inspirations // harry styles

chapter thirty-nine // you don't even know.

Harry's POV

* One week later *

The boys all joke around, full of smiles as we lazy around our venue for tonight. As always, I'm sitting outside of their group, not muttering a single word. Usually my brain is blank and void of anything beside Olivia. Of course that's the case as well today, but there's other things that occupy my mind as well.

As hard as the boys tried to hide it from me, I saw the latest magazine that's on the newsstands. Of course it's about us - more specifically, me - because the media seriously can't go a minute without trying to ruin our lives with rumors and stories that don't respect our privacy.

Right on the front cover were two separate candid photos of Olivia and I from this past week. The pictures were not attractive of either of us. I sense a slight use of editing to make matters worse.

Lucky me; my love life seems to be all anyone can talk about. Nobody had confirmed or said anything about Olivia and I no longer being together, but the paparazzi got word of it when Summer had let it slip when she was still extremely frustrated at all of us. She apologized right away to me, for everything, but that didn't change anything.

The article was full of photos from our romance along with several theories as to why we broke up. They used the picture of Olivia riding on Louis' back of course, saying that I was a jealous monster that couldn't stand her being friendly with the other lads.

But unfortunately, the put a lot of the blame on Olivia. They used a few photos from these past weeks that I am looking incredibly rough in; like a walking zombie. They said that she was sucking the life from me; that whatever it was that she did, it obviously hurt me a lot.

Little does everyone know that I was the monster; I ruined it all.

"Harry, it's time to start getting ready, mate," Zayn puts his arm around my shoulder, giving me a friendly squeeze and a bright smile.

I really do try my hardest to return the favor, but it doesn't appear so on my face. Dragging my feet, I shuffle behind the lads back to our dressing room.

Now that we're completely done recording in the studio, all the fun stuff gets to happen. Our tour just went on sale a few days ago and sold out in a matter of minutes. Everything we do for the next two weeks is preparation for that.

Tonight is sort of our kick-off for our tour. We're going to be preforming our songs for a much larger audience than the last time we showcased a few of them. This event is much more for the media, to attract attention to us and all we're doing.

I've been tossing and turning the past few nights, stressed out over everything. Louis had told me it would get easier over time, not being with Olivia, but that isn't the cast at all. If anything, it's only gotten a million times worse. It's been like spending a long and miserable winter without the sun.

And on top of that, I'm going to have to get on stage and sing the songs I wrote for her - the songs that are the very reason she's not here anymore - in front of a million people every night. I'm just not sure whether I'll be able to handle it.

"Alright lads, are you getting pumped?" Tyler enters our dressing room as we work on putting on our dress clothes. He's nearly bursting with excitement, as he often is before our performances.

The lads all cheer and jump around, starting to feel the pre-show jitters. Normally I'm the most energetic of the group before performances, jumping and screaming all over the place; not the case anymore. I silently button up my white shirt and let the others jump around in excitement.

My stylist - a woman that's been with us since the beginning - gives me a concerned look as she adds some unknown product to my hair, running her fingers through it. It only makes me think of Olivia's delicate fingers playing with my curls. I do my best to refrain from pushing my stylist away, even though it hurts like hell.