Is this how it's going to be, I asked myself. I clutched the sides of the porcelain basin with such force that I could feel my fingers begin to tingle. My reflection stared back at me through the mirror in the dim lighting of the Cuckoo Club's bathroom. I was in leather jacket over a crisp white button down shirt and skintight black jeans. It was a shame I didn't feel nearly as fierce as I looked. The thud of the bass traveled through the walls and made the floor vibrate. On the other side of the door, Zayn's launch party was in full swing.
Am I always going to feel this way? Am I always going to be this scared to face him? Will he always haunt me? Like a child afraid of a monster, I had hidden myself away in the bathroom the moment I heard Harry had walked into the party.
I stared down at my hands and slowly loosened my grip. I turned the tap on and let a stream of icy-cold water pour over my shaking hands. I watched my skin turn colors from the sudden change in temperature. Somewhere in the club, the DJ changed the song. I rotated my hands under the water as a new beat began. There was a steadiness to the rhythm. It was like a heartbeat. I found myself nodding along to it. Suddenly, the DJ added a new sound on top of the existing beat. It was a faraway mechanical whine, a staple for dubstep. The shrieking sound ascended, then descended in a predictable pattern. It was almost like...a siren.
New sounds were layered on top of the song, but I couldn't stop focusing on the siren sound. It burned in my mind and repeated until I turned off the tap and staggered backward into the wall. My breathing sped up and I couldn't calm down. My sense of hearing was overwhelmed by the siren sound. I felt like I was going to be sick. I pushed the door open to one of the cubicles and locked it behind me. I leaned over the toilet, but nothing happened. The screeching sound rose and fell in time.
When my head started swimming and my mind flickered, I realized I was recalling a memory. The siren was triggering something within me. I rested my weight against the cubicle wall and tried to focus on coaxing the memory back to me. It was difficult; the memory was resistant. It came back jagged and heavy, unlike any other I had experienced before. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
____________
His hand was clasped tightly around mine. We were walking shoulder to shoulder on the narrow walkway while a mass of people was crowding around. It was cold out, and I was watching the little puffs of steam that appeared every time either of us exhaled. I looked over to his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pursed. With his eyes diverted to the ground before us, I nudged him. Immediately, his green eyes locked with mine.
"Harry," I smiled, "kiss me."
"Not right now," he nodded to the cameras that were incessantly snapping pictures and the loud crowd of people.
"Let's give them a show," I teased.
He laughed lightly at my proposition and squeezed my hand playfully. "I'm not kissing you for the cameras." Harry's response was good-natured, but I could see past his teasing tone. Lately, he had been tense, but he wouldn't talk about it with me. No matter how gently I brought up the issue, he would always shrug it off.
There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind as we walked down the street toward the restaurant. It was a feeling I couldn't name; it was somewhere between guilty and worried. Whatever it was, it had been plaguing me for a week. It all began when Laura, Henry, and Terrence accused me of being detrimental to Harry's wellbeing. How can I swallow the thought of hurting the person I care for most? I had been waiting for the right time to bring the issue up with Harry, but he was so busy that time slipped away from me.
With each step I took, my heart felt like it had to beat twice as hard. My chest tightened and I gasped for a full breath. The street tilted, but just slightly. The level street suddenly had an incline. I took a step to adjust to the slope, but my foot came down to an even surface and I nearly lost my balance. I had misjudged the step. The street hadn't slanted at all. Harry's hand tightened around mine and he looked over at me, "Okay, love?" His voice sounded like I was underwater.
"Yeah," I breathed. I blinked hard and tried to refocus. My head suddenly felt too heavy for my neck to hold up. It began to pitch forward and I couldn't stop it. A sick feeling rose in my throat. I jerked my hand away from Harry, causing him to stop. "I don't feel well. Something's wrong. Something is really wrong."
"What's the matter?" he asked, voice frantic.
I looked at Harry with the intent to explain, but I couldn't open my mouth. Lines began to blur. My legs felt weak. I could only make out Harry's silhouette. Everything was going dark. My balance was gone.
