Human [Harry Styles]

Chapter Twenty-One.

Dedication: This one goes to @xShannonNicolex for her increadibly kind comment on the last chapter! To be honest, I'm not sure how long she's been reading my stuff, but however long, she's been lovely! She seems very thoughtful through her comments, really digging deep into this story, which I, as the author, really appreciate. So thank you so much! :) 

Harry

            The only thought really going through my head right now is how much it hurts, that is, my head. Physically, I feel like I can barely think straight with this pain, not like I would know what “thinking straight” even is anymore.

             I think it’s been about five days since Marley and I stopped contacting each other – not that I’m counting. Part of me feels really dull because of that, like my purpose in life has been demoted a bit.

            Before, I was that it-factor for her that helped her get over everything else bad in her life, and she was mine. We were actually okay for a little while, and now we both are left without it all over again.

            So, as I’m sure it’s obvious, I’m uncertain. I feel like I made a mistake to listen to everyone and dump my friendship with Marley for all this. Then again, I’ve saved the boys and their families a lot of trouble, as well as our management team – though I admittedly don’t care quite as much about the latter.

            So since nearly everyone seems to have a bit of bias for either side and I feel like I’ve got no one left to go to, there’s only one person I think of to ask. They’ve always been there for me and always helped me set myself straight when I’ve drifted, even when I really don’t deserve it.

            In the privacy of my flat, I take out my mobile and dial the number of a person I think I’ve actually forgotten a bit throughout all this. I’m certainly shamed to admit it, but better late than never, right? 

            I listen to the phone ring for what feels like eternity, but is only about three times. I’m even beginning to wonder if I’m being ignored, shunned perhaps, for forgetting to call and getting wrapped up in what could easily be viewed as the wrong things.

            Thank God I’m wrong though.

            Half way through the fourth ring, a voice suddenly replaces the sound, a bit worn and weary. “Hello?”

            I smile a bit, though sadly. She really does sound tired, and I’m already feeling guilty that I haven’t been around lately to actually talk to her. “Hi Mum. How’ve you been?”

            “Oh Harry,” she sounds a bit surprised, if not pleased as well. “I’ve been well, thanks. How about you?”

            I nod, focusing on her voice and soaking in the familiarity of home. “The same,” I say. “Well, relatively speaking.”

            When Mum speaks next I can practically hear the frown on her face, paired right with the worry in her voice. “What is it you’re not telling me?” She asks instantly. “Has something happened?”

            How am I supposed to tell her about all this? My Mum has always been wise – at least to me, but then again, I’m her son – and nonjudgmental. Still though, I’m kind of nervous to tell her everything that’s been going on. What if she’s ashamed of me? What if she’s disappointed that this is why I haven’t talked to her in so long?