In This World (Harry Styles)

Missing Chapter 6 (Jamaica)

(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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I took a few breathers in the bathroom, then splashed some cold water on my face to keep myself from crying. I stared at my reflection, chin dripping, and could not recognize myself anymore. I looked gaunt and dazed. My eyes were rimmed with dark circles and I needed a shave. I can't believe I'd gotten on camera looking like this. Then all I could think about was Charlotte, and how I'd disrespected her by storming out. That was unlike me. That was a very Zayn thing to do, ditching people and burning professional bridges left and right. Throwing narcissistic tantrums and trying to belittle everyone around me. I needed to make this right. If I couldn't lead the life I wanted because my past kept resurfacing to sabotage any ounce of happiness I acquired, then the least I could do was not become him. I owed it to myself to stay true to my real character. Not succumb to bitterness and self-pity. I was better than that.

I dried my face and headed back out. Charlotte was gone, but Z was having a smoke on the balcony. I moved back to the computer and dialed her back. I apologized straightaway, and she was very forgiving. When he heard us talking, he butted his cigarette and joined. We picked up where we'd left off, and I vowed to keep my answers as positive as possible, even though the great deal of negative I'd experienced with him was burning a hole in my heart. There was just no justice in this world. This interview made us sound like equals in this thing. Like we'd both been wronged. I hated that he got to be a victim. It was the most sickening conversation of my life, sitting here and presenting a unified front with him, when our relationship had become the antithesis of that. I had no tender feelings for him. He was practically a stranger to me. He was an awful, selfish person, and I wanted so badly for the world to know that. Sadly, they never would.

"Haz? Hellooo? Haz, the question's to youh."

"Oh, sorry. What was the question again?"

"Do you ever write about one another?" Charlotte clarified.

"I already said yeah, soh now it's your turn."

"Uh...yeah, of course. It was our only outlet really."

"Yup. That and the tattoos."

"Pfft, yeah, Stupid fooking tattoos."

"Interesting development. I wouldn't've guessed that!"

"Yep."

"So...what's your most honest song about one another?"

"Easy. It's one I'm working on now called: "Tightrope." I glanced at him then, realizing "Tightrope" was a play on my last album...Fine Line.

"Uh...I guess maybe it's between: "From the Dining Table" and a couple I'm working on for the next album. The lead single...and, uh...one I'm not too comfortable mentioning here."

He looked at me strangely, but didn't press the issue. He knew he was in no position to question me about anything anymore. I couldn't wait to be out of contact with him again, with the final response he'd ever have from me being the messages in those upcoming songs.

"Any songs you regret writing about one another?"

"Plenty," I said reflexively. "I'd written far too many."

"Same, I guess. Maybe some of the petty ones f'sure."

"Has anyone ever found out about you two? If so, did they ever confront you about the situation?"