I could feel the cold, hard concrete beneath me. A singeing pain sparked in my head and shot down my spine. It was a terrifying pain because a head should not hurt that much. I wanted to scream, but my body didn't have the energy. I couldn't think clearly. I couldn't even open my eyes.
I felt a hand tug the hem of my dress back down to cover me. It must have gone askew when I fell. I could hear voices shouting all around me. I couldn't understand their exact words, but could hear the tonal inflections. They sounded excited or scared.
Everything remained dark. It was like walking in a room and the light went out. I couldn't tell how near or far anything was. My senses were misleading. The only thing that was sure was the pain I felt in my head. I needed to get help. The pain was only getting worse.
"Kate?" It was Harry's voice. It was shaking. "Kate? Somebody call for help!"
"Back off!" Nick's voice rang out loudly, authoritatively. "Give her room! Get out of here! Back away!"
Confusion swallowed me. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn't move. I had no control of my body. I didn't know what was happening to me or why I was in that state.
"Baby," Harry's voice whispered close to my ear, "please wake up. I need you to get up."
I'm trying, I thought.
"Don't move her!" A new voice came out of the buzz of voices. It was older and unfamiliar. "You can't move her. She needs to stay put."
"I don't want her out here for the entire world to see!" Harry snapped. "Take her inside."
"Listen to me, lad," the older voice replied calmly. "I have seen this happen many times. She needs to stay lying down. It will help her wake up. Her heart needs to slow down."
"Nick!" Harry said loudly, "Block her from their view."
"Keep talking to her," the older voice instructed. "She needs to hear something familiar. She might be scared."
"Listen, love," Harry whispered to me, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. You need to wake up. Can you wake up for me?"
"They're coming! Help is on its way." Nick bellowed.
"Come on," Harry pleaded. "Come on. Just open your eyes. Let me know you're okay. Can you hear me? Wiggle your fingers if you can hear me."
I tried to wiggle my fingers, but I couldn't. Opening my eyes was out of the question. With each passing second, I was getting more and more afraid.
"How is her pulse?" the older voice called. I felt the top buttons of my coat come undone and a wave of cold air sweep over me. Two fingers pressed to my neck beneath my jaw. "It's slow. They better hurry."
"Baby," Harry said in small voice, "please wake up."
In the distance, I could hear the shrill cry of a siren. Gasps and hushed voices came from people nearby. I tried to focus on the siren. Help was coming. In a few minutes, I would be able to open my eyes and I could see Harry. He would hold me in his arms and I would be okay again.
The pain in my head worsened in a sharp burst. The pain was starting to deafen me. My sense of hearing was slipping away. Voices sounded like they were muffled by walls. I began to really panic. I was losing my grip. Everything was slipping away.
"I'm right here. You're going to be okay. We're getting you help. I won't leave you. Please, baby. Please be okay."
Sirens heaved up and down as they approached. I lay motionless on the public walkway with a crowd gathering. Harry hovered over me whispering supportive words as I fought. But nothing was preventing me from falling over the edge. The pain strangled me. My heart was beginning to slow down. Voices were barely audible. The darkness was closing in.
Before I lost all of my senses and submitted to the force tearing me away, I heard one last sentence. It was rushed and dripping in fear as it fell from the lips of the person I only ever knew to be slow and steady. "I love you," Harry whispered.
____________
I opened my eyes as a shiver ran down my spine. Harry had said it the day I passed out on the street. As I was losing consciousness and Harry was getting desperate, he said he loved me. Even in the fear of losing me, he was too busy loving me.
During the time the memory came back to me, other girls had filed into the bathroom. I could hear them standing in front of the mirror chattering about some of the other guests. Their voices were excited and high-pitched. The sound of the tap turning on and then off was followed by the distinct snap of a makeup compact.
"How did you even get invited?" one voice asked.
"My housemate from uni invited me. She's dating one of Zayn's producers."
There was a torrent of giggles. "Zayn is so fit."
"You know who else is fit?"
"You don't even have to say it. We all know."
"Harry."
"Styles."
