Stories We've Already Told

Chapter 1

The song for this chapter is "revolution 1" by The Beatles

Harrys POV.

      They are cheering my name outside, they all cheer my name and I wish they didn't. They don't deserve my full name, they watch me brutally beat someone and praise the ground I walk on for it. I don't deserve their admiration, if that's what you would call it. My hands shake as the gloves are slipped onto them, and the sound of the rain pelting the small window of my makeshift dressing room drowns out the voices of my best friend trying to get me ready to fight. I can see the flashes of light, I can hear the rumbles that only mean one thing, tonight is a full storm and I am the tree waiting to get struck because I'm the biggest. I wish I could make myself smaller, I wish I could take it all back. All I have is wishes, and all I get is silence and storms that keep me up at night.

         "Harry. Earth to Harry." Zayn snaps his hands in front of my face and I focus back on the room surrounding me. "Are you sure you are good to do this man, you look like you've seen a ghost."

       "Yeah I've got it, don't worry." I respond, looking to the mirror to examine myself. I reach into my bag sitting on the table and pull out the crushed substance, pouring a line onto the surface. Once it is straight I pull a rolled twenty out of the bag and snort it quickly. Only Zayn knows about this problem and I would prefer to keep it that way. We all know the other guy won't get a hit in, nobody does against me and that is the real reason why people are cheering my name. I make half of my money off getting people one step closer to death but letting them live instead. I've never killed anyone like this, I never plan to, but on the other side of this door there are 300 people packed in the basement storage space praying the guy I am up against won't wake up the next day. But there are also about 4 people hoping it's me to go instead.

       The room shakes again, thunder booming through unfinished concrete walls, and my nerves are back. I don't care about the people watching me, I don't feel the pressure of the stares or the few people glaring at me praying on my downfall. But the second the thunder echoes in this room my shell will always crack. Kane plans the schedule for the fights beforehand, and while he doesn't technically run the organization, he funds most of it so he has total control. I've never heard him speak and I don't know his real name, but he is always in the crowd in a dark suit and sunglasses giving me a nod after I had a good match. I'll get messages with dates and times, and they always fall on a night with a storm. Even as the prized fighter who brings in most of the money, I know he secretly hopes I lose, and that is because every time I see the betting sheets, his name is written down on my opponent's side. It's never enough money to bankrupt him, always under a hundred, but if I lost just one match, he would be a billionaire.

       Zayn grabs me by the shoulders and forces me to sit down on the lumpy couch, handing me a water bottle before sitting on the other side.

       "Harry, you know they have backup fighters, all it takes in one call and you will be off the roster for the night." We both know he is chatting shit, and if I am taken off, I'll have someone at my door later 'for payback' as Kane says in a text after I'm nearly comatose on my kitchen floor.

     "Fuck off man I'm fine" I exclaim louder than i mean to, slinking away from the hand he placed on my shoulder. Louis will be coming in any minute to tell me I'm up, so for now I don't want to think about it. Revolution 1 by The Beatles plays over the loudspeaker, four minutes and fifteen seconds until I am opening those doors, four minutes and fifteen seconds until I slip into the facade of 'Harry Styles'.

       Louis opens the door and slips in, walking over to me and grabbing my face, moving my head left and right checking to make sure I'm ready. He's seen me do this for years now, he knows the look in my eyes I need to have before I go out there, and I know he sees it today when he gives me a light slap on my left cheek signaling I'm ready.