achromatopsia | larry

one

harry styles loved clothes. ever since he was a young boy he had a certain admiration for the rows of garments hanging in shops. he remembers going shopping with him mum, tracing his hand along each and every bit of fabric, in awe of the way the wool would be intertwined, or the way the thread held each bit of fabric together. harry styles loved clothes.

each morning before playschool, harry would run over to his wardrobe, ever so carefully selecting his outfit. his favorite was a crew neck sweater which had a chic in an eggshell stitched on the front, with bold lettering saying mon petit across the shell. harry didn't know what mon petit meant. his mum told him it was french for 'my little.' harry thought that was nice.

his second favorite jumper was a long-sleeved cotton jumper that had a large donald duck patch sewn on the front. harry loved disney so he was over the moon when he received the jumper for christmas.

harry wore his clothes with pride. each outfit having hours of thought behind them, every little detail fine tuned so it was just right. each crease was straightened and each lose stitch would be repaired. harry styles loved clothes. harry styles loved his clothes.

but the other kids didn't.

each morning harry would walk through the doors of his playschool, grasping the strap of his schoolbag, with a grin on his face. playschool was fun. you could colour, play with toys and play with your friends. that's what harry was told by his mum anne every night during the lead-up to him starting school before he went to bed. harry was the nervous type so a little reassurance went a long way. clothes were harry's security blanket. he didn't have much to be proud of so his outfits were his pride and joy. school was meant to be fun. but it wasn't.

the kids would point at harry, laughing and whispering to their friends. harry didn't know why. was it something on his face? was there something funny behind him? harry was confused as to why the children were laughing. 

as time passed harry got used to the laughing, the crying himself to sleep in his mothers arms eventually stopped as he grew older and tougher. his best friend arabella always awed over and complimented harry on his outfits. she called harry 'the brightest star in the class.'  that made harry happy.

after a lot of nudging, arabella finally told harry why the children would laugh and point. "they think your clothes are too bright, but that's just silly, you're clothes are amazing." harry was confused. how whee his clothes too bright? harry knew the sun was bright and you were not meant to stare at it for too long otherwise your eyes would go fuzzy. but that didn't happen with harry's clothes. they weren't 'bright.' they were all the same colour, just different shades, very similar to all the other children. so why were they laughing if harry's clothes were the same colour? harry told arabella all of this, to which he received a confused look but as ever arabella just giggled and carried on telling harry stories.

after months of confusion and many doctor appointments they finally discovered harry had a rare condition known as achromatopsia. it meant he couldn't see colour - only black, white, and grey. it took a while for harry to understand, he saw the world differently from everybody else. 

once the other children found out, some had questions, some were confused while others were just mean. they would call harry 'broken' or a 'freak'. this made harry sad.

the day harry found out, his world got a little duller.

-

twenty years later and the world was still the same to harry. the same three colours. the same dull world. he had gotten used to living with achromatopsia, after all, he never knew any different to begin with. he stilled loved clothes and arabella was still there to offer him compliments and give fashion advice . harry loved arabella. 

harry was quite content living his black and white life. he had a boring but well-paying job in the city, a flat with his best friend and lead an overall average life. it was fine. 

harry would have easily continued this life path. and he probably would've if it wasn't for a phone call he received one tuesday afternoon in may. a phone call that would derail everything harry had been used to for the last twenty four years. a phone call that would lead him to meet an aspiring optical scientist studying at kings college named louis tomlinson.