I lost track of how many girls were talking. The unfamiliar voices were warped by laughter and hushed whispers. But I didn't need to know who was talking to instantly resent her for talking about Harry. My fists clenched at my sides. I kept my vision focused on my feet and tried not to breathe to give away my hiding spot.
The girls exited the bathroom and I was alone again. I ran my hands through my hair a few times and took a deep breath. All of the confidence I had felt the week before when I was with Zayn had vanished. My desire to seek Harry out had been replaced with a paralyzing fear of seeing him. Somewhere on the other side of the door, Harry was wandering around the party freely. That thought rattled me to my core.
When the pounding, pulsating music from the DJ quieted, I forced myself out of the bathroom. I walked down to the lower part of the club where all of the guests were standing or seated around the stage that had been created for Zayn's performances. I stood at the back of the crowd and tried to remain unnoticed. Two women in tall heels and short cocktail dresses concealed me from most people's view.
I glanced around the club and recognized quite a few faces. I could see people from the management company who were there to support Zayn. I recognized people from the industry: producers, stylists, and performers. Across the club seated at a table with some unfamiliar faces was Harry.
My mouth went dry. My heart stopped. My mind blanked.
"I want to thank everyone for coming tonight." My eyes snapped away from Harry and landed on Zayn who had taken the stage. He was a vision in head to toe Balmain. His eyes had a certain sparkle I had never seen before. He seemed so happy, so natural. "It truly means to the world to have your support. The road to get to this point was definitely rough. I had to sacrifice a lot to get here, but it was worth it. If I could give a piece of advice to you all tonight, it would be to follow your heart. No matter how terrifying it may be, no matter what other people might think, no matter how far away you've drifted; you can reach your goal. You can achieve your dreams."
The audience applauded and Zayn turned red. He took a half-step away from the microphone and gave an embarrassed laugh. "I cannot say another word without giving a proper thank you to a few people. First, I want to thank my family for always supporting me and loving me. I want to thank my label for believing in me. I want to thank all of the artists in this room. You inspire me and push me to be better. I want to thank anyone who has ever listened to my music.
"The biggest thank you of all actually belongs to four people. I want to express my gratitude to Liam, Louis, Niall, and Harry for teaching me how to be a good friend and good performer. I want to thank them for being good role models for me. Thank you for being patient and being honest. Thank you for ultimately believing in me, even when it was hard. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. You boys mean the world to me. I love you all."
The four boys smiled up at Zayn and the mood in the room changed to sentimental. There was a collective aww! Finally, Zayn stepped up to the microphone and the music began to play.
Zayn's music was provoking. His lyrics were smart and the music complimented him with complex rhythms and genre-transcending elements. It was the type of music that made you think while simultaneously being a refreshing escape. It was the type of music that made you feel something.
When the three-song set ended, everyone stood on their feet for Zayn Malik. He had come a long way, but he had made it.
____________
I stood near the bar watching the party unfold before me. People would wander by and offer me a drink, but I always declined with the excuse that I was working—which I was. Though I had been on the guest list, I was also at the party as a PR consultant from Hendrix and Carter. It was a convenient excuse to be at the party, but was also a reason I had to stay longer.
"Kate," a voice said slowly. I turned around to see Zayn standing before me. He had a soft smile. He had taken his velvet and leather bomber jacket off. "There you are."
"Here I am," I said quietly.
"I really want to thank you for putting all of this together."
"I didn't do it alone, Zayn," I smiled. "I worked with a team."
"I know that," he chuckled, "but you have really gone out of your way to see this project through. That really means a lot to me. I really appreciate your help with all of the social media changes, the website launch, and the digital download release. And thank you for this party. You are amazing."
"You're welcome, Zayn."
"Have you talked to the other boys yet?" he asked.
"No," I shook my head. "I've been busy."
"Right, then I won't keep you. Have fun. And thanks again."
"Congratulations, Zayn. A lot of people look up to you. Don't let the negative voices be the loudest ones you hear."
"That's good advice, Kate." Zayn shot me a smile over his shoulder before stalking off to another part of the club where a group of people welcomed him with loud cheers and pats on the back.
