Living in London

different

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My hands shook as I gently placed the black button down on the counter.

"Special occasion?" the girl at the register asked with a flirty smile as she scanned the shirt.

"Yeah." My voice sounded empty and I hated it. "A funeral."

Her smile dropped and I'm glad to say she had the decency to stop flirting with me. "I'm... I'm sorry. Was it someone you were close to?"

I swallowed thickly. "My girlfriend," I told her, handing over the correct money and grabbing the shirt before walking out of the store without another word.

It's my fault. I always knew I would end up hurting her. I didn't think it would be like this, though.

"Harry, you have to stop blaming yourself," Niall told me softly when I got back to the apartment. "The earthquake wasn't your fault."

That was all it took. I snapped.

"Yes, but I was the one who had to yell at her over something stupid! If I didn't do that, she would have survived it! Don't any of you understand that?! Why is it so hard to understand?! It's my fault! I killed her. It's my fault." I couldn't help it. I was sobbing into Niall's shoulder.

Ashamed. That's how I felt. I couldn't help it. I can't help anything anymore, apparently. It should have been me. I should be the one having the funeral tomorrow.

I pushed Niall away from me and stormed into her room, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. Maybe everything would just be normal and she would be sitting in there on her bed, smiling at me like usual.

It wasn't Ariadne, though. Someone else was in there. I rubbed my eyes, something was wrong with them- I couldn't make out this person's face. All I could see was someone sitting on Ari's bed, stroking Harry the Raccoon.

"Hello Harry."

"Who are you?" I stuttered, backing up against the wall. "You're not meant to be here."

They laughed lightly. "Right- I'm not. But I think you know who I am."

"No, I don't. Get out if here! This is her place, get out!"

They laughed again and it made me furious. Their laugh was cold. "Thanks for doing my dirty work, Harry. It was getting to be too hard and I was beginning to lose interest."

Then it hit me. "You're Number Withheld."

"Right again, Harry."

I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to see their face.

"It's your fault. It's all your fault."

People appeared, in the window. People with cameras and microphones. Paparazzi.

"Harry! It's all your fault."

"No," I told them weakly. "No it's not!"

"It's a your fault!"

The door to Ari's room opened and the boys appeared there, blocking the exit.

"Who are you trying to kid, Harry. We all know it's your fault," Louis said.

"You took her away from me, Harry. We could have been happy together. I could have kept her safe. It's all your fault."

"I didn't mean to," I told them weakly, as if it would somehow make it better. "It was an accident. I swear."

Number Withheld stood up and crossed to the doorway. Slowly, they leaned in and kissed Louis passionately.

"No!" I called out, reaching towards them. "Don't, Louis! That's Number Withheld!"