@Real_Liam_Payne: No we arent postponing teh tour. Dont you guyys worry :):)
@Louis_Tomlinson: Leave it to @Harry_Styles to fuck shit up. #waytogooooomate
@ZaynMalik: @Louis_Tomlinson shut up, and stop being a dick.
He told me that over the phone, miles and miles away from each other, was not a good time to discuss my feelings.
He told me that we would talk when I returned from L.A.
I couldn't board the plane fast enough, although, if I had known what was waiting for me when I touched down again, I probably would have stayed in America.
"I'm so, so, so sorry." He had said it over and over again. I didn't believe him. If he had been as sorry as he claimed he was, he wouldn't have told Zayn to call his psychiatrist friend. I didn't know what I had done wrong, honest. I had only told him that I loved him.
"Harry, you need to snap out of it." He shook my shoulders, attempting to get me to blink, to speak, to do something. "Harry," he nearly cried. "It's not funny. Please move. Anything."
I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I barely registered anything even coming out of his mouth, although I tried my best, because I loved him.
"Harry." He shook my shoulders again, crying for real this time. "I don't know what to do. Please respond. You can't die. Are you dying? What's going on? I don't know what to do."
I just sat there, crumpled on the floor. I couldn't move. Niall tried to get me to roll over, and it worked, but he thought I would stop breathing. So he put me back on my side again. Stop breathing? I think I wanted to.
"Goddamn it Harry!" He screamed. I wanted to reach out and trace my hand over his cheek, but I couldn't move. He scrambled around for his phone frantically. All the commotion had made his mouth begin to bleed again. I could see it on his teeth. I couldn't say anything. "Yes, hello? I need an ambulance. My friend isn't breathing I don't think. No, no. He won't respond to anything. He won't close his eyes. I don't know! I'm sorry, I don't know!"
I wanted to tell him that I was okay. I wasn't okay. But he needed to hear the lie. He needed to be okay, and if lying got him there, then I wanted to lie. Niall came before me, especially then. He was more important. I couldn't stand to see him crying.
"Harry." Niall focused his attention back to me, and my vision was getting blurry. "Harry, stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Please, please God. I need him alive."
I need him. He had actually said it. It was the last thing I heard before blacking out.
I'd woken to incessant beeping.
It had taken a few minutes after my mind was awake before I could open my eyes. When I finally did, the scene before me was not a happy one.
The boys had been hunched over, slack jawed and deadbeat tired near the window of the white hospital room. It hadn't taken long for me to realize the beeping was my heart monitor. Why I was on one, I hadn't been too sure.
Louis was the first to notice me. "Christ, you're awake."
I only nodded.
"Can you talk?" Zayn asked softly, as he had stood and walked over to me.
"Yes." My voice was a croak, and I was ashamed. I sounded so weak in front of them, in front of Niall.
"You had a panic attack, mate." Zayn had placed his hand in my unfortunately greasy hair. "Niall called the hospital for you."
"Niall?"
"Yeah," Zayn nodded. "Niall."
"I love him."
"I'm going to get a water." Niall stood up, and crossed the hospital room. I watched his every move, hurried, awkward. I didn't know what I had done to cause that. "Anybody else need one?"
"We're all good." The boys' voices rang out in unison, and I could feel Zayn staring me down. I had been awfully uncomfortable laying in the hospital bed under the scrutiny of my best friends. I didn't want them staring at me.
"What happened, Harry?" Zayn had appeared worried, but I know now that he just wanted the information that Niall refused to give.
"I came home from L.A. like Niall wanted me to." I tried to explain myself, but the beeping had gotten faster, more annoying. A nurse rushed in. She had hair the color of Ariel's, and she shooed my best friends away from me. She said they were making me stress.
They weren't making me stress. It wasn't their fault that they didn't know what had happened. They were only curious. I wanted to tell them, but I couldn't tell them. I felt like I was drowning, underwater and unable to surface. The nurse told them to leave the room. I didn't want them to go. I couldn't say anything. I was feeling lightheaded again. The nurse was pressing buttons beside me, and after what felt like an eternity of not being able to breath, I slipped back into the darkness.
The second time I awoke, they said it was actually the eighth time. I was in a new room, less hospitally, more officey. There had been new people staring over me. Zayn was still there. He told me that Niall had called his friend to help me. At the time, I didn't know why Niall wouldn't just help me himself. He was what I wanted.
"Harry, it's me." An unfamiliar voice had said. I hadn't wanted to open my eyes again, for fear that Niall would be missing. "It's Audrey, Harry. Remember me from yesterday?"
