rain. |h.s|

20

I'm going to wipe out his entire existence. Harry Styles won't be a person anymore. Let me rephrase. I'm going to send him off to a mental institution. Because I think this whole bipolar this isn't fake. Or funny. He should get help. And get away from me as soon as possible.

"Zayn?" I look at him through my watery eyes.

"Yes?" He looks down at me like he's ready to do anything. Perfect.

"I have a pretty big favor to ask you." I sniffle a little.

"Anything."

I sniffle again, pushing him a little further away from me. "I'm going to tell you a plan okay? And if you think that I'm crazy or out of my mind after I say it, that's okay. You don't have to do it. I'll do it alone. But this is happening whether you like it or not."

"Noelle. What's going on?" He slides his hand down my arm to show me a sense of comfort. It feels nice, but not what I'm looking for right now.

I take a breath. I blink a few times. I straighten my shirt. What I'm about to say is going to change his entire perspective of me. Harry's perspective of me. My perspective of myself. I lean in a little closer, keeping my hand over his tattoo on his hand.

"I'm going to place a camera in Harry's office. I'm then going to go in his office, and talk to him like I normally do, and just let everything unfold. I'll take that awful recording to the police of New York and put that son of a bitch in an institution far away from me. I don't care if Lethal finds me in the process, or if you, Niall, and Harlow hate me. He's leaving one way or another."

He doesn't know what to say. He looks at me like I'm a serial killer. He wants to say yes to my offer, but also wants to stay by Harry's side, which I also understand. I don't know what's happening to me. Maybe I'm just as insane as Harry. Maybe I'm even more. Maybe this is my breaking point. I don't know. But I need to do something. Whether it's getting rid of Harry or Lethal. Right now, both seem just as bad.

"I—I don't know if I can help you," He seems more calm now. But he's still a little on edge.

"Great. Then let me figure this out on my own." I immediately stand up and brush myself off.

I start walking up the stairs and aim for my bedroom. I saw a camcorder stuffed in the back of my closet. I can surely use that. This is it. This is the last of Harry.

"Wait."

I don't know why, but a smile pulls my lips to line up with my eyes.

"I won't help you. I'm still sticking with that," His words seem like a waste of time. "But I won't stop you. If this blows up in your face, I will have nothing to do with it. And if it doesn't, I still won't have anything to do with it."

"Fine."

With that, I'm already in my bedroom, rummaging through my closet for that damn camcorder. And there it is. Sitting behind a bunch of lingerie. Why is that even in this house? Gross. Is there lingerie like this in every hideout Harry has?

I grab the camcorder and hold down the power button just to make sure it works. And it does. Beautifully. It looks like he's bought this a while ago too. I'm about to leave my room, but then I stop in my tracks.

I take a deep breath. I'm not crazy. I'm just protecting myself. I'm adapting. I'm stopping the cycle. I tug the hair tie out of my hair and move my hair around a bit. This is going to be fine. it'll all be okay. This is it. The end of everything.

I notice that Harry's door is ajar. He's definitely in there. I can smell the cologne from here. I push it open very gently. I hit the red record button on top of the camcorder. There's a fresh and empty cassette in there. It's all okay. It's planned perfectly. There's barely any room for anything to go wrong.