Facing His Demons (Harry Styles, One Direction)

Chapter One

Harry Styles; I was the bad boy of London. The person you wouldn't want to meet on a dark night. My reputation was enough to bring grown men to their knees, and didn't I know it.

I was a member of a gang, Gang 7 as we're known. I didn't really have a choice as to joining, it was expected of me. My Father had started the legacy and I was there to continue it.

I didn't agree with everything we did, but sometimes you have to do things you don't want to for the greater good.

It was a Saturday night. I was looking for a break. Today had been tough, Malik's gang were causing trouble again. They despised us, and did everything to get back at us. I'd had enough.

I walked into Troye's public house, my usual hide out spot. I walked towards the bar, people parted like a wave as I stormed through the room. They feared me. Everyone avoided my glance, except for one girl.

She was sat in the corner, on a small stool holding what looked like a novel. She was pretty; beautiful in fact, but she was stupid to look at me with such confidence. She seemed to be analysing me, wondering why I had such an affect on people.

She must be new here.

I sat at the bar.

"Some vodka Michael." I shouted to the ever so familiar bar man.

"Look Harry, I don't want any trouble." He begged.

"And you won't get any trouble if you give me my drink." I stated coldly.

"Very well." He sighed. We had a mutual respect for each other, he'd always listened to me when I was drunk and sentimental, but he knew not to defy me.

He nodded, and poured me a glass.

"Thank you." My upper lip curled, as I threw my head back and gulped the alcohol down.

"Maybe you should take it easy." Michael commented.

"And maybe you should keep your nose out of my business." I snarled, slamming the glass onto the bar.

I glanced around the room. People muttered and whispered to themselves; clearly about me. If I wasn't tired as fuck, they'd probably be on the floor by now with my fist in their faces.

I knew most people here, and they knew me. This part of London was full of trouble, everyone here was basically involved in something messed up.

There was no innocence in this bar except for her. Something about her drew me to her like a moth to the flame. She seemed so out of place here. I grabbed a bottle of vodka off the shelf, and sat beside her.

She didn't look up from her book. I stared at her for a while. Her long brown hair tucked behind her ears and her deep blue eyes, scanning the pages.

After a while she sighed and looked up at me.

"What?" She asked.

"What do you mean." I said slowly.

"Why do you keep watching me, it's creepy." She asked, with a small hint of a smile.

"I apologise Lacey." I smirked before walking away.

"How do you know my name?" She shut her book quickly, her eyes following me as I walked away.

"I know a lot of things." I said as I sat at the bar again.

I knew she'd be too curious not to follow me now. And sure enough she sat beside me, looking at me in a confused manner.

"Now whose staring?" I stated, amused at the strange scene unfolding.

She laughed. "Sorry, you just intrigue me."