5 years too late [L.S]

1

Note:
- mainly Harry's point of view
- it's all fiction so chill out
- using this as a distraction from my own life
- TW: self harm, suicidal thoughts, may be some smut. Not so nice language. Not sure what else. Expect for missing 1D
- English is not my first language, but don't let this discourage you, the autocorrect should work just fine, if something is wrong, we blame it on the autocorrect and not me
- enjoy

Harry

I sit at my kitchen table looking at my phone ringing, ringing and ringing. It just won't stop. As if the gods hear me, it momentarily stops for a few seconds, I let out a deep sight, close my eyes, and chug down the last of my drink, enjoying the burning sensation it brings while slowly making its way through my throat down to my stomach. Just as I open my eyes again my phone screen lights up and starts ringing again for the fifth time in the last 5 minutes. Simon. I stare at it for a few seconds before pushing down the green button and not giving him a second to start a conversation.

"What?" I snap at him, the irritation in my voice clear as the day

"Well hello to you to Harry", Simon seems surprised by my tone, concidering that the last time we talked I was hugging and kissing him goodbye, but he doesn't seem bothered. "I called five times Harry, five, and i know for a fact that you are at home, what's up?" Well, I have not event told the other boys what's up, not even Niall, why the hell would I tell him.

"Nothing, what do you want" I snap once again, wanting the phone call to end as fast as possible, I still have a beer in my fridge calling my name.

"uhh, sure, let's cut the small talk, i suppose you haven't talked to the other boys then?" He stops for a second, as I would answer, well the answer is no, haven't talked to them in a long time, some for 5 years, other ones on a occasional 'congratz on the album' 'Thanks', and that is it. I don't answer Simon and just wait for him to continue, he gets the hint and starts explaining.

"Well, you see, uhh, it's been a while since one direction went on a 18 month break, I know it was your request to take it and therefore you may not like this but... uhh.. " I get tiered of his voice deciding to end his suffering, already sensing where this is heading, not being able to wait for his long ass answer i decide to speak up "For fuck sake, spit it out " He stops breathing for a couple seconds, and i know. I know what he wants. I'm just not ready to feel anything just yet so I swallow the lump in my throat down just as he starts speaking.

"One direction is making a big ass reunion and we can not do it without the Harry Styles, there is no denying that you are the star of the band considering your grammy and the success Fine Line got ... Harry the fans love you, your band mates love you, I love you and I just hope this can go smooth, I know you and Louis ha-" hearing his name still makes my heart bounce out of my chest for multiple reasons, but i can not, for the love of god, hear one more 'you guys hit a bump on the road, it will be fine' so i cut him off again with a simple "Fine, message me the deatails" This obviously took him by surprise as he freezes for what feels like hours before responding with a high pitch voice, full of excitement, which is not something you often hear from the Simon Cowell, it almost made me laugh. Almost. "GREAT, uhh.. yeah... I will message you all the details right after this call, uhh, the boys will be so happy, we never hear from you and yeah this will be great, you will not regret this, I promise i will makes sure that L-" I cut him off for the third time "Key, bye"

As I put the phone down, I finally let out the breath I was subconsciously holding for the majority of the conversation, if you can even call it that. I begin feeling the panic taking over again, thoughts running through my head at record speed. My head is spinning and my breaths become faster and shorter. Panic. I just now realized what is happening. I slowly stand up from the chair, trying to hold on to the counter. I try my best making my way to the bathroom knowing that a panic attack, mixed with alcohol, isn't going to end well. I stumble my way to the bathroom, knocking the bottle of vodka down, trying not to fall over. I can not see straight. The alcohol making me loose balance, the shallow breaths making me dizzy and the pain in my foot, from stepping on the shattered bottle of vodka on the floor, making me limp. Just as I put my head over the toilet seat, I feel my food from earlier making its way up, as I empty my stomach. I sit with my head over the toilet seat for a few more minutes, puking a couple more times.