Broken-a Haylor fanfiction

Chapter 44

Taylor's POV

A month. 

Harry and I hadn't spoken since a month ago when he told me to leave him alone. Which was what I was doing. Sometimes, I tried to talk to him, to make it up to him. But he wasn't receptive. I saw him frequently though. I never knew if he saw me some of those times, but I saw him.

His mental state was decaying. That was clear to see. I felt like it was partly my fault, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was cutting himself again, but I never asked.

How could I?

It wasn't like he wanted to talk to me. He didn't talk to Louis about it either. I wasn't sure why Harry didn't, but Louis didn't take it well. 

I wasn't sure what to do anymore. Harry wouldn't open up to me, and Louis was falling apart too.

So I prayed. I prayed to God that someone would come and help Harry. For if Harry was helped, Louis would feel better too. And so would I, as selfish as that sounded.

Devin's POV

Today was the day that I would be released from jail. I walked out, free for once, and the first thing I did:

Call my one and only friend, Lady Gaga.

She picked up immediately, "Hello?"

"Hi, Stefani. It's me, Devin."

"You've been released?" Somehow, she still decided to be my friend, despite me being a convicted criminal.

"Yeah, how have you been?"

"Good. I-" she cut herself off. "Can you call me back later? I need to do something right now."

"Yeah. What's going on?"

"I'll explain later. If I don't do something now, it'll be too late. Bye." She hung up, and I wondered what the emergency was.

Lady Gaga's POV

I asked, "You've been released?" I know it seems strange that I'm friends with someone who just got out of jail, but I knew he regretted what he did and that he was a good person, so who was I to make judgments?

"Yeah, how have you been?" he asked, and I smiled at how sweet it was for him to ask me that first.

I answered. "Good. I-" I cut myself off as I saw a man with curly, brown hair burst into tears. I vaguely recognized him to be Harry Styles. He was wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. I watched him squeeze his wrist, probably to inflict pain, and then run out. Knowing I needed to stop him from doing something he'd regret, I said, "Can you call me back later? I need to do something right now."

"Yeah. What's going on?"

I was grateful that he was being so thoughtful, and told him a brief summary before hanging up and running after that man.

When I finally found him, blood was dripping from his wrist, and he was holding a paper, covered in blood in his other hand.

I was too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I hope you enjoyed this part. Thank you to everyone who has read this. Feel free to vote or comment.