I actually had a dream about this yesterday so I decided to make it a fic. So enjoy ig 😭😭 also Tw for drugs and alcohol and kids, please don't do drugs.
Word count: ~3000 words.
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Lately, the pressure on the boys has been relentless. Management's been riding them hard, scheduling back-to-back events with hardly a moment to breathe. Their days are a blur of interviews, photo shoots, and live performances.
It's the life of an artist, sure, but everyone has their limits, and they feel like they're inching closer to ours every day.
Harry's POV
The weight of exhaustion is a constant companion these days, and it's not just me feeling it—we all are. But I'm only 16, and there's this nagging thought that maybe this isn't how life should be, even for someone in the spotlight.
The others seem to handle it with such strength, and I can't help but wonder why it's so hard for me to do the same. The stress is unrelenting; it's like I'm losing grip on my own life. Our schedules are so packed that finding time to eat feels like a luxury, and our 'breaks' are laughably brief.
It's not just physical tiredness; it's mental, too. I'm hanging on by a thread, trying to manage, but I can feel myself nearing the end of my tether.
On the tour bus, en route to yet another destination, we're granted a precious half-hour of downtime. I sink into the couch, phone in hand, scrolling on Facebook and that's when I see it—a notification about a party for teens, just down the street. The idea of going sparks a bit of excitement in me. It's happening today, and even though I'm late to the game, I'm hopeful they'll let me join the fun. It's a small thing, but right now, it feels like a lifeline.
Third person POV
The hum of the tour bus was a gentle backdrop to the quiet activity within. Harry, lost in thought, scrolled aimlessly through Facebook.
Louis, noticing Harry's distant gaze, flopped down beside him. "Hey Haz, what's happening?" he asked, trying to peer over at the screen. "Oh, just scrolling on Facebook," Harry muttered, his voice betraying a hint of something more.
They sat in a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with familiarity. The bus rolled to a stop, and they were herded off by their team, moving through the motions of another packed day.
Interviews came and went in a blur, their laughter during photo shoots not quite reaching their eyes. They were all running on empty, the constant go-go-go of their schedule leaving them more robot than human. Niall's jokes provided brief relief, but even those were tinged with the weariness they all felt. The journey home was a silent affair, each lost in their own world of fatigue.
When they finally got back, the house was super quiet, except for the sound of their stomachs telling them it was time to eat.
"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," Niall announced, breaking the silence. Liam nodded in agreement, "I could go for a feast right now." A soft chorus of laughter followed, the sound a balm to their tired souls.
They each picked at their food, the day's exhaustion making even eating feel like a chore. "I can't remember the last time I was this tired," Zayn confessed as they wrapped up their meager meal. Heads bobbed in agreement, the sentiment shared by all.
After eating, they all went to their rooms to crash. But Harry wasn't planning on sleeping just yet. The idea of normalcy, of a night out like any regular teenager, was too tempting. He waited until the house was quiet, the soft sounds of his friends' slumber filling the air, before slipping out into the night, drawn to the promise of escape, if only for a few hours.
Harry's POV
The night was still young, and so was I. In the solitude of my room, I slipped into my favorite shirt- the one that made me feel like I could take over the world. Technically I wasn't really sneaking out; after all, the guys aren't my parents. But a small voice in my head whispered that maybe I should've mentioned something. Well too late now.
The music was a distant call as I walked down the street, the rhythm growing stronger with each step. The party was in an abandoned mall, a place that once buzzed with life and now echoed with the sound of celebration.
I followed the arrows to a staircase awash in blue light, leading to a room where the music wasn't just heard- it was felt.
Stepping inside, the energy hit me like a wave. The room was alive, pulsing with beats and bodies moving in sync. I'd never been to a party like this before, and it was exhilarating.
The drink bar was my first stop, and as I pondered over a menu of unfamiliar concoctions, a voice cut through the noise.
"Hey there, handsome. Sparkling water, huh? Nothing fun?" A woman's words were playful, a challenge wrapped in a smirk.
I hesitated, "I've got work tomorrow," but her laughter was infectious.
"I'm Elisha! C'mon, just one drink. I'll pay," she offered, and eventually I found myself agreeing.
The drink she chose for me was a mystery, a mix of colors and a promise of a good time. Her friends; a lively bunch; joined us, and I sipped the drink, letting the taste and the company wash over me.
We talked, we laughed, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. When they suggested stepping outside for a breather, I was all in. The cool air was a sharp contrast to the heat of the crowd. But then, the offer changed-drugs.
My refusal was firm, "Uhm, no no, l'm not really into that stuff." But they were persistent, and under the weight of their encouragement, I reluctantly accepted just one.
