Broken Dreams ✓

oo | just listen to me

a prelude
to
BROKEN DREAMS

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A POLICE STATION IN CENTRAL LONDON, A SUNDAY, APRIL, 2016

SUSPECT (Harry Styles) TAKEN INTO CUSTODY,

BEING DRAGGED INTO THE INTERVIEW ROOM BY DETECTIVE SARGENT Dyer. DETECTIVE INSPECTOR Lawson, POLICE CONSTABLE Martin AND INTERNATIONAL LIASONS OFFICER Halsden WATCHING INTERROGATION IN ADJACENT ROOM.

"You found out about her and Jaime, didn't you Styles?" Dyer coaxes. "How did it feel to know the woman you loved so very dearly was having an affair? It must've made you crazy, your woman fucking another man, every night you were out there on her behalf searching and she was at home fucking your brother. How did it feel when you found out at the rehearsal dinner? Must've made your blood boil, enough to kill and her beloved along with her?"

"NO!" Styles seethed through clenched teeth.

"Then you went to her house, stabbed her, and then you set her flat on fire, didn't you?"

"You've got this all wrong, completely WRONG. I didn't do it. I didn't kill her. Please, you've got to believe me, you have to. Please, just listen to me." He said, his hands frantically rattling on the metallic table, the cuffs pulling on his wrists painfully.

The door opened and a police man entered the room holding some files. Dyer zoned his eyes on the intruder. "Martin, can't you see I'm in the middle of an interrogation. You can wait. Get out."

"No, sir. I can't. Lawson thinks you should have a look at these before you proceed." Martin says giving Dyer the yellow files.

"Lawson?" Dyer asks. If Lawson says he should look at it, he believes he should, because Lawson's good at his job.

Dyer's eyes flicker over the contents. Harry Styles' DNA has been found on the victims' bodies and the murder weapon. "Oh Styles, you're going down," he muttered as he eyed the newest piece of paper. It's a done, sealed deal. No need for a confession now.

Harry Styles has been officially charged with double murder.

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HER MAJESTY'S PRISON PENTONVILLE, A SUNDAY, CHRISTMAS EVE, 2017

INMATE (Harry Styles) IN THE SICK BAY, DOCTOR Reid, ATTENDING.

"Harry, what seems to be the problem?" Doctor Reid asked, her tone soft, used to seeing the young man in her quarters.

"Doc, I haven't got much time," he said taking an A4 brown envelope from under his shirt. "Here take this, give it to DS Dyer. I trust you." He holds it out to the doctor who stares at it cautiously. "Come on doc, please tell Dyer to read it carefully." Hesitantly the doctor takes the envelope and upon closer inspection feels the back of the envelope is wet. She turns it around to see a small red stain.

Harry knows no one else is capable of doing what he needs to be done but Doctor Reid. She's the only person that listened to him. She's the only person that believes him. She's the only person who won't screw him over in this place (because she's not on their payroll unlike everyone else official).