Vulnerable (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Ch. 4

*Earlier that day*

Harry's P.O.V

"Now stopping at West Chester Train Station." Announced a woman through the speaker.

I got up from my seat holding on to the poles and to each seat to keep my balance as the train was making its stop. I help my luggage close to me to try to easily walk through the aisle.

When the train finally stopped the automatic doors opened and I walked out and the hot air of August hit me once more.

I had to find Christopher and move on for everything that happened back in Holmes Chapel. I was in Pennsylvania, in America now and I couldn't screw this up.

I've actually been here before, about four years ago maybe when I was just turning fourteen. I remember practically begging Chris to take, mom and dad thought it was a splendid idea to travel with my brother. It wasn't as fun as I thought, three weeks here and Chris was usually going out to meetings for some job, or with his friends. That's when I met Keith and Max. They were decent guys, trouble makers, but closest things I had to friends when I spent the time here.

When we finally had to leave, I was more than ready, but when we finally got home, the real change and struggle had been brought upon us. Mom and dad fought more than usual and one day dad was just done with everything, done with us. He left and mother had to move on quick. He wasn't a great man, and he was horrible to her, so Chris was easily able to move our family on.

But now I am here, four years later, with no brother. Mom is out back in the U.K, but I had moved out with Chris. I felt like I should've at least told her where I was going, she found out soon enough about the death of her son and I tried to comfort her. Now I'm hit with a pang of guilt and grief, but I'm old enough to go on my own now, seeing my mother would only bring back the terrible memories.

This place, West Chester Pennsylvania seems so incomparable, and odd, especially compared to my old home. Old beaten up cars, abandoned in parking lots, people I pass just look ahead, cold stares, as if they're robots, or as if they didn't see me at all.

I reach into my pockets to find the old crumbled piece of paper that contains the information I need to find James Evans. He was a very good friend of Christopher and they met when we came to America, again, four years back. He must be very trust worthy if my brothers last request was for me to find this guy.

The memory of of Chris closing his eyes, unable to weep, bloody, and dead comes in to play in my head. I walk onward, with the piece of paper in hands and a small luggage with clothes and essentials I couldn't dare to leave.

I continue the walk, trying to stop any decent person I see to ask if perhaps they knew James.

I see this blonde girl, maybe around my age it seems and I stop her. "Sorry to bother you ma'am, but do you know James Evans?"

"Ma'am?" She smirks questioningly, "well that's a first that I've ever been addressed that way." She steps closer, and seeing the shorts and leather jacket over her shoulders, even though it was the middle of august, made me have some sort of clue as to why she's never been spoken to that way.

"Please, if you could just answer the question"

"Answer the question, what?" She responds slyly

"Answer the god damn question ma'am." I say frustrated and already annoyed.

"Feisty," she chuckles "But yes, I know James, surprisingly. Although I think he's working right now."

"Do you happen to know where he works?" I ask eager and hoping we're talking about the same James and that's she's not just messing around with me.