Back inside, the pill seemed harmless at first. I was still me, just a bit more relaxed, a bit more daring. The music enveloped me, and I found myself moving to the beat, the center of my own universe. They handed me a few extras, "for later," they said. I pocketed them without a second thought.
Time blurred. The drinks flowed, and the pills-they were just another part of the night. I took them without counting, without realizing. The party soared to new heights, and so did I. But what goes up must come down.
Suddenly, the room spun. The laughter turned to a buzz in my ears, and the lights blurred into streaks. I felt sick, the fun replaced by a gnawing feeling in my gut. I needed to get out, to escape the noise, the crowd, the mistake I had made. My feet moved of their own accord, stumbling towards what I hoped was the exit. The faces around me morphed into a sea of colors, indistinct and swirling. I could hear my heart pounding over the music, a desperate rhythm urging me on.
"Harry, where are you going?" Elisha's voice reached me through the haze, but I couldn't find her in the blur. "Just need some air," I managed to say, though I wasn't sure she heard me. I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my spinning head and calm the storm in my stomach.
The night was silent except for the distant thump of the bass, a reminder of the world I had just left behind. I closed my eyes, hoping to center myself, to find a point of stillness in the tumult.
Harry's night had taken a turn for the worse. After mixing too much alcohol with the drugs he'd been pressured into taking, his stomach churned uncomfortably, and his head felt like it was spinning on a merry-go-round that wouldn't stop. The loud music and flashing lights of the party, which once seemed so exciting, now felt like an assault on his senses.
He stumbled through the crowd, his vision blurry and his steps uncertain. He needed to get out, to find some fresh air and quiet. Fumbling with his phone, he dialed Louis's number, his fingers feeling too big for the tiny buttons.
"Louuuuuhhhh," he slurred into the phone, the word dragging out longer than he intended.
The phone crackled, and then Louis's voice came through, filled with worry. "Hey love, what's wrong? Why are you calling?" Louis asked, his voice cutting through the noise of the party in the background.
Harry opened his mouth to explain, to tell Louis everything, but the words got tangled up on his tongue. "I'm-...they-....sick...mgonna...help," he managed to get out before his grip on the phone loosened, and it clattered to the floor with a thud.
"Harry?" Louis called out, his voice laced with panic now. There was no answer, just the distant sound of the party and the static of the line left open.
Louis didn't hesitate. He checked Harry's location on his phone, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He shook the others awake, explaining the situation as quickly as he could. They all piled into the car, the engine roaring to life as they sped through the streets. The city passed by in a blur as they raced to find Harry, each of them fearing the worst.
Louis's POV
Worry gnawed at me as I hung up the phone. Harry's voice had been shaky, his words tumbling out in a jumble that didn't sound like him. The odd decision to call instead of just walking over from the next room puzzled me until the background noise hinted he wasn't at home.
The sound of his voice, wobbly from drink, was abruptly cut off by a thud, sending a spike of fear through me. I shouted his name, only to be met with mumbles. Checking his location, I found it was off—way off. With a sense of urgency, I roused the others, explaining that Harry was in trouble. We piled into the car and sped to his last known location.
The mall was deserted, but there he was—Harry, lying motionless on the cold floor, a mess of vomit on his shirt. "Harry!" I called out, rushing over with the others hot on my heels. "Can you hear us?" Niall asked, but Harry's response was barely there, his eyes open but glazed. "Harry, what did you take?" I pressed, my voice firm yet gentle, as we all tried to keep him conscious. "I'll check his pockets," Liam volunteered, rummaging through to find only a tiny ziplock bag with the remnants of a pill and the cryptic 'L**' scrawled on it.
I take a closer look at the small bag in my hand, the remnants of a tablet barely visible. "It looks like LSD," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.
Zayn's observation breaks through my focus, "His pupils are huge," he notes with concern. Niall adds, "His heart's pounding, and he's breathing like he's run a marathon."
I nod, confirming my suspicion, "It's definitely some sort of hallucinogen."
A question slips from my lips before I can catch it, "Where on earth did he find this?"
The severity of the situation momentarily fades as confusion takes hold, but it's quickly shattered by the sound of Harry gagging. We all spring into action, supporting him as he struggles. Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and dial for an ambulance, the weight of the emergency pressing down on us once more.
Third person POV
The wail of sirens cuts through the night as the ambulance arrives with urgency. Medics spill out, their movements swift and sure as they assess Harry's fading consciousness. His responses are sluggish, his presence slipping away to the edge of awareness. The boys huddle close, a silent chorus of worry, watching the paramedics work with practiced precision.
"It's likely an overdose," one medic announces, examining the small bag labeled as LSD. "We need to get him to the hospital," states another, as they carefully transfer Harry onto a stretcher.
