27 (Harry Styles)

008. FOLDED FIVE TIMES

I woke up in my room, my clothes from yesterday still on. I saw two empty bottles of water lying on the side of my hotel bed and my laptop battery nearly drained. I glanced at the digital clock placed on the bedside table, it says 11:51 A.M. Beside the clock is my phone. I opened my screen and there were a lot of missed calls and text from Maggie.

Then, I remember what happened last night. I remembered the fucking asshole of a man from last night. My feelings haven't changed, I still want to punch his face and make sure every part of his face is bleeding and in sheer and utter pain. He hurt Maggie, and I felt like a piece of shit because I couldn't even protect her from some creep in a place I knew so well. I remember back then when I would get really mad. Maggie always gets scared at times when I get angry so I've learned how to deal with it because I just couldn't have her scared of me, it's the last thing I'd ever want.

I looked at my jacket that laid on the floor, then thought more about what happened last night. I never actually did find out why Maggie was crying. I quickly got out of bed and snatched the jacket off of the floor, shaking the pockets frantically.

A small piece of tattered paper fell out, and I quickly swept it up and sat back in the bed. It was folded five times, like Maggie always folded the letters she sent me while I was away. I carefully opened the letter, instantly recognizing her neat hand writing.

Harry,

I'm not sure why I'm writing this, because I know you'll never see it. You've just left England, probably for good. I miss you a lot already, but I also know this is a great opportunity. Besides, maybe I can actually talk to your mother without you interrupting me.

School won't be the same without you and your horrible dad jokes. Emphasis on horrible. I've been doing a lot of thinking recently and I've come to realize something my own mother told me quite a long time ago, before she left as well. "Not everything that comes back to you is meant for you. Sometimes, things come back as a reminder of just how good you are without them."

It got me thinking a lot. Maybe you're just better off getting out of here. For fucks sake, if I had an opportunity like yours, I'd take it. Anyways, my tears are making the ink bleed now so I think that means I'm done.

With love, always,

Mags.

I felt my eyes begin to tear up as I read the last lines of the letter, throwing it beside me. I flopped my back onto the bed and simply stared up at the ceiling. I had an awful feeling in my throat; a feeling of pressure. It was the horrible feeling you get when you're trying not to cry, and your whole upper half becomes sore because you are trying to hard to not let anyone see you in pain.

Or, yourself. Because once you've accepted something, you then have to deal with it. I wasn't ready to deal with any of my bullshit yet, because I knew I messed up. I pushed away the only people that cared about me, but yet I was given a second chance to make amends and fix things.

I read her last text and it says it was sent at 11:45, just minutes away from now.

harry, pls reply. i'm worried sick about you, okay? i don't care if you're sleeping in, we're going out today and if you don't answer in the next fifteen minutes i'm coming to get your ass out of bed.

I went for a quick shower and dressed myself up before getting the things that I needed before heading over to Maggie's hotel. I had to be quick because I know she'd keep her promise of coming to get me. I arrived only a few minutes later, then I parked my car and headed over to the side entrance. There were a lot of fans who were in front and immediately screamed once they saw me, but I just waved a quick hello to them before entering the hotel.

I went inside the elevator and pressed the key to her floor and ran my way towards her door. I pressed knocked my fist against the wood and seconds later, she opened the door. "Harry!" She greeted me as if she wasn't expecting my arrival. She had one shoe on, the other laying untied beside her foot. If there was one thing that girl was good at, it was keeping a promise. "Someone must be really eager to see me, huh?" I grinned and walked past her as she rolled her eyes.

"God, don't get an ego. Most of us start our day at seven or eight like normal people, Harold." She replied and took a running leap onto the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. "Well you should know by now that it's too early for me. Besides, someone had me up at four in the morning demanding food." I sat on the bed beside her as she began to yell something along the lines of 'that's not true!'

Nonetheless, she still looked happy. She immediately hugged my back, her sweet scent wafting into my nose. "I was worried sick about you." She said in her little accent. "Sorry about last night, really. I don't do well when people I care about get hurt. I was so .. fucking angry and there wasn't a reason for you to see that side of me. Sorry. Again." I said, and she plopped down beside me and hugged me tightly.

"It's alright, just stop leaving at random times. I'm only here for a few more days." She giggled and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Her room service order came in a few moments later, and she had already ordered my favorite breakfast for me. "How'd you know I'd show up?" I asked with furrowed brows as she poured us each a glass of orange juice.

"I dunno. You're predictable." She replied nonchalantly and popped a strawberry into her mouth with a small smirk. We talked about random things and it was like we picked up exactly where we left all the way back in 2010. She was laughing about some joke Bella had told her the previous night. "Well, okay. I bet my jokes are better anyways." I told her and lift an eyebrow, trying to look like a douche bag and make her smile.

"Now you've just got an ego." She replied and threw a small piece of a strawberry at me but I caught it with my mouth. I heard her mumble a soft 'whatever' as I looked around her room. It was quite messy, actually. Makeup and pairs of heels were thrown across the room, along with pillows spread across the floor because she had to sleep with exactly three pillows in the bed at all times.

"What's that?" I asked and pointed to a tattered shoe box that sat on a television stand. Maggie's eyes grew darker as she gave me a death stare, swallowing her last bit of juice. "Some shoes I bought the other day." She lied. "In a box like that? For fucks sake, whats with all of this lying recently?!" I asked and threw my hands up into the air.

Before she could stop me, I got up from the bed and walked over to the shoe box. I looked over my shoulder with a sheepish grin. All Maggie could do was simply watch me. I opened the lid of the shoebox and examined the multiple stacks of folded up paper and envelopes inside. I squinted my eyes more as I sifted through the box.

None of it seemed importantly, really. I was more confused as why she brought a giant box of letters to London for a concert. Besides, some of this stuff seemed to be at least ten years old — maybe more.

Something more solid was at the bottom, I could feel it. I looked back at Maggie who's cheeks were glowing red as she avoided eye contact with me and ate her breakfast.I moved away two giant stacks of tattered letters and notes, then I saw the thing lying underneath. A brown cardboard corner peaked out, making me even more confused.

Carefully, I pulled it out and for a split second, Maggie and I locked eye contact. "Mags, I know you're really strange," I began to say.

"But for fucks sake, why are you hoarding a pizza box?"

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