Symptomatic

6

It was midnight and Harry was exhausted. His eyelids were drooping and his brain begged to sleep, but there was still a swarm of fear that overtook his body, telling him that if he slept, he would only wake up feeling worse.

I don't want to wake up sick.

So Harry climbed out of bed and began to walk around the house, feverishly trying to distract himself from his racing heart and upset stomach. He hadn't been able to eat more than a couple bites of each meal (excluding breakfast, because that hadn't been possible since the funeral). The house got old after a few minutes, though, and Harry began to feel trapped. He felt as though he was suffocating in his own home, so he left without telling anyone.

He walked out the door and began to float through the neighbourhood, still in his pyjamas, nothing but his phone on him.

It was the first time Harry had truly observed what the city was like at night. He wasn't in an Uber, on the way back from filming, dead tired, eager to go to bed. He wasn't close to blackout drunk, unable to see nothing more than hazy lights and disfigured outlines.

He wasn't going anywhere in particular. He was just walking. It was peaceful in its own way, and he found himself on a bridge at some point, looking down at the gushing water of the river below and suddenly forgetting about the anxiety that, even hours before, had the ability to paralyse him. He had no fears left.

I already feel so sick, maybe I'll feel better if i just-

He shook his head, trying his best to ignore the thought before he even finished it. If Josh had seen him at that moment, could hear what he was thinking, he would have been horrified. Disappointed. So Harry walked away. He was already putting enough stress on his friends- he definitely didn't need to add this to their list of things to be worried about.

Long story short, Harry didn't sleep that night. He walked around the dark city, alone, probably in danger of being kidnapped or jumped, and slipped his phone out of his pocket, searching anxiety solutions on the internet. Lots of them stressed exercise as a distraction. Harry decided it was about time he tried to build back some of the muscle he lost since his unexpected drop in weight.

***

"How are you going to have any energy to work out with us if you haven't been eating?" Jj asked as he, Harry and Ethan stepped into the gym at noon.

"I have been eating." Harry lied, through his teeth, trying to reassure his friend. "And besides, I'm skinny as fuck now. I wanna get back to how I was before."

"How'd you even lose so much weight? I swear you were eating loads before."

Harry shrugged and said, "I guess it's just my metabolism or something, I don't know."

"Did you tell the doctor about that at your physical?" Ethan asked, looking concerned- more concerned than he should be, in Harry's opinion.

"Yeah, and she said it was just the busy schedule and, like, stress and stuff. It's not really much to worry about."

"How much do you weigh?" Harry shrugged and lied, saying, "I wasn't really paying attention. In the eighties, maybe?"

Harry made the horrible mistake of trying to lift a barbell. Both Jj and Ethan had done it, so Harry decided he wouldn't neglect his pride by sticking to body weight exercises and lighter weights. He had been able to lift a significant amount of weight not too long before- of course not anywhere as much as the other two, but still a lot for him and his 'natural farmer strength'. So, he decided to try it out.

"Here, let's start slow." Ethan said, sliding a couple of weights onto the bar as Harry laid down on the bench. The younger was already sweating all over- due to the past forty five minutes of exercise, and the air around him seemed almost thick with heat. It was difficult to breathe in such conditions.

Ethan guided Harry's hands as he lifted the bar from its stand, holding it above his head and slowly lowering it down. It was very heavy, and he was very weak. He could feel his biceps shaking, and the joints in his elbows and shoulders seemed almost strained.

How could he possibly be so out of shape? How was this so difficult, when he used to be able to do it all perfectly fine?

It all began to crumble as the sweat on Harry's palms grew more and more slippery as his hands trembled. He couldn't hold his wrists straight, and his elbows were locked. Harry didn't want to acknowledge it, but he couldn't hold it up anymore. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn't keep a single muscle in his body steady.

The heavy bar slipped from his unsteady wrists, close to falling down and crushing his chest and ribs. Luckily, a pair of strong arms shot forward, catching the bar awkwardly before it could cause Harry any harm.

"Harry," Jj said, sounding overly exasperated. "Fuck man, that could have really hurt you."

"Sorry, sorry." Harry muttered, sitting up. His vision darkened as he got another head rush. "My hands were all sweaty, it slipped."

"Okay, you're done. No more weights."

"What happened?" Ethan asked, approaching the two of them. He had his sleeves rolled up to the shoulders, revealing muscular arms, and Harry couldn't help but feel jealous. He felt so pathetic in their presence- like their little brother that they were forced to bring along. They had to baby sit him to make sure he didn't get hurt.

"Harry dropped the bar. If I hadn't caught it in time, he would've been crushed." Jj explained. "I told him no more weights today."

"Fuck Harry, that's dangerous." Ethan said, eyes slightly wide. "Why don't you go use one of the machines or something."

Harry nodded, looking down at his shoes. He could no longer conceal his shaking hands and knees. His skin was so sweaty it shone under the fluorescent lights of the gym, and his hair was dripping. How hot was it in here? It felt like a summer day in Spain, or LA. His calves twitched in pain and his thighs felt as if just standing up, and taking a few steps, would cause them to give out.

"Are you alright, Bogger?" Ethan asked, waving his hand in front of Harry's face. The younger looked up, breaking from his haze of confusion and exhaustion, and met Ethan's gaze.

"Yeah, it's just really hot in here." Harry said, wiping away a bead of sweat from his eyebrow before it dropped down into his eye.

"How are you sweating so much?" Jj asked, pressing a hand to his own forehead. "It's really not that hot in here."

"Go have a drink and cool down." Ethan said rather sternly, pointing to where their three water bottles stood near the wall.

"You don't have to baby me." Harry grumbled, keeping his voice so low and muffled that his words were almost inaudible.

"And you don't have to talk back to me. Go rest for a little while, we'll be done soon."

Harry walked over to the water bottles, grabbing his, and went back into the locker room, sitting down by their shared locker. He leaned back, feeling as though his body was both dead and hyperactive at the same time. He could feel all of his organs moving so quickly- his heart beating so quickly, but his muscles didn't want to obey him. He couldn't stop sweating, regardless of how much he fanned himself. The hot air felt like duct tape over his nose and mouth, blocking the flow of oxygen into his body. He felt so disgusting.