In This World (Harry Styles)

Missing Chapter 1 (Amsterdam)

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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December 2020

Amsterdam, Netherlands

GRAY

The Netherlands in winter were unlike Japan. I was freezing my tits off. My old canvas jacket wasn't nearly enough to shield me from the gusts, so I stopped by a shop and purchased a cashmere coat that set me back a few grand. Great, now I had that little bastard to thank for making me shell out a house note on a coat I probably wouldn't touch again after I left here. He'd sent over the address, so after I left the store, I popped the tags, shrugged it on, and hurried to him on foot. I moved fast for a guy my size, and I was so overwhelmed to see him, I broke out into full sprints at times, elbowing my way through the crowds until I was stopped by the occasional traffic light.

As the hotel fell into view, my heart thundered. I hung a u-ey and ambled about a bit, trying to gather myself. It had been merely days since he left, but it felt like ages. Unsure of when or if I'd ever see him again, the moments had been like hours and all the while I couldn't play it cool. Not for a second. I was desperate, carrying on like a pork chop. Beyond whipped. And believing I'd lost what now meant more to me than my own life didn't make for a sound sleep. I'd sat up those nights until I could no longer keep awake and passed out in the studio, listening to his tracks to sedate me. That was until I got the call and my world was righted. Freed me from the purgatory of my own thoughts and inability to be a rational being.

He told me where he was. I should've guessed it, but I only figured he could be anyplace in the world. It would exhaust me in my state to travel country to country in search of him, particularly with travel restrictions inhibiting tourism most places. The call was all I needed, and I was booking a flight to the Netherlands in the next breath. On the line, he apologized for leaving. Said he was an idiot for not talking things through, but admitted he couldn't think straight at the time. Not with him around. Then he said he couldn't be without me, and got bonus points for tearing up on the phone. All was forgiven, as long as I could see him. That's when he sent me his location and I was out the door.

I strode down the street to the Golden Age city center, marveling at the stunning architecture along the way. The sunlight beamed off the canal in iridescent glory, but I couldn't help thinking how much vomit and fecal matter it must've housed through the years, and cringed at the thought of taking a dip in it. Soon I rounded a corner, and the hotel was before me. I took a breath, anxiously hoisting my duffel onto my shoulder.

The Waldorf Astoria glinted in the distance, ablaze in the high noon sun. He was just there, waiting, and already I could feel his spirit calling to mine from behind the palatial facade. Inside, I discovered he'd left a key for his fiancé, and was beginning to feel like a kept man again. My foot tapped rapidly as I waited for an elevator, but when none came, I took the stairs, climbing two at a time. Soon I was bursting into the room, dropping my bag onto the floor, and sweeping the suite. I found him seated on the balcony in a daze, staring out over the rooftops across the way. He looked a bit bothered. Frightened even.

I approached, savoring a sight I feared I'd never see again after his gut-wrenching letter of farewell. Crikey, I thought I'd never hear his laugh or be able to look into his eyes again. He'd sounded so resigned in the letter, I was sure there was no way to convince him to come home. Yet here he was, waiting for me.