The gravity of the situation is clear when they advise the boys that Harry's critical condition means they cannot accompany him in the ambulance. Instead, they're instructed to follow behind.
The drive to the hospital was tense, each mile stretching out with the weight of uncertainty. In the car, Liam's knuckles were white against the steering wheel.
Upon arrival, we found ourselves in the sterile limbo of the waiting room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the clock on the wall seemed to tick louder than usual. We sat shoulder to shoulder, hope and fear mingling in the anxious air.
Niall fidgeted, Zayn stared at the floor, and Liam kept checking his phone for updates. Louis clasped his hands together, praying silently for Harry's recovery.
Minutes stretched into hours, and the hospital corridors echoed with footsteps and hushed conversations.
Niall's POV
Confusion and worry swirled in my mind as I tried to piece together the night's events. How did Harry end up at a party, taking drugs, when we had all gone to bed like any other night? My concern for him deepened, not just for the present moment but for his overall wellbeing. A nagging thought crept in—had I been a good enough friend?
Lost in these thoughts, I barely noticed Zayn's nudge until I looked up to see the doctor standing before us. He introduced himself as Dr. Whales. "Your friend has overdosed on what appears to be LSD," he said, his tone clinical yet concerned. "Does he have a history of mental health issues, like depression? It's important to know, especially if this was intentional."
We were too stunned to respond, our minds fixated on Harry's condition. Liam broke the silence with the question we all feared to ask, "Will he be okay?"
The doctor's apology was a mere whisper against the gravity of his words. "He's in a critical state due to the drugs and alcohol and his age, but he's stable. We're hopeful for a full recovery."
Louis's voice trembled as he asked, "Can we see him?" The doctor nodded and led us to Harry's room.
There he was, looking so pale and fragile that it took all my strength not to break down. We gathered around him, and the doctor's parting words reminded us to be patient and cautious.
The waiting was the hardest part. Time seemed to stand still until, amidst the haze of exhaustion, I noticed Harry stirring. "Harry?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. He nodded weakly, and I gently roused the others.
Liam's voice was thick with worry. "Hey bud, we've been so worried about you."
Louis couldn't hide his frustration, even through his fear. "Idiot, why would you do something like that? We could've lost you."
Zayn's agreement was stern. "Honestly, Lou's right, Harry. That was really stupid."
But I couldn't let them scold him, not now. "Boys, come on. He's sixteen and just waking up from an overdose. Let's not talk about what he did now—just be here for him."
Liam nodded, his voice softening. "Yeah, listen to Niall, this is not the right time for that. How are you feeling, bud?"
"Okay" Harry's response was faint, but it was there. And in that moment, I knew we'd do everything to help him through this—because that's what friends are for.
Harry's POV
As consciousness seeped back into my mind, I found myself in a strange, white room, the details around me blurred and indistinct. My eyes struggled to adjust, and as the haze lifted, the stark reality of a hospital room came into focus. Confusion gripped me, and I managed to croak out, "W-where am I?.. Wh-what happened?"
The boys were there, their faces etched with concern as they began to piece together the story for me. Overdosed on LSD? The words didn't make sense; my last memory was of the mall, everything after that a blank void. "I'm sorry," I whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
Niall's voice was a comforting presence in the sterile room. "Hey, hey, no need to apologize. Just focus on getting better," he soothed. His reassurance was a lifeline in the tumult of my thoughts.
"We're here for you, Haz," he continued, his words firm yet gentle. "To help with everything you need. Just please don't do this again." His plea was heartfelt, and I could only nod, a silent promise to myself and to them.
The room was filled with a collective sigh of relief as I acknowledged their concern. Liam stepped closer, his voice a mixture of relief and admonishment. "You gave us quite the scare, Harry. We need you to be more careful, mate."
Louis, who had been quiet, finally spoke up, his tone a blend of frustration and care. "Yeah, Harry. What were you thinking? You're not just hurting yourself, you know. We're a family here."
Zayn chimed in, his usual cool demeanor softened by the situation. "We've got your back, but you've got to talk to us, alright? Whatever it is, we can sort it out together."
The room settled into a quiet hum of machines and soft breathing. We sat in silence, each lost in thought, but united by the unspoken promise to be there for each other. The ordeal had shaken us, but it also strengthened the bond we shared.
After a while, I found the strength to speak again. "Thanks, guys. I... I don't know what happened...everything just go too much. I'll try, I promise." My voice was faint, but the determination was there.
Niall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "That's all we ask, Haz. We'll figure this out, one step at a time."
And with that, we settled in, a quiet vigil of friendship and healing, ready to face the challenges ahead, together.
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Hope you liked.
I could maybe do a part 2 if y'all want?