Sinner H.S

19

Harry Styles

The rough air hits the back of my throat, and I pull the cigarette away from my lips and blow out the smoke. The night sky lit by the city lights, as I sit up on an abandoned flat. I come up here often, just to clear my mind. Get away from the world. No one knows I come here, they just know I disappear for a while but never know where I am.

It's quite relaxing if I'm being honest. I love sitting here, watching all the tiny cars pass by, and all the little humans walk on the street doing whatever they do in their lives. It's entertaining on my part, guessing their life, what they look like their job is.

My phone buzzes on the ledge of the building, lighting up the dark area I'm sitting at.

Zayn - 11:45pm
Meet me in the alleyway. We have a problem.

I drag the last bit of the cigarette before putting it out and throwing it behind me. I then walk out the building, running down a bunch of stairs.

Once I'm on the street, I try my best to cover my face and try and stay hidden. One thing about being a celebrity that I hate is where ever you go, you'll always get noticed. Don't get me wrong, I love the attention, I'm a narcissist what can I say?

But sometimes I just want to walk around without worrying about other people and who might take video and pictures.

Over the years I've mastered staying hidden pretty well.

I push past a couple people, making sure my head is down low, running across the street to meet Zayn in the alleyway.

Once I'm there, I'm met with Zayn's tall and dark figure, his back facing toward me. "Hey, what's up?" I ask as I slowly walk closer to him.

He moves to the side, revealing a man who looks like he just got beaten the living shit out of him by Zayn. He's curled up in a ball, his mouth shaking as he protests.

"N-No, please." He puts his hand out.

"What the hell? Who is this?" I say but keeping my eyes on the man. "He knows." Zayn tells me, and my body tenses.

"He knows?" I repeat to clarify, and Zayn hums, a psychotic smirk plastered on his face as he pulls out his gun, and handing it over to me. I aim at the man's forehead.

"He was gonna tell them." Zayn adds and I shake my head disapprovingly. "See, that was a bad idea." I crouch down, being face to face with him.

Blood is coming out of his cheek. Red and purple bruises decorate his face, as he starts to cry.

"I-i'm sorry, I didn't know w-w-who I was dealing with." He pleads, he sits behind an old dumpster and he rests his head on it. "I swear, if I knew it was you guys, I-I never would've done anything." He chokes on his own blood.

His stutter is pathetic, "P-p-please, you have to understand."

"Understand?" I emphasizes his words, "Here's something you should understand, Darrell." I read the letters on his driver's license that spilled out of his wallet right next to him.

His face goes white once I say his name. "You don't fucking mess with us, wanna know why?"

I leans closer to him, only inches apart. "Because you'll get fucking killed." I whisper, and I shoot him in the head.

Blood splatters on my face from how close I was to Darrel. I chuckles as I touch the wet liquid on my face, looking at the red colour that paints my finger tips.

"How the hell did he find out?" Zayn ask, and I shrug. "Chio, maybe? Who gives a shit, he's dead now."

Zayn pinches the bridge of his nose. "H, if a normal guy like Darrel knows, there's probably a reason to believe that there's more." He try's to reason. I stare at the body that has now gone limp.