'Guess who's dating Harry Styles now,'
'Tattoos as words he can't speak?'
'Harry using woman for hiding how vulnerable he really is?'
'Harry Styles, villain of the year.'
'Someone's keeping up with Swift's record.'
'Harry Styles letting management control his every move?'
'Larry Stylinson is for real.'
'Very manipulative, womanizing, pretentious, attention-seeking jerk'
'Some things do change.'
Introduction
He left her with nothing but a broken heart and bag of even more painful memories with broken promises. And all it took was just one audition.
Harry Styles and Christine Evans were childhood lovers. A relationship every woman and even man would die to have, every poet tried to verbalize through ink and paper, and something the word 'cliché' came to life. They've been together since their little cradles, but when Harry went on to pursue his dreams and chance his luck, everything was gone; Little did he know that it was both of them that caused the massive pain they're both experiencing.
Promises, memories, everything was completely gone to the blue. After two years in an in-demand band, a lot got to Harry's head, management forced him to change and he let them, just because he had 'nothing else to lose anyway'.
After one horrible breakdown of his, Harry together with the other lads got sent back to school and their hometown, as to say to keep their minds on stable. Though Niall should be in Mullingar, the management thought it'd be better to stay together with the ones majoring. Harry not remembering his breakdown at all or so he tried. And no one dared to make him.
Both great liars for what they really felt and for what really happened. Will they ever know the real reason and will the conclusion come out as good? Hopefully fate's a big part of this tragedy because if the torns already dug deeper than expected, the end will not be as blooming as the petals of their past. This is, his last chance.
(Trailer on the side)
Prologue
It's done. Please, let it be done.
It's been years Christine, I closed my eyes. That thought, that phrase, that fact ran all over my head. The pain, it's different this time, it's always different. The pain always grew, changed but never settled. It never stopped. It's not like I didn't try, I do, I did. Every morning, I put up a smile, I swallow down the words I should've said, I choke the wrong feelings out. But I'm still missing something, it's still not enough. Somehow, something went wrong.
'This is for you Tintin, this is for us.'
He said. This was for us, that one day when he receives his first paycheck that he'll take me to the movies, that it will be his treat from then on, that we could wear those useless 'disguises' when we go out because you're going to be this big teen sensation; At least you got that one right. And yeah; That, everything will still be the same. You fucking liar.
Because guess what? This is not the same, we are not the same. It could've been, if only you went back and tried harder. It could've been, if only I stayed and tried harder. But the thing I learned from all of this is that: Some things do change, some things have to change, and we're absolute idiots to let it.
I grabbed it from my cabinet.
On the other hand I dialed. Let's not focus on the fact on how I got your number again. Let's not focus on the fact that you didn't even try to contact me after. Let's not focus on the fact how my fingers feel so numb right now. Let us not. Please.
I laid it on top my wrist. Just wait.
My breathing heavy, my chest hurts-when does it not?, and my thoughts clouded yet focused on one thing: You. How do you manage to do that? How could you just leave, forget and make me so angry at the same time so helplessly in love with you? That even if after all of this, if you just call or knock on my door, I will not do anything else but love you even more?
Ring after ring after ring.
Maybe this isn't such a smart thing to do. He gave me Harry's number and just left. Looked at me and handed the paper with ink scribbled into curves that turned out to be a group of numbers that lead me to now. Why he did it? No clue. Breath clouding the mic on my phone, maybe trying to block out your voice. That is, if you answer. I don't know why I ev-
"Hello?"
And now I slid it down.
Not from shock but because hearing your voice hurted more than the throbbing slips and drops from my wrist.
He sounds so tired but the kind of tired where you don't want the person who's trying to talk to you to notice it. But I'm not just any person, well I used to not be. He cleared his throat, a move meaning his too tired to get annoyed by the caller and tried again with a more seeking 'hello?'.
I keep sliding it at the same place, deeper and deeper until I hit the slightly thin wire that pours out the red thick substance.
For a few seconds in was so silent. So silent that I thought I was deaf, no buzzing sound, no breathing, no tick from the clock, not even the usual sound of the sharp tip constantly sliding back and forth at the same area in my wrist, no nothing. It was the silence I needed before he figured it out. It was the silence I missed so much.
I was never alone but I always felt like it, it was always quiet but not silent. My head beated against my head together with my heart, I wished that everyone would just shut up but no one was talking. I needed the world to stop, I needed everyone to stop. I needed him back.
There goes one hand, let's do the other.
"Who is this?"
Oh, he figured it out.
The way he asked, not a without-knowledge tone but the confirming one. As if confirming if your salmon's baked not fried, if it's an AM not a PM, if this was true or a hallucination.
No words came out of my mouth nor formulated in my head.
What am I suppose to say?
'Hello? Yes, Hi Harry. This is your ex-girlfriend who you haven't seen nor contacted for almost 3 years now. Yeah, the one you left to pursue your dreams of big checks and blonde chicks. Just called because your best mate gave me your number and now I'm doing it again and I'm losing it. So how are you?'
Well that's one way to do it. But no. Just pure silenced bliss.
He didn't try to ask again, he didn't try anything. Oh yeah, you're good at this. You're so good at lying and not trying but I too, am good at that but not for the same reasons. I know my reasons are better than yours.
Now breathing was involved. Not too long for me though. Here's to hoping.
I was surprised that this form of silence blocked out the noise coming from the other side of my bathroom door. The constant yells and pleads. Agh, just leave me please. The doorknob roughly getting twisted, two black circular shadows visible underneath the door, the door vibrating, the room turning, my mouth open, my lungs dry, but not my hands and wrists.
I held the phone to my ear tighter as it started to weigh me down. My eyes stayed put but my head wasn't. I haven't realized that I let out a small whimper when you suddenly tried again.
"H-hello?"
You didn't sound annoyed, you even sounded as if you're worried, as if you cared. The first part of the 'hello' kinda got pitched and I knew you knew. You just didn't have the guts to say it out loud. You just don't know how to deal with this. What? You embarrassed that I have the bigger balls to try something again for the both of us? Or maybe scared. Oh we both knew why you were and why I was starting to be too.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes. Preventing myself to let anything slip out from both closed parts of my face. I laid back, it was starting to get heavier and I was starting to float. Good.
You must know, I am done.
This thing might be just another phase-oh I had a couple of other phases of post-depression from our not confirmed separation. But this is my last. It has to be because if another phase starts, I wouldn't be there. This time I have to make sure it's the last.
I just wanted to hear the regret and fear and all the other fucked up feelings I had for you on your voice as the last thing I'll ever hear. I just want you to feel what I felt. I just.. I just. This feels insanely good, I feel nothing.
My eyes are closed now, my thoughts are drifting and I could both feel and hear the beating of my heart all over my body. The last thing that I remembered was two voices, both calling my name, one in fret and the other in regret.
"CHRISTINE!"
"Christine?"
The door opened, a light shoved.
The phone fell, a love died.
-
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(Anyone could make me a new cover?)