Nothing Can Ever Replace You (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 1

SELF-HARM ALERT! Anyway, I hope you like the first chapter! 

Harry's P.O.V

I'm sitting on the cold, hard, tiled floor of mine and Louis' ensuite at the hotel we're staying at. He's gone and I feel numb. I don't know what to do. How do I relieve myself from the pain in my heart? I can't, because he's not here, and her never really will be, as long as we stay with Modest! because them homophobic cunts would never let us come out. They even made us get fake girlfriends. Louis has his beard, Eleanor, and I had Taylor, but I just couldn't pretend....Louis' a good actor, but not me, I can't bring myself to lie to everyone like that. So here I am, all alone, while Louis on a date with Eleanor. I just feel like I have no one right now....that's why I turned to self harm all them years ago...that's why I need to turn to it again now.

I can't do it anymore. I can't hide like this. Just knowing that I will never be able to kiss my boyfriend in public, or tell all our fans who get shitloads of hate but still believe in us, just everything, I just can't cope with that feeling. I have to get out and cutting is the only way I can forget. All the anger and sadness just floods away and I can't remember anything. I only know the moment, I only see the blood, and I only feel the pain as I drag the blade across my porcelain skin.

I need it now. I need to do it now. Quickly, I scramble up and across the room from where I was sitting to the cabinet under the sink and fumble with the key trying to prise it open. The doors burst apart and my eyes dart around the dark looking for the razors I know Louis put under here somewhere. As soon as I locate them, my fingers snatch one up and I slide back over to the small alcove, where I sit with my knees against my chest. Adrenaline rushes through my body as I slip the blades out of the razor and place the remains on the floor next to me. I grab a towel and place it over my legs and I am also ready until I remember the boys. I don't want them to hear my screams, muffled or not, so I take out my iphone, hurriedly type in the pass code, making a few mistakes as I go along, and open up my music folder. I turn up the volume to it's loudest and out blares 'How to Save a Life' by The Fray. It does the desired effect, yet somehow I just can't do it to this song - it reminds me of when Louis played it on the piano on Greg James' Radio 1 show. That makes me even more depressed so I hit shuffle and on comes 'American Idiot' by Green Day. Perfect: it's loud, rocky and will do exactly the job I want.

The sharp blade hovers in my fingers, poised above my wrist. I know this is wrong, and it isn't safe, I've heard it a thousand times before, but I can't help it. It just mesmerizes me - it's like an old addiction coming back to tempt you. It's the only way out.

And so, for the first time in just over 3 years, I dragged the acute, metal blade across my already scared wrist.

"ARGHH!" I screamed whilst watching the droplets of blood form and gush out of my inner wrist. Wow. That really, really hurt, yet it released my mind. The feeling is inexplainable - it blocked out all my emotions and replaced them with the pain. All I could think about was the pain - and I like it. I cut myself several more times, each time my screams quieting and eventually being replaced with relieved sighs. I felt so much better, mentally...it was incredible. One more will do it. As I drag the blade across my already covered-in-blood wrist, I sigh with relief and cover my bloody hand with the towel. That felt so good, I can't describe it except to say that I felt like a prisoner who had been serving his time for so long and then was finally set free.

I was sat there, panting, putting a lot of pressure of my bloody wrist when I heard

"HARREHHH!!! TURN OFF THE BLOODY MUSIC AND COME OUT IT'S LUNCHTIME AND LIAM WON'T LET US START 'TIL YOU'RE HERE AND I'M HUNGRYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed by Niall.

I jumped! Man, I need to clean up and fast! I hastily switched of the music and climbed up. I stuffed the towel to the bottom of the basin and rushed out into my room and over to the bedside cabinet where I knew my foundation would be. I kept this small bottle of liquid foundation just in case I ever needed to cover up the cuts. I applied it generously so the scars and cuts weren't visible and then I put on some bands and bracelets just in case.

"OI, HARRYYY, YOU BETTER HURRY UP OR IM COMIING IN THERE, I DONT CARE WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING!" Niall shouted yet again. Better go see what they want then. A quick look in the mirror, and a wipe away of the tears are all I have time to do, and then I rush out of the room.

Back into the harsh world, where no one will accept me for me. Where I have to hide my sexuality. Where I have to hide who I really am.

To hide away the real, Harry Edward Styles.