cold water on me. My crying has subsided, but I still have that stinging feeling in the back of my throat like I could still burst into tears at any moment.
I'm so pathetic. Who am I?
I blindly reach out for my face wash on the bathroom sink hoping the cooling effect will help take some of the redness away and scrub my face until the soap starts to feel dry against my skin. I pick up the wash cloth next to me to pat dry my face down and when I open my eyes, the sight in the mirror makes me let out a blood curdling scream.
Alex.
Am I losing my mind? He's not behind me, there's no way. I know for a fact that he's dead. But I can't take my eyes off the mirror where Alex's horrific bruises and cuts all over his face. Fresh blood leaks out of the wounds and his lifeless eyes are staring directly into mine as my heart pounds in my ears and my entire body shakes with fear.
I spin around quickly to face him, but as soon as I do, he's gone. I turn back to look in the mirror but I don't see his face anymore. I drop my washcloth on the floor and fling the bathroom door open, looking wildly at my surroundings with my chest heaving, only to find nothing there.
"What the fuck..." I say out loud to myself.
But then I hear him.
"No one will ever love you."
He's in my head.
"I am the only one stupid enough to put up with your shit."
My eyes flick around wildly as I stand in the middle of my apartment.
Have I finally broken? Have the years of stress and trauma finally caught up to me?
"You're fucking crazy."
"There's something wrong with you."
I've heard these words before.
This is what I lived with for the last two years of our relationship.
"Shut up! Shut up! You're not real!" I scream into the air, dropping down on the floor to cover my ears.
I don't know how long I stay there on the ground, but long enough that when I bring my head back up, everything feels still.
Too still.
I jump up from the ground and grab my keys and my bag as fast as I can and run out of my apartment. I can't be there any longer.
What the fuck just happened?
Alex was right. I'm crazy. I'm out of my fucking mind.
I race down the steps towards the bar and thankfully it's mostly empty, just a few stray customers seated in the booths and tables, and one other person at the stools up at the bar. I probably look rough right now, but I can't find it in me to care as I order a shot of tequila.
And a second.
And a third.
And a fourth.
And a margarita to wash them down with.
And a fifth.
I don't know how much time has passed by the time I'm half giggling, half crying to the bartender while he looks incredibly bored staring at his nails while I babble on. I've lost track of how many shots I've ordered but I know for a fact I'm now on my second margarita.
"Oh! And guess what! The guy I like totally rejected me! But it's okay, because I'm a hot piece of ass who doesn't a need a man!" I slur my words, holding up my half empty margarita glass as I speak.
"So that's what this is about?" the bartender raises his eyebrow at me. "A boy? What are you, sixteen?"
"Nooooo! This is because my life... drum roll please... sucks!" I giggle hysterically into my cup. What was I laughing about...?
"Kid, usually your life sucks because it's the consequences of your own actions. Just some food for thought," he replies as he picks at his cuticles.
"But I'm a good person!" I slam my glass down on the table, making his eyes go wide. "I have good intentions! I'm nice to people. I hold doors open. I recycle. That has to count for something right?!"
"Yeah well, sometimes that's not enough." He takes my glass off the counter and sets it in the sink behind him. "I'm cutting you off. You got a ride home?"
"But I want another!" I whine, reaching out with grabby hands towards him but he swats me away.
"Nope. Not happening. I can call someone for you if you want," he shrugs casually.
At this point I don't know up from down, but I fish my phone out of my jeans and lay it flat on the counter. The counter spins below me as I try to get my face ID to unlock my phone and by some miracle it does. Thank god Gianna was my last call because this makes calling her so much easier.
I lazily hold the phone to my ear. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," I say out loud.
"Hello? Cassie?"
"Oh hello!"
"Are you drunk?" she asks clearly surprised. "I take it that it didn't go well with Harry?"
"Can you come to Eddie's? Pretty please?" I draw out the please and pretend I didn't hear her ask about Harry, because that is a can of worms she does not want to open over the phone.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Stay where you are and don't drink anymore!" she demands and her tone makes me sit up a little straighter even though she can't see me. And then that thought makes me breakout into a fit of giggles.
"Aye aye, captain!"
True to her word, it feels like no time has past at all when I feel an arm go around my shoulders which makes me flinch, but once I see the familiar manicured nails and dainty gold bracelet in my vision I relax. I lift my head up from the table that I don't remember laying down and mumble to Gianna, trying to tell her to take me upstairs.
"I know, I know where you live, come on. Don't make me call Zayn to come carry you," she threatens and this makes me a little more alert.
"No. Do not. Call. Zayn. Harry can't know about this," I beg. I already looked pathetic in front of him today as it is, I don't need this too.
"I won't, but you have to walk." She talks to me like I'm a fragile a child and honestly at this moment I kind of feel like one.
We manage to make it up the outside steps and into the hallway, me holding onto Gianna for dear life while she tries to drag me to my door. She pats down my pants for my keys and pulls them out unlocking the door. It's then I remember my paranoia from earlier.
"Wait! G, I swear this isn't drunk me talking," I stop her by pulling on her arm, but the slur of speech doesn't exactly help my case. "I felt like someone was following me on my way home from Voodoo's today. We gotta be careful."
"Okay Cassie, I'll do a sweep when we get inside and make sure everything is locked," she tells me in a soft tone with sympathetic eyes.
I relax a bit and allow Gianna to lay me down in my bed while she walks through the apartment with her pepper spray in her hands, but comes back with a straight face and a glass of water in her hand and lays on the bed next to me.
"No psycho killers waiting for us here," she strokes my hair. She pulls my phone out of my pocket to shut the music off coming from my speaker and I try to focus on the soft blanket and her soothing touch to stop the spinning. "I put some water on your nightstand when you're ready."
"Are you mad at me?" I mumble with my eyes closed.
"No baby, I'm not," she coos into my hair. "We'll talk about Harry tomorrow if you're up for it, okay? Can I stay the night with you?"
"You're such a good friend," I sigh. It takes a few minutes for my brain to catch up, but I realize she mentioned Harry and my emotional drunk side decides to rear it's ugly head, making me tear up immediately. I bury my face into Gianna's lap as I cry. "Oh G, it was so bad."
"It's okay, let it out," she rubs my back soothingly. "Just please for the love of god do not throw up on me unless you want me to throw up on you."
And that's how the rest of the night was spent. Me, ugly crying all over Gianna, while she comforted me until I finally passed out, wishing I was anyone else but me.
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new chapter soon!!
edited to add the tw's!!