Secrets | Harry Styles

Chapter 4

Hell raising, hair raising
I'm ready for the worst
So frightening, face whitening
Fear that you can't reverse

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I woke up at 11:47 am with a throbbing headache, the remnants of a wild night out. The realization hit me – I was still in my pajamas. Did Kelly change my clothes? I distinctly remember falling asleep in the dress from the previous night.

My hazy mind avoided scrutinizing the details; my only concern was locating my phone. Panic set in when I couldn't find it – please don't tell me I left it at the club.

"Kelly!" My voice cracked as I struggled out of bed.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she greeted me with a wide smile.

"Kelly, please tell me you have my phone." Worry etched my face as I rubbed my temples.

"Sorry, hun. Maybe you left it at the club? In the toilet?" She chewed on her lip, lost in thought.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need to go there, maybe someone found it." Anxiety gnawed at me, and I scanned the room, desperate for a sign of my missing lifeline.

"Relax, babe. We'll find it. Come eat some breakfast, and then we'll go down there, okay?" She cleared her throat, her concern evident.

I reluctantly nodded.

Panic seized me, but I couldn't let Kelly see it. I excused myself to calm down. "You know what? I'm not even hungry. What about I make a shower, get ready, and then we go down there?" My haunted eyes avoided hers.

"Sure, but first, are you okay? You don't even make eye contact with me." Worry etched her expression.

"I-I'm fine, really. I just need a good shower." I lied, hands trembling.

"No, Hailey, stop lying. You're literally shaking right now. Please tell me; I want to help you." She saw through my facade.

"Kelly, please..." My chest tightened, breathing accelerating. "I-I can't breathe; I'm having a panic attack."

As panic consumed me, Kelly swiftly took control. "Hey, look at me. Sit on the couch; I'll grab cold water and a paper bag. You'll breathe into the bag, it helps." Her calm instructions pierced through the chaos.

I nodded, collapsing onto the couch. Kelly fetched water and a paper bag, guiding me through the process. The cold water and controlled breathing gradually anchored me in the present.

"Are you better?" Her worried eyes searched mine.

I nodded tiredly. "Yes, thank you, Kelly, for being here. I'm sorry you had to see me like this; I never wanted anyone to see me like this."

"How long have you been having them? I feel like this isn't your first." Her concern deepened.

"Since summer, when my father hit me." Tears welled up as I shared a painful truth.

"Oh, Hailey... why didn't you tell me?" Sympathy laced her words.

The question I feared dropped, and I hesitated before responding. "I was scared, felt misunderstood. Honestly, I felt trapped inside. I thought if I told someone, nobody would get me. I was afraid. I'm sorry, Kelly; you're my best friend, I should have told you."

"Hailey, never be scared to tell me anything. I will always support you, no matter what. I understand everything you're going through; I would never judge you for anything, honey." She offered a weak smile.

"I know. I'm sorry." I bit my lip.

"It's okay; I understand why you didn't tell me. It's a complicated feeling. Never go through this alone. Promise when you have one again, you'll come to me?"

"I promise."

---

By 2:27 pm, my gratitude for Kelly's support lingered. I reflected on the morning, regretting exposing my vulnerability. I appreciated Kelly's unwavering friendship, a rare source of solace in my tumultuous world. Memories of my panic attack faded as the pressing concern shifted to finding my phone.

I felt remorse for not being able to shield Kelly from the darker facets of my struggles. It wasn't pretty, and I doubted my ability to maintain composure in front of others.

As we prepared to revisit the club, Kelly's attentiveness persisted. I couldn't shake the internal battle between illusion and reality, a struggle that intensified after my tumultuous summer.

Our arrival at the club triggered memories of the previous night, especially the encounter with Harry. I grappled with the aftermath, uncertain of how to face him in our upcoming class. The fear he instilled echoed my past, merging with the trauma inflicted by my father.

In the cab, Kelly sensed my internal turmoil. "Are you okay? You didn't say anything all trip."

"I'm fine, just lost in my thoughts." My response lacked urgency, and I deflected further discussion.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not today, okay? I don't want to feel bad about myself."

Her understanding nod reassured me. "Okay, baby girl, I'm always here for you. Now, come on, we're here. Let's go."

The club's familiar sign, 'Dolor,' greeted us. A stern security guard initially blocked our entry, citing the club's closure until eleven. Panic crept in, but Kelly adeptly persuaded him to allow us a quick retrieval of my phone.

Unexpectedly, a British-accented voice intervened. "It's okay, mate. Let them in; I know them. Don't worry about it."

To my dismay, Harry stood there, the last person I wanted to encounter. Politeness masked his underlying tension, and I reluctantly thanked him as he handed over my phone.

"Can I talk to you?" His request for privacy hung in the air, prompting Kelly's concerned glance.

She whispered in my ear, "It's okay, honey. Go; I'll be right here. If something happens, shout for help. You know our secret safe word."

The word 'peach' lingered in the air, a reminder of our shared history. I reluctantly followed Harry, wondering what he wanted.

---

The encounter with Harry in the club stirred a mix of emotions. His presence, coupled with the memories of our shared kiss, left me conflicted. As he led me to a private area for a conversation, my mind raced with questions.

"I think I left my phone last night here, not sure. Because I can't remember the half night." I fabricated a story, choosing not to reveal my vivid recollection of the previous night.

"Let's go look then." Harry's clipped tone hinted at an underlying tension.

Inside the bar, he rummaged through the area behind it, retrieving my phone. As he approached me with a smirk, I couldn't ignore the unspoken tension between us.

"Thank you," I mumbled, avoiding prolonged eye contact.

"Can I talk to you?" His request for privacy raised my guard.

I looked back at Kelly, who nodded reassuringly. Reluctantly, I agreed to a private conversation with Harry.

I wondered what he wanted and whether confronting him about the cryptic words he uttered during our intimate moment was worth the risk.