rain. |h.s|

15

[June 2nd, 2019]

My head is pounding. Why the fuck is he being like this?

"How do you not understand that school is stressing you out way too much Noelle? It's pushing the limit." George's eyes are tearing up.

"Again this! Boundaries George! I get your concern, but after three years, you should know that I know how to take care of myself." I stand in his living room, almost bursting out crying myself.

He's been obsessing over how I don't know my own limit or how it's my fault some waiter was flirting with me because I was 'leading him on.' George has turned into this completely different person these past few months. I've asked him if anything's wrong and tried to talk it through multiple times, but he's just switched entirely.

"Yeah whatever. You and that fucking waiter can go do whatever you want."

"Are you really still stuck on this? I can't believe you," I knit my fingers in my hair. Which is when my mind finally sees a clear path. "I'm done. We're done."

I pick up my purse and start heading for the door. As soon as George registers what I just said, his head shoots in my direction and he starts running to block the door.

"No, no, Noelle. Don't walk away please. I'm sorry, can we please talk about this? Don't leave me, I love you."

I'm sweating, I have to get away from here. Not like George is very hard to push away, he's only a couple inches taller than me. But I've had it. I'm sick of this shit. I've been putting up with all that for months. And I'm officially done. He's been stuck up and selfish, which is not the George I fell in love with.

I shove past him with my eyebrows still slightly angled towards each other and my lips sealed. I unlock my car, and drive away as fast as I can. I can see him in the mirror watching me drive off. I don't want to see his fake apologetic face for at least a week. I'm done. I'm free. It's almost time for colleges to start up again, so I've been focusing on getting back in gear, and all he can think about is how the fucking waiter was flirting with me last weekend. In my defense, that child literally tried and gave up after five minutes after he realized George was my boyfriend and I'm 21. I'm pretty sure that kid was like 15 or 16. You would think after three god damn years, he would trust me. But no, he was acting like a middle schooler.

I needed to get to my mom. She'll know what to do. But I'm so mad at myself. She's been acting weird lately and I've just been dumping all my problems on her. I want to apologize before anything. She deserves much better than a daughter who has no stability in her life. She's been a single mom for 9 years. My dad went missing when I was 12 and was declared dead a year after. I don't even remember the funeral or anything. All I know is he was a good husband to my mom. She only has a few pictures of him from their wedding. Not to sound fucked up, but I don't think about him much. Just like how I won't ever need to think about George again. He's stuck up, arrogant, and manipulative. The sweet image is all an act. And I'm done with it.

My hand dives into my coat pocket to retrieve my key. I shove the front inside the keyhole, so ready to burst in and rant to my mom. Which is when time stops.

Harry Styles

Three. 

Three girls have come up here to sit above the view. Questioning their pointless lives, as if each life is something different. It's always either a loss, breakup, or a job conflict. Not one of them has come up here with a different story.

The first one arrived on this rooftop mumbling to herself about how she deserves someone better than some bloke named Lewis. She didn't have any intentions of falling off this building, which is why after about ten minutes, she left.

Then the second, desperately sobbing about her dead grandfather. She had the whole look too, headphones and a hoodie. I almost felt bad, but I decided to keep inspecting from a distance behind my dear venting system.

Then the last, a classy businesswoman. Very sexy, yet stressed. She was going to jump, I could see it in her eyes, she was talking to someone over the phone about how she's worked so hard for this promotion and yet somebody else got it instead of her. She was a pinch close, before her phone rang again. She brushed herself off and climbed back down to safety.

I swear I would pitch myself off this rooftop too after watching all that. I've been sitting here for three hours watching these girls pass by. I hit the club with Zayn and Niall a while ago, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I'm zooted. I'm seeing three of everything, and a rooftop is probably the last place I should be, considering I could fall to my death in one wrong move. But honestly, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I've been sitting up here for as long as I can remember. Underneath is just an abandoned building now.

I'm about to climb down myself and head home before I notice a fourth girl climb up here. My interest is piqued. She looks so pale and lost. I think I know her. Do I? Not sure. I can barely stand on my two feet. I hadn't even realized the sirens and flashing lights underneath. Is that her house? Looks quite tiny. Ah there's my favorite. Mr Jane. He never liked me. I don't even know why. I was a good kid. Same as whoever this girl is and her friend. Whatever, this story isn't for now.

The girl stands above the opposite end of the rooftop, also glancing at the forty-foot drop as did the others. Her body is calm and collected, unlike the rest that came up here tonight. I haven't been able to see her face yet.When she turns to look behind her, my heart does a little backflip. She's beautiful. Not hot, or whorish, but breathtaking. Or maybe she's extremely ugly and I can't notice because of my current state. I want to know her name. I want to know everything about her.

My eyes focus again when a foot of hers dips above the height. I want to scream at her to stop. So why am I not doing that? But who is she to me? I don't know this girl. I may as well just let her fall and finally be at peace. She's most definitely the girl the police are talking about down there. So just let her be. Let her live her own separate life and go get sober. She's no one to me. Nothing. But when her eyes close to accept her own fate, my voice forces itself to be heard.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Shit.

a/n: hi omg. i just wanted to say thank you to anyone who is reading my story so far. i've received so much support from all of u on all platforms. i know rain isn't that big yet, but i'm still so grateful. i hope ur having an amazing new year so far.