"No." I said, although I had lied. I did remember Audrey. She had told me that she was a psychiatrist, but that I shouldn't worry because I was okay. I wasn't crazy. I was perfectly normal for Harry, she had said.
"Yes, you do." She had a voice that made you instantly calm down. I hadn't known what it was, maybe the maternal sounding ease she spoke with. "I need you to open your eyes and talk to me."
I obeyed, if only because that meant less time I would spend away from Niall.
"Good job, Harry. You've got wonderful eyes. They aren't a boring brown like mine. I'm jealous of your green ones." She made light conversation as she had sat beside me on the white couch.
"Thank you." I had murmured.
"You're very welcome. Now, do you know why you're here?"
"No."
"Niall called me in, actually. He said that you might need extra help." She spoke softer. "Is that alright?"
"Where is Niall? Why isn't he here?" I probably sounded angry, although I was just sad. Niall hadn't been there when I needed him. He had failed me. That thought alone made my head spin. I couldn't breathe.
"Harry, Harry. Stop thinking about Niall, okay? Listen. I need you to take deep breaths. Zayn and Louis are right outside the door if you need someone. You aren't alone in this." Audrey had placed her hand on my arm. Her fingers were long and slim, her nails were painted a lovely orange color. I focused on that.
"Okay."
"Do you want to talk about what happened in Los Angeles? Or on the plane back?"
I was silent for a minute, but I told her. I told her about walking on the beach and shopping. I told her about meeting fans and taking a few pictures. I told her about not being able to fall asleep. I told her about what Niall said. I told her I didn't care.
"He insulted you, Harry. He was a dick."
"No. No. No." I shook my head. "He didn't mean it. He was just on drugs. He was confused. He wouldn't ever hurt me like that. Not on purpose."
"Has he said things like that before? Had he called you a fag, or Zayn a slut before?"
I had wanted to lie. I had wanted to tell her that Niall was perfect, because he was. But I couldn't lie. "Yeah. He used to say things like that all the time. Back when I hated him."
"Is that why you hated him?"
"No." I felt like crying, but I couldn't.
"Why did you hate him?"
"I couldn't like him." I said simply.
"But, why not?"
"I can't like anybody. I'm not good for anyone."
"Oh, Harry. You're brilliant. You're kind. You're honest. You're intelligent. You're, frankly, gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to have you." She listed off more characteristics that she was certain I had. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she didn't actually know me. She didn't know the real me, anyway. Only I did.
"Okay."
"You like Niall now, though, right?"
I had nodded. "I love him."
"So, what changed? Are you good for people now?"
"No."
"Then what changed?" She asked curiously. I wanted to tell her to answer the question for me.
"I don't know." I had said simply.
Audrey stood up from the couch, leaving me alone, to go to her desk. She grabbed a few papers before coming back to the couch. "I'm going to tell you what I think happened. Is that alright?"
"Please."
"Harry, do you know what oxytocin is?"
I was confused. "The sex hormone? But Niall and I never had sex."
"Yes, the sex hormone. Sometimes, in special cases, oxytocin is also released in times of panic or stress. Have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"
"Niall isn't holding me captive. I don't understand." And I hadn't. I had no idea what she was getting at.
"I know that. But you've had nine panic attacks in the past two and a half days. The more that you panic over faking a relationship with Niall- yes, Zayn told me it was fake- the more oxytocin has a chance of being released."
"What?"
"When did you begin to have feelings for Niall?" She stopped explaining and asked me a question.
"I think it happened sometime before Rita's party. Maybe even sooner."
"Right. So, I took the liberty of contacting your manager. I had to promise I wouldn't leak any of this information, but he agreed to give me a timeline of yours and Niall's publicity stunt. I have all the articles and pictures in this folder." She held up a purple folder. "Is it alright with you if I tell you when I think you began having feelings for Niall?"
"Yeah." I had stuttered, but she hadn't said anything.
"You two had done various things before you went on that date to the park, I'm sure. But what was special about that particular day? Do you remember?"
I knew immediately. How could I have forgotten? "Niall kissed me for the first time."
"Did you like it?" She asked.
"No, I hadn't."
"Did you panic?" She asked another question. I had had to think. Had I?
"I don't remember."
"For the sake of my theory, that is- ego aside- more than likely dead on, let's say you did."
"Okay."
"I think that was when your mind panicked, allowing the release of oxytocin and subliminally bonding you to your source of anxiety."
"Niall." I had said, finally beginning to understand.
"Exactly."
