Crash Records || Larry Stylinson

7. Dream Land

'Turned the mess into a dream land
With a quirky act of romance
A version of Romeo and Juliet
This time with adidas sneakers and cigarettes'
I Love You, Will You Marry Me - Yungblud

Eyes screwed shut like a child praying that the monsters wouldn't appear in tonight's nightmare, Harry willed the shouting of his mother to stop. He didn't know wether she was shouting at him or at his dad over the phone. Yes they have been divorced for over eight years, but still had fight with in them - hence the angry phone calls. It made Harry feel like a child again, listening to theirs loud arguments above the sound of his music playing, usually Elvis. Just like in the past, Harry started searching for that record to play but then realised his record player was still broken. His heart twinged at the though of that snapped needle.

Using clothes as a facade, he rifled through his draws and pulled out the brightest t-shirt he owned. He figured that the rainbow stripes may just distract people from his sniffles and everlasting pout. He has learnt that clothes offer some sort of discretion, like an invisible cloak. God, Harry whished he had one of them especially when he was about to walk past his mother. About to leave his box like room, he grabbed a necklace that was sitting on the side and shoved it into his back pocket. He would put it on once he had left, saving himself from another argument with his mum about what is and what's not acceptable - not that Harry really argued back, but his mum could start an argument with a brick if she was in that mood.

"And where do you think you're going?" Anne asked as she pulled the phone away form her ear for a brief moment, before going back to screaming down the speaker, "No not you, not everything is about you! Why the fuck would I care about what you're doing? Des, I don't want to deal with you right now," she hung up, even though Harry was certain she was the one who called him in the first place.

"You don't normally ask where I'm going," the green eyed boy mumbles as he picked at his bottem lip.

Tucking her phone into her apron pocket, Anne sighed, "that's because I don't care to know what book you're going to find at the library, or what terrible song your desperately searching for. Honestly Harry you need to get some more interesting interests. And I'm asking because I'm you're mum," she said like that title meant something to him. "Plus, I need to you to clean up the kitchen for me."

"I can't I have work."

"At that smelly little record shop?" She asked, turning her nose up in repulse. Harry just simply nodded, because in all honesty Crash Records did kind of smell. It wasn't a pungent smell, more damp, dusty and old. It was rather comforting and reminded him of his grandad's jumpers that were stored in the attic of his dads place. He misses his grandad. "How much do you get payed? Should start making you pay board?"

"Not much," Harry lied, he doesn't get payed at all. There is no way the green eyed boy could tell his mum that, she would make him quite and that would be like taking the sunshine from his already grey life. He could deal with out working but it would mean not seeing Louis almost everyday. It hasn't been long, but he's already so attached. "I don't think I'll have enough to pay a decent amount of board and I'm trying to save up for a new record player."

"Ahh yes" she sighed, "that hideous thing."

Sure it's not as sleek as the modern ones that you can get nowadays, but the dark mahogany wood still held a bit of charm. Well it did when it still worked.

"Can you not spend your money on something else? Hearing those songs over and over agin gives me a right headache and not to mention your singing. If I'm being honest, I preferred when you were younger and wouldn't dare say a word, at least then you were quite," she huffed.