This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad idea. Why was I here? I should've just stayed home. Shaking out my curly hair, I tried to calm myself with deep breaths.
I knocked on Zayn's door. The next few seconds were filled with anxiety. What was I going to say? The door flew open and before me stood a familiar head of blonde hair. At one point in my life, Niall had been one of my absolute best friends. My heart constricted painfully when his face broke out into a huge grin.
"Harry! You came!" He pulled me in for a hug. I'd always been taller than him, but these days he'd grown a bit, just an inch or two shorter than me.
"Of course I did," my voice broke. He either didn't hear it, or chose to ignore it because he grabbed my arm, pulling me inside.
"They're all waiting for you inside." My hands started to shake. I couldn't do this. I couldn't face them. No, I couldn't face him.
I walked, legs wobbling the whole way into Zayn's living room. I was flooded with memories. Hanging here with the boys, laughing and watching TV. Ordering takeout and drinking and talking and being ourselves. What I would give to go back to those days.
Instead of four other boys sprawled on couches and chairs, three of them sat there, looking serious. And there was a girl. She was sitting next to him. Holding his hand. Whispering in his ear.
His brown eyes met mine. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.
"I thought this was a meeting for just the boys," I said coldly to Niall. He looked down guiltily.
When the girl heard my voice, she stood up and plastered a fake smile on her face. She extended her hand towards me. "Hi, I'm Ma-"
For the second time in my life, I turned my back on all of them and stormed away. I felt something fall out of my coat. I didn't care. I didn't fucking care about anything.
I reached blindly for the nearest door, desperate to get away. I wound up in a bathroom. Good enough. I locked the door and rested my shaking hands on the sink.
It was hard to see through my rage, but I looked at the boy in the mirror. I studied his eyes carefully. They looked cold and empty. But the longer you stared at them, the more you could see. You could see the pain, betrayal, loss, heartbreak. They were the eyes of someone who was broken.
And as if I wasn't already pathetic enough, I began to cry. I backed away from the mirror, sinking down to the floor.
I had worked so hard to hide my emotions; so well that sometimes even I doubted I could feel anything anymore.
My hands gripped my hair as my self loathing thoughts began. They had all moved on without me. I never realized how much I missed them until I stepped into that room. They were all there, together and I was the one stuck on the outside. It didn't matter what I said or did, they would still hate me. But not as much as I hated myself.
I just wanted to be home. I could go into my bathroom and shut the door. Grab the cool blade. Hiss as the cold metal kissed my skin. One or two swipes and I would be done. It hurt, but the pain felt good. It was an emotion I could control. My favorite part was watching in fascination as my life force dripped slowly down my hand.
A knock interrupted my thoughts. "Harry? Are you okay?" It was Louis. Oh god, Louis. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he would just go away. I had hurt him so much. "Please open the door!"
I crawled over, unlocking the door and I let him in. He used to be my best friend in the entire world. The one person I could trust with anything. In the end, he invested his faith in me and I had failed him.
I resumed my previous position, knees up and arms circled around them, trying to hold myself together. Louis fell beside me, pulling me into his arms.
"I don't know what to do, Louis. Tell me, what do I do?" I cried. I had gone so long without a comforting touch. The feeling of being in his arms made me feel so safe, so loved.
"I don't know, Haz. But I do know you need to come out and talk with us. Maya left." Lou rubbed my shoulder.
"Who is she?" I asked in a small voice.
"Just Liam's whore of the week. I told him not to bring her," Louis said, sounding pissed off. "Ever since you left, he's been fucking anything with a-" he stopped himself. "Sorry. I shouldn't have told you."
"No. It's really fine." I stood up. I could feel my heart hardening again. It was a good thing. My walls had temporarily fallen, but now they were being rebuilt in all their glory.
"Don't you fucking dare, Harry!" Louis suddenly yelled, jumping up. "I can see you, trying to put your mask back on and act like you don't care. Like nothing can hurt you. How do you think that makes me feel, Harry?" Louis begged. I said nothing. "You left us. All of us. Every single one of us was torn up about it, and you know it. Niall cried for days.
"Zayn stopped eating. Did you know that? I locked myself in my room for weeks, wondering what I did so wrong that made you leave. Did I not let go fast enough? Was it so wrong of me to still care about you? I didn't know.
"And Liam. Oh god, Liam. He was wrecked. He started drinking. A lot. His kidney couldn't keep up with him. Did you know that he almost died? After that he started doing drugs instead. We had his stomach pumped. Three times.
"His latest addiction? Sex. With whatever has a fucking pulse. He brought that girl here today to shove it in your face. I knew it the moment she stepped in the door. He wanted to hurt you like you hurt him."
By the time Louis finished, his face was red and tears were trailing down his cheeks. I stood there, saying nothing. I worked to keep a straight face.