"So, you're saying that I have a type of Stockholm Syndrome?" I asked, and she laughed, although I didn't know what was funny.
"No. I'm saying that you have ROCD."
"What the bloody hell is ROCD?" I had sputter. It sounded like a disorder, and I didn't want it. I wanted to be as ordinary as possible.
"It stands for Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." She explained. "You're an interesting case, because you seemed to go through more than one process."
"What?"
"ROCD is when a person has so much insecurity in themselves, for what ever reason, that it causes anxiety in their relationships."
"I'm not that insecure." I had defended my honor, but the look of disbelief she gave me was enough to keep me quiet.
"OCD is an anxiety disorder, and ROCD is a type of it. The person will do a variety of things. Some find a flaw in their loved one, and although they do love them, they can't stop thinking about that one flaw. Some people get obsessed with their partner's past or what their partner is doing without them, constantly checking in or calling. They want to make sure their partner is still interested in them. It's different than an abusive relationship; it's a self-destructive mechanism.
Some, and this would be you, become obsessed with their partner always being there when they're in need. They turn them into this perfect Christ-figure, I suppose. You want Niall to be your knight in shining armor. Am I right?"
I remember blushing profusely at that.
"But he failed you a lot, am I correct? He kissed Barbara Palvin. He called you names. He didn't say that he loved you back, did he? He left your hospital room. He isn't here now. He-"
"Stop." My heart was on overdrive. My eyes were getting blurry. Audrey didn't say anything else. She just held my hand. I looked down at her fingers again. I focused on her nail polish. I thought about the orange color. I didn't think about Niall. Audrey waited for me to calm down again.
"So, you switched the roles. You had to be Niall's knight in shining armor. Otherwise, he might not like you. Am I right?"
"Niall needed help!" I was frustrated with all of her assumptions of Niall. "He isn't bad. I'm the one that's bad."
"I'm not saying that you deserve better than him, Harry. You obviously have always liked him. That's nothing new. But, you deserve better for yourself. You're better than your anxiety."
"Do I have to get tested?" The taste in my mouth at that point had been sour.
Audrey nodded. "This is just a pre-diagnosis. Nothing is for certain right now. Luckily, you'll be up north for the first part of your tour. There's a place there that can help you. Niall had all your information sent up ahead of time, so that it'll go quickly and easily."
My head perked up at the sound of his name. "Niall did?"
Audrey had smiled wide, and she nodded. "Yeah, Niall did."
"When am I going in for testing?" I had asked, getting back on topic so that my head would stop spinning.
"Sunday. That's four days away, just so you know. You were in and out of consciousness for two and a half days." Audrey opened up her folder, scanning through the articles about Niall and I. I watched her as she pulled out a particular photo. I had recognized it instantly. "I'm partial to this picture of you two. I think Louis took it?"
"Yeah. He did."
"Crazy to think that was months ago, huh?"
"Mhmm." I agreed.
"Time sure flies when you're in love, am I right?" She asked me, and I was confused.
"I thought you said I wasn't actually in love with-"
"I never said you didn't love him. I just said that there's a lot of shit covering it up right now."
"Oh."
"But," Audrey leaned in closer to me, as if she were about to tell me the world's greatest secret or something or other. "You never answered me."
"What?"
"Did Niall say he loved you back? When you returned from L.A.?"
"I-I-I..."
"Hey," she placed her hand back onto my arm. "Relax. It's okay."
"He never answered. I uh, I kind of had an incident before he could." I explained, my face heated up and I was certain my cheeks were as red and the office walls.
"Well, when he does, let me know."
"Okay." I nodded.
Audrey closed the purple folder, and handed me a few papers. "These are some info sheets on ROCD for you to read, if you're interested. And I've also written down the names of a few anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills you can take. You'll have to go to an actual doctor to get the prescriptions written, but I would suggest them if your tests come back positive."
I took the papers from her hands. "I'll never be normal, will I?" I asked suddenly.
Audrey's eyebrows scrunched together. "What are you talking about?"
"First my parents divorce. Then I'm gay. Then I'm famous. Now, I've got a crazy disorder. I'll never be ordinary."
"You're perfectly ordinary for Harry Styles."
That was the second time she had told me that, and I smiled. "Thanks."
"Just like I'm perfectly ordinary for Audrey Alexie; parents still married, straight, infamous, and slightly addicted to vodka." I knew she said it to make me laugh, so I did.
Zayn and Louis had been waiting for me in the hallway, just like Audrey had said. When I walked out, they tackled me to the floor, pressing sloppy kisses to my face.
