Behind the Glasses

Please explain!

"Harry.... My name is Harry."

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"What?"

"My name is Harry Styles."

"Then where does Marcel come from?" He must have a concussion or something...

"It's my middle name." Uhhh, what? I'll just go with it for now but I'm not saying I believe the guy.

"Then why do you like to be called Marcel and not Harry..."

"Umm you can sit this may take a while." He says motioning to the chair next to him, "I know I have a lot of explaining to do"

"Yes, you do."

"And I know you probably have a lot of questions too and I'm willing to answer them but its strange for me... No one has ever noticed all the little things about me that don't necessarily match up."

"Well I did."

"I know and trust me I've noticed all the cute little things about you too." And I fell myself start to blush. I wait for him to say something but he doesn't...

"soooo?" I start impatiently waiting for him to start.

"Oh, uhh god... I don't even no where to start." He says running his fingers through his hair.

"Okay let's start with the Marcel/Harry thing... Why don't you like being called Harry?"



"because of my father. His name was Harry and he was fine till I was about 7 or 8 and when he lost his job he became an alcoholic."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you do-" I start feeling bad I asked.

"No, I need to get it out. It's been trapped in too long. Anyway, since he didn't have a job we relied on the little money my mother made and he would waste the little amount that we did have on the alcohol. Every night he would come home drunk and my mother would have to put up with his stupid shit." He simply stares at me to wait for some kind of reaction but all I can do is stare back, I would have never guessed.

" I started mowing lawns and stuff around 10 to help with the money issue but it all only got worst. I can't remember a moment when my father was stable." I'm not looking at him yet but I can feel his green eyes staring at me.

"One night my dad came home drunk like he usually does but this time he was straight out of his mind." I feel his gaze tear away from mine as I look up to see his eyes start to swell with tears.

"I was supposed to be sleeping but I couldn't with my father yelling, I was worried... For my mothers sake of course. My mother said something about how he needs a job or they wouldn't be able to send me to school and he got mad. So he got a gun from his pocket and aimed it at my mom, I tried to stop him but I was too late." At this point he's looking at the ground to try to hide the tears but I can see the water spots all over my floor where his tears have fallen.

"how old we're you?"

"13" he says finally looking up at me and I can feel my eyes star to water and a tear falls from my eye.

"I'm sorry" I say motioning to my tear as I try my best to stop crying but he simply takes his hand and wipes them away.

"Don't be" he says and it just makes my heart melt to know what he's been through a couple moments of silence pass as I try to recollect myself and figure out what to say next.



"So what did you do?"

"I called the cops and the second they arrested my father they called my moms parents. i didn't want to deal with the grief, so i ran. I packed a bag full food and a couple pieces of clothing and all the money in the house and I ran. I traveled for almost a week till I reached this little town and I couldn't go any longer. I was almost out of money and completely out of food. So I got multiple jobs and saved up for any type of shelter. Once I got a small one bed/one bath apartment and I was the happiest guy on Earth but I had no family and no friends and I was extremely depressed and angry with myself."

"Marcel, you were 13, there was no way you could have prevented what happened to your mother." I say



"I know, I know I tell myself that all the time...but I don't believe it." He says shaking his head in defeat so I try to change the subject a little.

"So when did you start going to our school."

"Oh um just last year. I had enough money and a bigger flat and a nice job."

"Oh well that's nice. I'm still really confused though..."

He just chuckles, "okay well why are you still confused?"

"The 'plastic' glasses" I say making air quotes with my fingers.

"Ahh, okay... It's all part of my cover. I don't actually dress like this." Lol what is he talking about?!

"Yes you do!!!! You dress like this everyday!" I can help but laugh. "But then you have these tattoos and and.." I trail off but he cuts me off.

"Okay I see why your all confused, in order to express how I felt I would get tattoos, it helped with the healing process... That is along with the boxing."

"The boxing?!"

"Yeah, I used to go to one of the local gyms to work out every Saturday and one day while I was running I started thinking about the whole situation again and I got really mad so I let it all out on a punching bag. One of the trainers there saw me and said I was really good. At the time he and some of his buddies kinda boxed here and there on the weekends so I started going with them. It really helped with anger and still does."

"That explains so much!"

"Like what?" He says chuckling.

"Like how you went after Mac Daddy without even hesitating and got a perfect punch in every time."

"Yeah, I kinda lost control of my anger which I usually save for when we fight but I couldn't deal with any of it any longer."

"Wow, I wasn't expecting any I this..."

"I know."

"Soo about those plastic glasses......"

"Oh, right. Well when I applied for school they didn't except me because of my tattoos and I had big muscles at the time and my hair was all curly and I had the beanie and the typical bad boy look so they probably expected me to be nothing but trouble."

"So would I if I saw you like that! First impressions matter the most!" I say stealing his famous smirk.

"Yeah yeah yeah, well I came back 2 weeks later with high wasted pants and a long sleeve sweater that covered my tattoos and slicked back hair, i looked like a totally different guy! So I registered with a different first name..."

"Marcel." I say putting together the puzzle pieces in my head.

"Exactly."