"Say something!" Louis screamed. Silence. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Harry Styles. You've just pushed away the last person that loved you." And with that, he left.
I didn't know how long I stood there numbly. It felt like someone had injected Novocaine straight into my veins. My mind replayed each one of Louis words. Each word, each syllable was a knife to my heart.
Somehow, I walked to the door and opened it. In a haze, I headed towards the living room, but then stopped when I heard talking. No, not talking. It sounded like they were reading from something.
"...'I don't know what to do. I love him. I'll always love him. I'm just not in love with him anymore. How am I supposed to tell him that? How do I tell him I'm in love with someone else?'" Zayn read outloud. Then there was silence and a rustling of paper. "'March thirteenth. It's been a month since Louis and I ended. We still act like best mates, but when he thinks I'm not looking, I see his eyes and his pain. I've never felt so awful in my life. I've tried avoiding him, but when I do see him, his hurt is even more evident. I've taken to spending my time with Liam. We've grown so close. Is it wrong for me to be happy while I'm causing another so much pain? I don't know. I don't know.'"
There was silence. "I'm sorry, I can't read anymore," Zayn's voice sounded choked.
"'April second'," Niall picked up where Zayn left off. "'Louis knows about Liam. He walked in while we were together. We broke away quickly, but he'd seen enough. That night he came to talk to me. He told me it was okay, but I could see he'd been crying. I tried pulling him into a hug, but he pushed me away. His hands were shaking.'"
Nobody said anything. More rustling. "'April fifteenth. Liam is gone. He's no longer mine. I don't know what happened. One moment, we were perfect and the next, he didn't want me anymore. Did I do something wrong? Now I know how Louis feels. It's fucking excruciating, seeing him laugh and smile with everyone else, but he looks at me and it's gone. His smile is replaced with something else, an emotion I can't understand. Somewhere between anger and sympathy. I don't know what I did. Tonight, I'm going to try something new. I'd heard that when people cut themselves, it's supposed to focus your attention on physical pain rather than emotional pain. It's worth a try, right? I'll probably get too scared to do it anyways. We'll see...'"
"Oh god," I heard someone groan. "He...he didn't. Did he?"
"'April sixteenth. I did it. I cut myself for the first time last night. At first, it stung like a bitch and I wondered why the hell people would do it. But then, I felt a rush, like a kick of endorphin's releasing. I watched it for a while, then cleaned myself up. I covered my wrist with bracelets today. Nobody noticed. Then again, half of the band could hardly bear to look at me.'"
"That stupid ba-" someone said, but stopped as they let out a choking sob.
Niall's voice began again, shakier than before. "'May third. I want to leave. I don't know if I mean the band or this life, but I want out. I'm like poison. I hurt everything I touch. I know now that I should never be happy while making someone suffer. Karma doesn't like that. I made Zayn so angry today that he punched the wall. He broke his hand. I didn't even go with him to the hospital. I sat and stared at the hole for a few hours. Then I got up, went to my flat and went to sleep. I didn't really feel anything. Four out of five members of the band hate me. Niall's the only one who can put up with me, even then his patience is low. That kid has a heart of gold. I think I need to go.'"
"That was the last entry," Niall said quietly. I figured it was time for me to make my appearance. I stepped into the room and saw the tear stained faces of my once best friends.
"So, you guys read my journal, huh? There you are. The inner thoughts and secrets of Harry Styles," I joked bitterly. They all looked up at me in surprise.
"You stupid fucking asshole!" Liam roared. He hurled himself out of the couch and ran to me, tackling me to the floor. He got in one or two punches to my jaw before they pulled him off. I grinned as blood gushed from my nose. "What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't." And with that, I turned towards the front door, ignoring all of their pleas to stay. I was done here. As Louis had said, I'd finally pushed away everyone who loved me.
I left my car in the driveway and opted to walk on foot for a while. I walked down the sidewalk, in the park, downtown, everywhere, until my feet got tired. By this time, it had to be close to midnight. I didn't want to go home. They were all most likely waiting there for me anyways.
What was left for me here? I might have money and other worldly possesions, but what was really left for me here. My career was over. My band was broken. I'd lost everyone I'd ever cared about. What was left for me here?
I walked a few miles to my flat. Instead of heading inside, I went up the back which lead to the roof.
What was left for me here?
I climbed each rung of the latter, up, up, up. My shoes clanked against the metal as I pulled myself up.
What was left for me here?
I finally reached the top of the building. It overlooked the London skyline. It truly was beautiful. It looked as if every light in the city was on.
What was left for me here?
I observed for a few minutes. Despite my plan, I felt an odd sense of calm rush over me. I wasn't even scared.
What was left for me here?
Left. Right. Left. Right. I came closer to the edge. I spread my arms out like a bird ready for flight.
What was left for me here?
I took a deep breath and I really smiled, for the first time in months. I was ready.
What was left for me here?