INDIGO➵Harry Styles

1 ___THE BIKE___

For many years, I had saved money, as I had saved my memories. My savings allowed me to begin whatever it was I was beginning without concern of spending and survival. All I needed was a start.

The night I'd left my home, I'd taken my brother, Zayn's new motorbike with me. I'd never gotten in trouble; I'd had by flare-ups, as any teenager does, but trouble had never characterised me - that was for Zayn. I often joked that he was a scoundrel, breaking rules, charging through curfews and earning many girls' smiles along the way. He thrived on trouble, oh, he lived for it, but beneath the troublemaker was a genuinely good young man. I could always count on my older brother for a warm smile when things were hard or uncertain. That smile showed that the rule-breaking was all a game, of which causing any real damage was never a part. He would never hurt someone on purpose, all of us could see it in that wide, glowing smile.

My parents would sometimes grow exasperated with him, sighing and frowning. They scowled and crossed their arms when they asked him to account for his mischief, and later when they worried about what to do with him. But I knew, as did they, that we could never really change him; nor did we want to. The spark that forever glimmered in the gold of his eyes brightened any room he entered, a contagious warmth and energy that engulfed all those that surrounded him. The effect was the same and even stronger on me in particular. There was nothing I could deny him, and no time I could resist smiling when he did. I just smiled and shook my head knowingly when he broke the rules again, knowing that I could still count on my brother for anything. When all was said and done, Zayn was strong and loyal.

When he'd arrived home one day with a new motorbike, my reaction was the same one I always had saved just for him. A knowing grin in the background of my parents' disapproval. It was hard to deny the glossy sheen of the black metal in the sculpture of its sharp beauty.

I had always behaved perfectly, being a stable and dependable part of my household to counterbalance Zayn. Ella was the same in this respect. Yet the arrival of my brother's most recent acquisition separated me from Ella. She had settled, after finding a husband to build a future with, with the security she had constructed as she had been raised. But I had the urge to defy mine for some reason I could not yet explain.

With that, the moonlight often found Zayn and I riding on the highway, speeding through the night on his motorbike. He taught me how to use it and, apart from the fun we had, to preserve my safety with it. The secret nature of our rides was never exposed by my parents knowing, or if they did, they never addressed it. Maybe they saw that they had to allow me this one freedom.

At first, I clung tightly onto Zayn's waist, my face buried in his shoulder as gusts of wind whooshed over my body. The smokey scent of his leather jacket as I clung to him filled my senses with safety and familiarity. Soon, I could open my arms wide, without fear, feeling the night air trickle through my fingers as we carved our swift, unstoppable path through it. We were invincible then, young and carefree and drunk on being so. I was intoxicated by the fresh sting of danger, of breaking the rules I had constantly followed, beneath the watchful gaze of the stars over the highway. It wasn't long before I could drive myself, backed by Zayn's brotherly pride.

And now, as I left all I knew behind, with Zayn's motorcycle to convey me to my escape, I understood his craving for trouble. It would be the only way to stay alive, to live to become a new person, to rebuild myself. I understood the risk and danger that he constantly sought. They were part of me now, fighting to become all of me as I warred on how to shape myself after the past Indigo had crumbled. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be someone; I just couldn't be myself, of that I was certain, and maybe for a while I wanted to just be no one. I never wanted to hurt those that I had left behind, but no one is who I would have to be.

I understand now. I need this. I will pay you back someday. Until then, I need this to take me to a new beginning. I love you. And Mom, Dad, and Ella.

I'm sorry.

Indigo

I couldn't write the letters to form goodbye. My hands trembled too much when I attempted to. I gave up, leaving the note on Zayn's helmet, carefully setting it on the shelf in the garage. I couldn't stop myself from holding it for a few more moments, admiring the sleek black that had accompanied us in our carefree nights. I ran my fingers over it one last time, affectionately taking in every angle, taking in every memory of my brother and my whole family. I tore myself away from it before I could change my mind. This would be the last time I would allow myself any kind of hesitation for a long time. I strapped my helmet on and steadied myself on the bike.

It had to take me away.

And so it did.