Speed ➢ harry styles

Ch. 1 ~ New Years

The narrow hallway of the penthouse flat was bustling with elite New Year's eve party-goers. I spotted my friend Nick Grimshaw leaning into some blonde haired Burberry model near the dining room. He caught my eye and shot me a thumbs up implying things were going well. I guess I'd be left alone, given that my pal abandoned me so he could hit on the opposite sex. It was fine with me but a part of me wished I had just gone with Niall and Liam to Funky Buddha's annual New Year's Eve bash, a more casual event, but I couldn't turn Nick down. So here I was sitting on a pricey looking leather chaise lounge next to a couple of gossiping socialites at Alexandra Shulman's (editor of British Vogue) New Year's eve party, while the friend that pleaded I accompanied him to this party was busy trying to woo a fair maiden. I chuckled to myself at this remark I'd made.

Glasses filled with expensive wine clinked and people ever so often glimpsed at the massive clock on the living room wall. The clock lit up, brightly displaying the time and was probably bought solely for the occasion. It was 11:47 pm. and we were thirteen minutes away from welcoming in the new year. Though the flat was massive, the growing number of guests started to gather around in one area and the room began to feel a bit clammy. Deciding that I could use some fresh air, I headed toward the balcony. I leaned over the railing and sipped on my drink. The Big Ben was visible from where I stood but not enough that I could read the clock. I glanced at my watch. It was 11:52 and the guests were all getting a bit antsy as the the clock got closer and closer to striking midnight.

As I heard some people counting down behind me I couldn't help but think that time was a funny little thing. As Einstein had put it, "time is an illusion" and ever since I'd read this quote whilst typing up an essay in some English class as a 8th year student, I tended to think about it a lot. Well, when I had time to myself, which I occasionally did when the rest of the boys would fall asleep or go into their personal corners of the tour bus for solitude of their own.

Once when I was at a charity event I met a man that told me I had it all, a supportive family, four of the best friends/bandmates I could wish for, talent, fame, and fortune. I nodded politely at the time wondering where he was going with this. Finally he told me something I might never forget, "Styles, you're a man who has everything. Everything but time, that is." And with that he walked away. Baffled by this statement, I tried to go after him but before I had time to react he was nowhere to be seen. That was without a doubt, one of the strangest encounters I've ever had. I never saw the man again after that day. 

Suddenly I felt a hand grab my shoulder and bring me back to reality. It was Nick. "There you are Harry, I've been looking for you. Come on let's get you another drink it's almost midnight." He handed me a cocktail and we watched the clock. "56,55,54..." Nick chanted. The rest of the guests all joined in on the countdown. Couples held each other close and a few people were already drunk and struggled to remain on their feet. "4,3,2...1!!" Nick and I shouted in unison. The clock displayed the time 12:00 and people faced the floor to ceiling windows to watch the fireworks display near the Big Ben and London Eye. I noticed the Burberry model that Nick was chatting up kissing a tall, burly man with a soul patch. Nick saw me looking and said simply, "Turns out, she had a boyfriend..." I burst out laughing and Nick shot me a look of dismay. "Yeah, yeah laugh all you want you little shit." he muttered chugging down another vodka cocktail.

"Gee, mate if you want I can be your wingman," I offered.  

"Fuck it. I don't care anymore. Let's get drunk," he stated. And that was that.