Complexity h.s

Chapter 1

Harry's POV

"I told you I'm not fucking going." "Harry, the decision has been made. Your doctor said it'd be best if you took some time off." Louis sighed in a frustrated tone. 

"I don't need time off!" I yelled, angrily, trying walk around my fellow bandmates who have seemingly turned against me. Liam put out his arm and blocked me from reentering the plane I had just been pushed off of.

"As recommended by the doctor, Mr. Harry Styles should take a extended rest from friends and family, performing, night clubbing, drinking excessive alcohol and areas and people that would provoke violence and other ill-natured behaviors." Liam read from the official piece of paper for probably the two hundredth time in the past twenty four hours alone. 

"I don't do any of that." I spat as we stood in the tiny airport, my suitcase beside me and my duffle bag over my shoulder.

"You just need to get away for a little while. This whole rockstar life has gotten to your head." Niall said, giving me a saddened look.

 "But why do I need to get away here?!?" "It's quiet, peaceful, I doubt there's that many people who would recognize you, and the paparazzi won't ever find you here. They're expecting you to head home and stay with family or something, not here." Liam added. "Of course not here, what is this place anyway?! Le Saint?"

"It's just a small little french town that's far from Paris and especially far from London. You need to clear your head out." "I'm fine!" "You're not fine Harry!" Louis screamed rather loud, making several heads turn in our direction. I stared down my best friend and he looked rather upset. "All the drinking, the drugs, the parties, the girls. We can't take it anymore. You've gotten in so many bar fights I'm surprised you're not seriously scarred or dead yet. You're in a downward spiral and we're scared. While you're here you can really see what life is all about, not the drugs the girls or the parties. We don't want to lose you." his lip quivered at the end of his sentence.

"I don't do drugs I've only smoked weed a few-" "Harry, you're not fooling anyone. I think your nose still has coke on it." "Fine, I'll stay here. Not for long though!" "That's all we need for now, trust me, you'll like it here." Liam said, patting my shoulder before pulling me in for a massive hug. Everyone else joined in, and we remained like that for a minute before I squirmed out of it.

 "I'll see you guys on the other side then." "We'll come visit soon!" Louis said cheerily as they turned their backs and re-boarded our band's private plane. They were going to continue the south Asia tour while I was gone. What a load of absolute bullshit.

I sighed heavily and reached into my jacket pocket for the hotel address. I still can't believe they dumped me here. Le Saint, France. A village seven hours from Paris and in some region called Bretagne. And apparently it had nothing to make me a 'bad person'. I admit I had gotten a little out of hand, but not enough to be exiled in some isolated city.

 I trudged out of the airport and out to the arrivals lane, crawling into the first cab I saw and giving the man the address to the house I would be staying at. It was an hour drive, and it was rather silent after the cab driver learned I spoke as much French as a two year old. We arrived on a small cobblestone street with several stone houses lined up next to each other with slated roofs. 

He stopped abruptly in what I presumed was my new living location. I thanked and paid him before hauling my luggage out of the small car and onto the sidewalk. I opened the little front gate and walked up several steps to the front door, which was painted a cheerful blue. Disgusting. I tried my key out and it worked, the door swinging wide open. I dropped my luggage at the foyer and shut the door. I explored the main floor, which consisted of a living room with a small flat screen tv, a brightly painted kitchen and a room covered with shelves and filled to the rim with books, and a small window seat looking out into the rather pretty garden out back.

 Downstairs was a simple basement, and upstairs had 3 bedrooms and one bathroom. Exhausted, I trudged up the stairs with my stuff and dumped them in the biggest room, painted a sea blue-grey with dark wooden furniture. I quickly stripped down to my boxers and crawled into bed. Before long I was fast asleep.

    I awoke groggily several hours later, and it was only 9 pm. It was still bright out, and I had been told previously by my manager that the sun stays out rather long here. It was rather hot in the room, so I opened up the window to let a cold breeze in. 

Holy shit was it cold outside I thought to myself. I thought it was July, not November! I looked out the window to see the town that was a short walk away. There has to be a bar there or something. I showered and changed into some black  jeans, a white t shirt with my brown leather shoes and a black jacket to stay warm.

 I lock up my new residence and headed blindly into town. Upon arriving, I walked the streets aimlessly,desperately searching for a place that served alcohol and wasn't a quaint cafe or restaurant. Finally, near the end of a small street was a bar. I walked in quickly and sat down at the table top. "Bonjour Monsieur.""Bonjour." I replied as he handed me a menu of drinks. I pointed out immediately which one I wanted, the menu being bi-lingual made it quite easy. 

I think that went on for about two weeks. With no access to drugs, alcohol was my only habit that I could maintain here. It was a routine, I hit the bar at 4 in the evening, and would stay till it closed at three in the morning, then I would sleep till two, shower, and repeat. Towards the end I made some progress, I learned enough language to buy bottles of liquor at the store, so lots of my drinking could be done at home. 

But it had been a few days since I went outside of my house, so I decided to head to the bar. 

Maurice, the bartender, looked at me with a sad smile before going to make my drink without a word. I was used to the disappointed eyes, they didn't bother me. Soon he returned with my drink, and let the problems and my current situation slip away with every sip.