Fade {Harry Styles}

Chapter 6

Marcel had been dreading checking his phone ever since his blow up on Zayn. He knew that the engaged lad wouldn't let Marcel go so easily after such a heated discussion. Every day he had at least 20 texts and 6 missed phone calls and it was finally a week later that Marcel decided to return a message. 'A cooling off period' some might call it...

From Zayn:  please Harry talk to me

From Harry:  I'm sorry

Marcel knew that he had a weak response, but really wasn't in the mood to say anything else. And to be honest, he never apologized; to anyone. That simple word that was bouncing between cell phone towers all the way to Zayn's phone carried so much hidden meaning behind its 2 little words.

I'm sorry for being so mad

I'm sorry for not congratulating you

I'm sorry for insulting you

I'm sorry for not being there

I'm sorry for changing

I'm sorry for leaving

I'm...

Sorry.

Marcel clicked his phone off, tossing it on the bedside table where it buzzed almost immediately, but Marcel wasn't quite ready for Zayn's reply. Instead, he stretched his lengthy limbs over the district of the bed where he laid.

He was exhausted, of working that is. He'd been trying to pick up extra hours at Walmart and often worked late shifts into the dark hours of the night. Yes, being a singer was exhausting too, but even then he was doing something he loved. And he wasn't sure anyone loved scanning bar codes all day every day. Oh How Marcel missed singing. Sometimes his fingers would involuntarily twitch for the feeling of a microphone clasped between his digits. Marcel had cut back on singing so dramatically that it felt as if his throat was clamped painfully shut. The reason he kept himself from singing was self discipline. He was slowly piecing all of the things that had changed him for the worse together. All of the things that the boys disapproved of, and he was coming to realize that they had every right to be.

Not singing was his punishment. He had silently vowed to himself that he would not sing until he was back to Harry. It could be a matter of days or a matter of months; but Marcel knew the importance of trying to backtrack, of changing so that he could be himself again. The thought was strange to him, however. How management and the boys had him dress up as someone else in order to become himself. The irony behind it was a dark kind of amusing.

He had had a lot of time to think over the month that he was cast as the role of Marcel, and was able to pin point certain things in his life that he had drifted from as fame infested his ego. Such things as his friendliness. He used to smile happily and cheerfully at everyone, but now it was just glares sometimes accompanied by a sneer or grimace. Also his manners had changed. Marcel registered that he had not said 'please' or 'thank you' in so long the words tasted rotten on his tongue.

All of these things he knew that he needed to change. If he told either management or the boys that he knew how foul he had been he wasn't quite sure they would believe him. Marcel had come to perceive that life had been happier before he had carved a jerk out of himself. And the people he loved had been happier as well. He was determined to become a better man, a new and improved Harry, but he didn't know how. He couldn't just magically change because he was forced to live the life of someone else. He needed someone to show him, to guide him, to ground him and to make him feel again.

But whom?

An obnoxious buzzing sounded throughout the bedroom. Marcel's gaze had been locked on the white ceiling as he thought, but his attention was drawn back to his phone as the bothersome buzz ceased to stop. A groan vibrated huskily in his throat as he carelessly snatched the object from the table.