Louis knocked on the door to the councillor's office, putting a smile on his face.
"Hello, can I help you?" A kind looking woman opened the door.
"Is Harry here?"
"Yes he is, follow me." She beckoned, walking through the hallway and stopping at a door, knocking before opening it. "Harry, someone's here to see you."
Harry looked away from Niall, fear filling his eyes at the sight of Louis. "Can I come in?"
"Are you going to be a dick?" Niall raised his eyebrows.
"No." Louis huffed, "anyway, I'm here to talk to Harry not you."
"Charming." Niall muttered. "I'll wait outside then."
"My mum wants you to come over for dinner."
"Oh, um...that's very kind but um, I don't know...sorry..." He stuttered out, shrinking into himself.
"Why not?"
"Um, I just, I don't know if I'll be able to..."
"Come on. It'll be fine. Mum insists."
"Um, okay...does she know?"
Louis grimaced, nodding his head.
"Oh, shit. This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't?"
"Me to still be alive and for people to know. Well, I expected people to find out but I didn't want to be here for it." He rambled.
"Oh. Why'd you do it?"
"Don't wanna talk about it. It's fuckin' embarrassing."
"Well, I'll see you at mine tonight then. Come over at 5."
"O-okay. Um, I kinda don't have any shoes other than slippers to wear though...they took away my shoe laces and hoodie strings and stuff."
"Why the fuck would they do that?"
"So I don't try and strangle myself or something. I wouldn't have even thought about doing it like that. I just wanted to tell you so you didn't think it was weird or anything."
"Nah, don't worry. Just wear whatever. I'll see you later." Louis stood up, waving to him as he left the room.
"What did he want?" Niall re-entered, falling back into his chair.
"His mum invited me over."
"Weird." He raised his eyebrows.
"No, she's really nice." Harry sighed, "'m just scared. I don't like the fact that people know how I'm feeling...it's scary."
Niall gave Harry a sympathetic look. "People do care about you you know."
"You're literally the only person I've talked to in this school." Harry mumbled, "and I barely talk to you. How can you say people care about me? They all think I'm some sort of freak." Harry said.
"Yeah but what proof do they have behind that? 'Oh he painted his nails in year 7 and 8 and part of 9 and he's gay', so what?"
"You remember that I used to paint my nails?" Harry flushed.
"Duh. I thought it was sick. Why did you stop?"
"Everyone bullied me for it and my uncle didn't approve." He murmured, "when my mum died I stopped painting them because she was the only one who encouraged me and supported me with being myself."
"Well I think it was cool."
"Thanks." Harry blushed again.
//
"Deep breaths Harry, deep fucking breaths." He muttered to himself as he stood in front of the Tomlinson's door. He raised a fist, knocking on the wooden door quietly.
He kept his head down, looking up through his eyelashes as the door opened.
"Alright? Come in." Louis stood back, allowing Harry to walk past. He slipped off his shoes before following Louis into the kitchen gingerly. "Mum, Harry's here."
"Oh, Harry! Hi darling." She moved to hug him, he tensed up but quickly forced himself to relax.
"Hi." He replied quietly.
"Louis, why don't you go and see Phoebe and Daisy?" Jay shooed him away. Louis took the hint, nodding and leaving the pair alone. "Sit down Harry."
He did as he was told, looking at her nervously.
"I heard about what happened. How are you?"
In reality, he was no better than before, probably worse to be honest, but this wasn't reality. This was his life, he could make up anything he wanted.
"I'm good." He tried to smile convincingly, only to look as if he was in pain.
"No you're not." That was the thing about making stuff up. It may be what they want to hear, but it doesn't mean people will always believe it. "You're not good, and that's alright."
"I am." He squeaked, "I'm fine. Really."
"I hope you know I don't believe you. Are you seeing a therapist?"
"Um, I was when I was...away...but now only once a week just to see my 'progress' for another 3 weeks. Can't afford one." He admitted quietly.
"Doesn't your uncle think that it's important?"
Harry shook his head, "no. And even if he did there's no way to afford it."
"I think this is something you need Harry." She frowned, "I'll be happy to help pay for it."
"No." Harry said firmly, "no way. I couldn't let you."
"Sweetheart, you're obviously not in a good place. I don't want you to attempt again."
He looked to the ground, gulping. "But what if I don't want to be here?" He said, almost too quietly to be heard.
"Tell me why."
"I don't wanna talk about myself. Makes me uncomfortable."
"I promise I won't tell anyone anything. Not a word to anyone, not even Lou."
"Okay..." Harry took a deep breath. "B-but there's stuff I can't tell you because I didn't say it to anyone in the hospital or my therapist or anything."
"Why not? You should've. They're here to help you."
"Because they'd make it a bigger deal than it is. And it would all be a mess."
"You should tell them everything love."
He shrugged, "maybe."
"Tell me what you can now then."
Harry took a shaky breath in, "I-I've got anxiety and depression...and I, um, nobody likes me at school. And this is one of the things I didn't say, but we have problems with money."
"Why don't people like you honey? You're a sweet boy."
"I don't know...I'm gay and I don't talk and I don't know. They say I'm ugly and annoying and worthless and a freak." He mumbled, flushing at the fact that someone else knew. "And they used to hurt me."
"So they don't anymore?"
"No, not anymore. They trip me up and stuff but they don't beat my up."
"Have you told any teachers about any of this?"
"They don't care. They see it but they don't say anything."
"Pardon my french but what a load of bollocks. Tell me about your money problems."
"Um, my uncle doesn't work and I had to work two jobs but we were still poor, and then I lost one of my jobs and it was even worse and I don't know..."
"I'll happily help you out whenever you need it."
"Thank you but I can't. I'll feel awful."
"You mustn't."
"Mummy! I'm hungry." Phoebe whined, walking into the kitchen.
"Sorry mum, I tried to stop her but Daisy attacked me." Louis ran in, Daisy slung over his shoulder as she giggled.
"It's alright love. Dinner's ready now anyway."
"Oh thank god, these two wouldn't shut up-"
"Louis." Jay scolded, raising her eyebrows.
"Sorry," he huffed, "these two wouldn't ummm, they wouldn't be quiet?" Louis struggled to find a nicer way to say it, his mum with an amused look on her face.
"That'll do. Go and lay the table."
"Alright. C'mon munchkins, you can help me. You can grab the forks Dais, and you get the knives Phoebe." He told them as they opened the drawer. "That's it, 7 of each." He reached out, taking their free hands and leading them to the dining room table.
Harry let a small smile appear on his face as he watched the interaction.
"He's a wonderful big brother, isn't he." Jay beamed proudly. "They absolute adore him."
Harry nodded, "he is."
"You should go and sit down, I'll call the other girls in and I'll dish the food out."
"Okay." Harry nodded, plodding into the dining room. "Um, where should I sit?"
"Do you wanna sit here? The twins will have a fit if you sit in their chairs. Oh, and by the way, Fizzy will probably sit next to you. She has a massive crush on you."
"I'm honoured." Harry let out a small giggle, scraping out the chair and sitting down.
"You should be. She doesn't take a liking to many people."
Harry gave him another small smile as Louis sat at the end of the table, next to him.