Dispirited (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 7

"I really think I cut myself, it hurts too much down there."

"Put a bandage on it love, I don't really give a fuck." I hummed, mixing my coffee while scrolling through Twitter. No work today, thank the gods above for that. I was looking forward to going clubbing. Just letting go of everything that's been piling on my shoulders these past years. The memories of my past made me cringe, my ancient journal was still in the drawer of my nightstand. I was about 11 when I started realizing I could write down my feelings. Sure it felt great to let it loose on some stupid paper, but the ache in my heart wouldn't leave. I'd always think, 'did I deserve this', 'was I that much of a failure to be treated this way?' My mother was my savour, she was the only one to know how to make me feel wanted when I was at my breaking point. She'd hold me tight when the nightmares would cause me to physically shake in bed, take me on long drives at 4 in the morning when I wanted to forget the world and be with the one person that loves me for me.

Entering puberty was probably one of the worst times for me, pimples were unattractive, small breasts were the reason boys would never talk to you, and having no ass would qualify you as 'not girlfriend material'. Girls are not fucking objects to toy around with. You can't make them 'sexier' or 'prettier' or 'more attractive' by applying more makeup and wearing barely there clothes. We are not dolls. Is it that hard to understand how fucking disgusting and disrespectful that is? It takes little to no effort of loving a girl how she fucking is. I may not believe in love but that doesn't mean I despise it to the point of ruining that image for the entire female population. Every girl in this fucked up excuse of a planet needed to get it in their heads that boys from cliche romance novels weren't real. There would never be a happy ending, it's all a lie. Every fairytale was just to mess with your mind and make you expect Prince Charming to come to the rescue. It messes with your mind and leaves you disappointed. It's a lie.

"What's wrong?" Daniel cooed, caressing my cheeks and kissing my forehead. I looked around the giant kitchen only to see no Sidra and my coffee gone. That bitch. "You've been staring at the fridge for a while, if you're fucking hungry, don't expect it to just pop up in front of you." He chuckled brightly, playfully hitting my chest.

Daniel was one of my four best friends. Definitely the one I respected most. He was gentle and kind-hearted but if anyone fucks with him, he'd start a damn cat fight that even cats would be jealous. His cat-like eyes made it more humorous. His hair was everywhere, sticking out in different directions without any out of place somehow. A plaid shirt and vest adoring his slim body. He was losing his shirts one by one. It was at the point where he had more jeans then shirts. Which was odd. Every damn one-night stand thought 'well these are nice, designer shirts, why the fuck not take everything that fits in my boxers and sprint the fuck out of here?' Most of his clothes now, were currently taking up half the space in my walk-in closet after I told him I saw a suspicious looking dude with bumpy jeans -where I found out he hid Daniels shirts after yanking his pants and underwear down- stole his favourite moustache t-shirt. He'd been petrified, claiming he would never have sex in his room. I found the bastard fucking someone in my room the next day.

"Go get ready, none of your black shit please. Wear real colour." Daniel says, flipping through a magazine I'm sure he stole from a supermarket.

"Clubbing?"

"No retard, shopping!" Daniel squealed excitingly before going back to his magazine right after.

"I thought we were getting drunk and shit?"

"Not any fucking more, go change before I help you."

"You evil fuck!" I exclaim, messing with his hair just to spite him. He gasps, clearly not expecting that. I was mad. Livid actually. Fucking shopping was his idea of fun? Of course Daniel would choose that. "I fucking hate you, why were you even born? I bet you were adopted. I mean, your birth parents probably thought 'this little shit will ruin our lives, better to give him away then keep him.'" I stomp my foot against the stair. He stares at me for a split second, still not over the fact that he needs to spend another hour fixing his hair.

"Bitch I'll fuck you up, run fat fuck, run!"

---

"No more," I gasp for air, we've been going from shop to shop for almost six hours and I was certain my brain would blow to bits. This was like shopping with my mother when I was twelve. "You have almost twenty bags, I think we're done." I glare at his stupid head. He turns his head as if sensing my stare, and I take that chance to yank him -with no effort- by his vest to my car that seemed millions of miles away.

"You're paying for food then, I'm not going home with an empty stomach and fifty bags of clothes to hang." Daniel rips my arm away, and pouts his lips while shaking his hands that are clinging to each other vigorously.

"Yes child, now come before I give your filthy shirts to one of the many sluts of yours."

He stays quiet, he knows well that I'm cruel enough to do dumb shit like that.

We make it to my car and I drive us to a Chinese fast food place that was still open at almost midnight. The smell was absolutely mouthwatering. "Let's order for everyone at home, but tell them we got them nothing." Daniel squeals, clapping his hands together while I stare in amusement.

"Whatever you say, loser." I grin before ordering practically the whole menu. Daniel grabs five pairs of chopsticks they always have at the front. We waited a full 45 minutes, it was a quarter to one in the morning. Though I didn't feel pity for the workers, I just wanted my fucking food so I could eat in my room alone in the dark while acting like I had an orgasm from the juicy bits. If that was possible, I would never have sex again.

Our food was finished and I grabbed it aggressively, muttering a small 'thank you' before I shove it into Daniels small hands when we enter the car. He turns on the radio, blasting it to the point where I imagined red liquid bleeding out my ears.

"I'm coming home, I'm coming home. Tell the world I'm coming home." Daniel screamed before giggling into his hand. "How fucking fitting," I chuckle, in absolute bliss, hanging with my best friend while screaming our hearts out to songs.

He took his phone out, tapping on the Snapchat app before making a video of us. "We're fucking going home!" I screeched while honking like a wild man. Thank god no one was on the road. Daniel quickly put it on his story before turning to me. "Well now the world knows we're going home." I hold in my laughter, this kid was fucking crazy but I loved him to bits.

I pulled up to our driveway, turning the car off before snatching the food. We make our way up the steps to the front door and I hear a distant voice. "They should be here soon, I'm sure Daniel will agree. I'll try to convince Athena." My confused expression mirrors Daniels. What the fuck was going on? Why were they talking about us? Convince me about what?

I forget about it as soon as Daniel whispers a small 'we're home'. We both burst out laughing and I struggle to take the house keys out of my butt pocket. I turn my ass towards Daniel and he gets the hints. Quickly grabbing the keys, he hands them to me and I glare.

"You could've opened it asswipe, do you not know how to use your fucking brain?"

He ignores me, nudging me towards the door and I turn the key slowly. The door opens and I slam it shut. "You're still a dumbass," I chuckle while trying my best to take off my shoes.

The warm food starts to seep into my skin, slightly burning it and leaving it an angry red. I jog lightly towards our over-sized kitchen, and slam the Chinese onto the island sitting dead centre in the kitchen. My feet are still clad in my black, knee high boots. I walk over to the front door where our new shoe mat lays. Now, with empty hands, I easily undo the laces and leave them sprawled across the floor. No ones got the time to organize their shoes, thank the heavens my mother doesn't live with me. God knows how much of a neat freak she can be.

A cough releases from someone's throat, the sound echoes throughout the tall, intimidating multicoloured walls. My eyes fly sharply towards the sounds. Abel. I give him a hard stare, the tension was so unbearable that you couldn't cut through it. Everyone in the room - I counted 8 people, not including me and Daniel - visibly flinched as if I was shooting fucking arrows with my eyes. I was angry, hell, I was fucking livid, why the fuck were there 5 fuckers in my house? What do they need to convince me about? What will Daniel agree with? Fuck! This is getting irritating fast.

"What the fuck?"