insane // harry styles

chapter seven

song of the chapter: business - catfish & the bottlemen

Harry's POV

There's an old saying that goes, "Drunken words are sober thoughts." And that quote was absolutely true.

That's the reason why I usually don't drink at all.

Today was an exception.

I didn't know whether I was angry at Aurora, because she read that personal letter of mine, or I was angry because I didn't want her to see the other side of me.

The one that longed for a real family, a real family that loved me.

I had to put on the emotionless, arrogant facade so that I could forget about everything that ever happened to me in the past.

I was feeling a mix of emotions at this point and my mind was telling me to drink, so I did.

I got my ass up and off my couch, stopped feeling sorry for myself and drove myself to Vortex, despite my bleeding hand. I blasted Robbers over and over again, even though it reminded me of what happened earlier that day (or should I say, the day before - the clock hit exactly one in the morning) but I couldn't bring myself to turn the music off or change the song.

As I parked my car in one of the parking slots at the back of the club, I expected to hear some sort of music blasting from inside, but then I remembered that music wasn't allowed to be playing at all, even in clubs. It's hard to remember the set rules when you're the only one breaking them.

I stepped into the wintry night, and it took me a while to see that it was snowing - barely, but it was still snowing. The tiniest snowflake landed on my sleeve and I touched it, watching it melt under human heat.

I wrapped my coat snugly around my torso and sauntered towards the entrance of the not-really-a-club club.

It looked pretty busy, which was surprising for a Wednesday night/morning. The lively chatter filled the air, while the warmth of the club pulled me, in as I pushed open the glass doors that led me inside.

I wasn't a regular at Vortex, but I noticed the bartender that was hitting on me last time was working the bar, so I set my eyes on her, not really caring about what was going to happen tonight.

I felt depressed and I wanted to be depressed, so, drinking was my only way to keep me from feeling anything.

"Hello," I addressed the familiar female in a husky tone, making my way over to sit on the stool directly in front of her. "Nice to see you again, Bella."

"Hi, Harry. Nice to see you too." She beamed at me sweetly, wiping an empty beer glass with a cloth. "It's been a while since you've been here. How's the foster fam going?"

Fuck. I forgot that I had told her (drunkenly) about my old foster family when I was still living with them.

"The 'foster fam' is long gone, I live on my own now." I told her, absentmindedly drumming my fingers on the counter.

"That's great, Harry! Maybe you could invite me over sometime?"

"I- yeah, it's great and all, but I have to see a psychiatrist now, to um...sort out some of my problems and stuff. Anyway, enough talk about me, can I order a pint of lager?" I wanted to avert the conversation from talking about Aurora or anything to do with psychiatry.

"You can tell me whatever's happening in your life, Harry, you know I'm always here to listen." Bella scooted closer to me, leaning over the counter that was separating us. She rested her hand on the top of mine, and I had an urge to pull away, but I didn't.