Zayn's family and a few friends left the club slowly. I watched as a few of the other artists made their way upstairs and out of the club. It was getting late and they had made their appearance. It wasn't long before Harry began his ascent toward the upper floor of the club to leave. When he was no longer in sight, I dashed up the stairs without thinking.
The line for the coat check was long. The woman at the front of the line had lost her ticket and was desperately trying to explain to the attendant what her coat looked like. The people behind her in line cast exasperated looks her direction. They rolled their eyes, pulled out their phones, or sighed angrily. There was one person, however, at the back of the line who didn't appear annoyed in the slightest. Harry stood back with his hands in his pockets, seemingly unaware of the inconvenience before him.
Enough people were standing around the room that Harry didn't see me. Cater waiters rushed back and forth carrying empty trays of food as they hurried to clean up. People who were unwilling to brave the coat check line hovered around the merchandise table perusing Zayn's CD as well t-shirts, hoodies, and wristbands, boasting Zayn's name. The room was chaotic, but I felt calm. Seeing Harry always made me feel calm.
I thought about what Zayn had said in his speech. I wanted to follow my heart, but that was an impossibility. It wasn't because what my heart wanted was so unreachable. It wasn't because I was undecided. It was because my heart didn't belong just to me. Long ago I had given half of my heart away and I had never gotten it back. My heart partially belonged to the dark haired boy across the room.
Harry Styles was complicated; he was young and wise, influential and reserved, loving and accepting. He was a restless seeker. His life was not really his own, but he made the best of it. Even in situations when he should be upset, Harry was happy. He cared so much about other people. Harry had always cared about me. He had always loved me. And as I stood there gazing at him from across a crowded room, I knew that I had always loved him too, and if I didn't tell him soon, it would be too late.
Something cracked in the deepest part of me. I took one step forward, then another. Once my legs got moving, I couldn't be stopped. Everything else in the room was distant; voices, clinking glasses, laughing, music, feet dancing upon the floor. I was immune to it all. My mind had focused in on one thing only.
When I reached up to tap on his shoulder, I realized I didn't have a plan. I didn't have any idea what was going to come out of my mouth. Instead of letting that terrify me, I ignored it. I touched Harry's shoulder and felt the soft silk of his shirt. It was black and had tiny white arrows all over. I didn't even need to guess the brand. Harry turned around and looked down at me. His green eyes widened and his mouth fell agape as if he were seeing a ghost. In some ways, he was.
In the few seconds of silence that passed without words, the earth stopped spinning.
"Kate." Harry said my name like it was his to say.
"Harry," I breathed.
It was my moment. If I didn't say anything now, nothing could ever be said again. The rest of the people in the room seemed to slip away. Everything quieted. It was just Harry and me. This was my chance.
"I miss you. I really miss you. Being away from you for so long made it clear how much you mean to me. I was wrong for the way I treated you. I tried to pretend my feelings for you stopped existing, but they didn't. And now, I just want to be with you," I blurted. Harry's face softened. When he didn't start speaking, I kept going. "I was so lucky to have you. And I would be lucky to have you again. So if you could call me sometime, I would love that." The words were heavy in my head, heavier in my mouth, but heaviest when they were finally spoken and left hanging in the air.
"Yeah," he shrugged impassively. "Yeah, I'll call you."
I had expected fireworks. I had expected an angelic choir to emerge as Harry took me into his arms and expressed his undying love for me. When that didn't happen, I nodded to him. I brushed past Harry and walked out the front door of the Cuckoo Club.
The night was freezing. A cold wind whipped around the street and my leather jacket was hardly a defense. I kept my head down and the few remaining photographers didn't seem to notice me leaving. I rushed down the walkway toward the bus stop. I focused all of my attention on the weather because thinking about how miserable the cold was seemed infinitely easier than thinking about how cold Harry had been.
I didn't even get to the bus stop before my phone started ringing. I took my phone from my clutch. When I saw the name on my screen, I stopped breathing. "Hello?"
"Hello, love," Harry rasped.
"Hi," I said softly.
"Clear your schedule for Sunday. I have to see you."