Haunted (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 4

Harry's POV

I woke up with a slight headache. I had gone out last night with the full intention of getting deleriously drunk.

But after a few beers, I just didn't want to be at the club anymore. Fans and sluts were cooing over me and I was sick of the attention, so I came back.

The sight of the boys huddled together made me feel guilty. I saw the tear tracks on Zayn's face and how hard Louis and Niall were crying. I knew it was my fault.

But still, a spark of jealousy had rose in my stomach upon seeing Louis curled up on Liam's lap.

I sat up and rubbed my temples.

I remembered blabbering on about Louis to Liam, which I tended to do when I got drunk.

But when Liam had snapped at me...that had been unexpected. He had gotten angry at Louis before, but that was really the only time I'd seen him lose his temper.

And last night...maybe he'd finally gotten sick and tired of my constant complaints. He knew I couldn't do anything about my love for Louis. If I did, it could tear the band completely apart.

But I felt horrible.

I hadn't really given any thought about how my depression affected the rest of the band. What if our careers were slowly sinking because of me?

I'd seen the numerous articles regarding my sudden change. I'd even seen one claiming that this was a publicity stunt. That one had gotten me seriously pissed off, and judging from the angry comments, the fans did not approve of the article either.

But maybe once the media died down and got used to my new self, maybe then One Direction would have a bad image.

We had been loved as five energetic, personable young guys who were pretty attractive. And now because of me, everyone was stressed and not nearly as fun and happy to be around. And calling my underweight, sickly self attractive was nowhere close to being accurate.

Maybe I could change. I didn't have the strength to stop loving Louis, but maybe I could make it seem like I had.

I could try and stop cutting. If I couldn't, I'd hide them better so the boys wouldn't see. That way they would be at peace thinking that I had stopped.

I could try to eat more and gain back a little weight. If I had to physically force myself to eat, then I would.

I'd take the sleeping pills every night instead of just occasionally.

I'd work on improving a fake smile for the cameras.

Maybe I'd go somewhere warm on our time off and quit being so pale.

I'd quit reading those stupid fanfictions and watching videos that only got my hopes up that maybe there was a chance that Louis felt the same way.

This could work. It would also get Liam and the other boys to settle down and quit wasting time worrying about me.

Sure, it would be hard, but I'd do it for the boys. I wouldn't let myself be the downfall of the group.

I wandered out of my room and found three sleeping boys sprawled out around the living room.

"We were to tired to leave."

I jumped as I realized Liam was standing next to me.

"Look mate, I'm really sorry about snapping at you last night. It was uncalled for," he apologized.

"No, you had every right. I haven't been thinking about you guys; I've been selfish," I sighed, "But I'm going to try to get better. I really am this time. On my own, no rehab or therapy. That just made everything worse."