Song Tales - Sidemen and Friends Oneshots

The A Team - Harry

The pavement was coated in a light layer of snow that fell in the early hours of the morning; ice hiding away on the roadside trying not to be seen. It was the coldest day of the year, of the decade in fact, and Harry knew it. He laid there, shivering beneath his old sleeping bag. The constant drip from the house he slept against tapping against his head as he counted the seconds of the day pass with ease.

This wasn't a place Harry wanted to call home, it was only temporary. He had told himself that for the past two years. He had slowly begun to see the lies in his words. His pale skin becoming more drained as people walked past turning their noses up at him. If only he worked, if only his parents treated him. That was the thoughts of the commuters as they passed. He did work, but he lost his job just over a year ago. They found him sleeping in the bathroom, they threw him out immediately. He struggled to pay his rent as the inflation hit him hard. The cost of living rose whilst his wage decreased.

He got stuck in the ways of his workers, yet the boss caught him, and him alone. He came to work high, his love for drugs grew and grew. He couldn't stop, he was hooked. His workers laughed, they found it funny. Of course it would be Harry that got hooked, he didn't have the willpower to say no. Harry was everyone's yes man, or in the words of his ex-colleagues, everyone's bitch. He would do whatever anyone said, thats where his downfall began. He was 18 when they first introduced drugs into the situation, they all thought he'd say no. They were wrong, very wrong.

Four years down the line, the addiction is still going strong. He hates it, he wants to stop. He just doesn't know how. He's become weak. He never wanted this life, he didn't want to end up on the streets. He just wants it to be over. His family have washed their hands of him, he's just a waste of energy, dead to them. He wants to make a change, he doesn't know where to start. With no money to his name, he's just a man on the street with nothing but an addiction he can't rid himself of.

A torn raincoat wrapped around his thinning waist and gloves that were ripped covered his hands whilst he begged. He glanced up at the passers-by as a coin hit the bottom of his cup. A small thank you passed Harry's frozen lips, barely a word had passed them all week. His body aches from his conditions and the cold. He just wanted a home, he wanted a new life. He needed an angel to save him.

The snow continued to fall, day through to the night. Harry had no cover, no support. All he had was his raincoat and sleeping bag but that was nothing to battle the blizzard with. He kept praying that something would save him, that he would have a better life. Harry was left cold and alone. He had met his angel, as he passed through the sky. It was too cold to survive, this poor angel had to die.