Not Afraid (Harry Styles)

Prologue

Prologue:

"Go to Hell, Dan!" I screech at the top of my lungs as I stomp out of his apartment, slamming the door behind me. I hear him calling my name, but he gives up when I ignore him. As I power-walk down the crowded New York City streets, I feel the tears prick in my eyes, partly because of the stinging winter wind, but also because of the fact I just walked in on my "perfect boyfriend" of 2 years, cheating on me. Right there on his bed, fucking some slut. Real dummy if you ask me. Like, if you're going to cheat, at least don't do it in your own apartment where your girlfriend could just walk in on you.

The tears demand to be freed from my eyes, but I'm not giving up the fight. I refuse to cry in public, where so many people could see me; take pictures and videos, send them to some annoying ass magazine. I pick up my pace, jogging down the street, desperately trying to reach my house faster, but it's nearly impossible in jeans and combat boots.

Finally, when I reach my apartment, I race up the steps to the brownstone, fumbling in my pockets for my keys. When I finally clasp them, I can't get my hands to cooperate with the act of putting the key into the lock. The tears slip out of my eyes, streaming down my rosy cheeks as I sniffle. Trying to wipe them off with the back of my left hand, my right is finally capable of putting the key into the door, and I push it open, stumbling inside, trying to see through my tears. I drop my bag on the floor and race up the steps to the second floor and my room, kicking off my boots mid-stairway and sprinting up the second half with speed I didn't know I was capable of. Throwing the door to my room open, I collapse on my bed. I take my phone out of my pocket to call the only person left who I can trust. Bringing the device to my ear, and ringing blares through the speakers.

"Kelly it's midnight. Why are you calling me?" She groans on the other end.

"C-can you come over?" My voice breaks unexpectedly and more tears spring from my stormy eyes.

"Yeah, of course, I'm leaving now." She rushes, knowing something is wrong. I never cry.

"Bring some ice cream?" My lips pull upwards a millimeter higher, as the thought of ice cream brings me joy.

"Ben and Jerry's Half Baked, comin' your way babe."

"Thank you." I sadly smile a bit more now, knowing I lucked out in the friends department. I hang up, throwing my jacket on my king-sized bed and carry my phone with me to the bathroom. I plug it into the giant speaker system I had installed so I could listen to music in the shower. Opening 8tracks and turn on a mix for a break-up. "I Knew You Were Trouble." rings through my bathroom, a relatable song for what I'm feeling. I love Taylor's songs, and her even more. We've hung out a few times, and she's nothing like they make her out to be in the media, which you find hapens with most celebrities.

I turn on the shower, letting the steam seep into my bathroom. The shower is too hot yet I'm too numb to do anything. I just stand there, letting the water hit my tanned skin before beginning to wash my hair. When I finally get out, it's been half an hour, and I'm sure Karina is here by now. There's no point in rushing then. The mix is now playing a Kelly Clarkson hit, and knowing her best songs are about douche bags, I'm not surprised. I wrap myself in my fluffy white robe and quickly blow dry my long, brunette hair, as I can't do anything with it wet. When it's been dried to it's normal style, I pull my hair into a high bun atop my head. I look like an idiot, but at this point, I don't give a shit to be honest. I rip my phone from it's speaker and run out of my bathroom into my room, plugging it into the same speaker system, except this one is in my room. The song picks up where it left off, and I dance around my room, slipping on clothing.

I turn off my music and exit my room in fuzzy socks and my worn, gray onesie. I walk slowly downstairs, trying to listen to whatever Karina is doing in my house. Walking into my living room, I see a small figure bundled up on my couch. Karina's sitting with my cat on her lap, watching The Notebook, without me. I sneak into the kitchen, putting popcorn into the microwave and getting soda and ice cream as well. I don't have any boys to impress now, I can pig out all I want, I tell myself. But I know it's not true, even if I don't have a boyfriend to impress, I have the entire world breathing down my neck, analyzing my every move. Millions of people care more about how I look than how they look.

I put all the food onto a tray and carry it out to the living room, putting it onto the coffee table and plop down on the couch next to her. I can feel her staring at me, trying to find evidence of what's wrong. She scans over my body, taking me in, and taking note of my puffy eyes, sore from crying.

"Babe, what happened?" She says, pushing my cat off the couch and cradling me with her small arms where I finally feel safe.

"D-dan." I can't even finish my sentence because a new round of sobs crashes over me like a tidal wave washing over a rocky shore.

"What. Did. He. Do. To. You." She says, through clenched teeth.

"Cheated." As more tears stream down my face.

"I'm so, so, so, so sorry. Dan is a dick. All guys are dicks."

"Agreed." I laugh humorlessly, and it was then I vowed never to trust a guy with my heart again.