"He's alive! Oh my God! He's alive! He isn't dead, Zayn! He's alive!" Louis wasn't shouting, exactly. But he had been talking rather loudly next to my ear.
"Ouch, get off of me." I had pushed them both away, and they chuckled. Zayn helped me back up, and Louis brushed me off. It was nice that they hadn't treated me as if I was fragile. I don't think I wouldn't have been able to handle that.
"Liam and Niall are in a meeting with Reese." Louis explained.
"It's about you and Niall." Zayn added, and I closed my eyes. I couldn't panic. It was not the time to be anxious. If I did, then it would start all over again. I couldn't do that to the guys. I couldn't do that to myself.
"And also the tour, because people think we should postpone it because of you."
"No."
"That's what we said." Louis and Zayn spoke simultaneously. They pulled me along down the hallway, and out to the car. Louis was driving. We laughed about all the things we would do on tour, and nobody brought up Narry or my attacks, or anything. It felt as if things were suddenly going back to normal. Things were going to be peaceful.
But nothing ever stayed that way.
And I suppose that's why I'm sat in Reese's office right now, waiting for him to tell me that I fucked up.
"So, Harry. You've had quite an exciting week."
"Yeah." I say, dryly. I don't even want to attempt humor at the moment.
"Good for ticket sales." He muses, and I refrain from rolling my eyes.
"What do you want, Reese?"
"Oh, nothing, really. I just wanted to tell you that you and Niall did Narry fantastically. Seriously, you two were stunning. One Direction has been in the papers and magazines more in the past two months than it has since the summer of 2012. That's a fact."
"Okay?"
"However, it's run thin. Sure, it's got a little boost still left in its step. But, the Kardashians have become more interesting. Another Amish show has aired. Whatever the hell it is that overthrew our reign. The only chance it still has falls into the hands of your fans." He explains.
I'm slightly confused. "What do you mean?"
"It's up to them. If they like it in the next couple days, whilst the tour is on, then I want you two to continue. If they're indifferent, you can stop."
"But how do you gauge something like that?" I ask, because I have no idea. Honestly, I'm just trying to avoid thinking to hard about it all. I don't want another panic attack over this. The tour starts tomorrow. We're heading up tonight, and if I go bad again, we'll have to postpone. The boys won't go on without me.
"The power of marketing and knowing your audience. Welcome to publicity, Harry."
"Thanks for the loving greetings." This time I don't stop myself from rolling my eyes, and Reese laughs.
"No hard feelings for making you do this, right?"
"No. No hard feelings." I say truthfully. Reese nods, and I sense that our meeting is over. Standing and walking out into the hallway, I'm greeted by the rest of the boys.
"What did he say?"
"Narry continues for at least a few more days." I look at Niall, who has a poker face. We haven't discussed anything in the past two days. It's been too much of a whirlwind for the tour to make any sort of serious conversation. He nods, and I direct my question at him. "Is that okay?"
"I think so." He says as the other guys walk down the hall, leaving us to follow behind. "Are you alright with it?"
"I think so." I give him a small smile.
"You know, you scared the shit out of me the other day." Niall looks me in the eye, and I can see the apology etched on his face. "I think that worrying over you completely made me forget about my mouth. I've healed faster than, hell. I don't know."
"You're welcome." I smirk, trying so very hard to keep my heart from beating too quickly, trying so very hard to remain friendly. A friendship has no anxiety attached to it. I can be friends with Niall.
We make it to the ground floor before we're stopped by our guards who waited for us. Apparently, our fans know where we were, and they're waiting outside. The other three lads have already gotten into the tour bus, one of our guys says. It's just Niall and I.
"Hey." Niall says quietly, pausing before we go out the door.
"Yeah?"
"Hold my hand, Harry."
AUTHOR'S NOTE/ I suppose that now is a good time to tell you that, uh, well...this is in the short story category. And seeing as I suck at warnings, I'm expected some pissed readers. But, this is the final chapter.
The disorder that Harry has is a real thing. But please, don't go around saying that you've got ROCD simply because you like a guy a little too much, or because you can't get over your best friend's height to width ratio. People who have this condition need serious help, and just as thousands of people claim to have depression- people claim to have ROCD. Please don't do that. Actual testing, as mentioned, is done to determine the diagnosis, not the petty assumptions of a person who wants to be special in some way.
Thank you to every single one of you who have read this, voted on the chapters, made me laugh with your comments, and even sent me in fanart (which can be found on my website). I love you all, and I'm so happy that you gave me the time of day to tell you a story.