Flicker (H.S)

02.

02.

h a r r y.

"As the man-hunt for killer Harry Styles heats up, we met with a few of his childhood friends to gather information on his childhood. Statistics prove that children with a difficult home-life have a better chance turning to a life of crime, rather than working for their wealth. We got in touch with his closest childhood friend, Liam Payne, for comment. "He was always a troubled bloke." Payne recalls. "So were his siblings, Melanie and Luke. They were all screwed up, every last one of them." When we pressed a bit more, he told us that he wasn't surprised Harry ended up what he is now. A monster." - an excerpt from Killer Instinct, an article published in the New York Times. [Published August 1st, 2016]

________________________________________

That night, he drank.

He wanted to drink until his liver shriveled up, he wanted a bottle in his hands until his fingers forever were curled around the neck, he needed his throat to burn so badly that it would catch on fire.

Because she was gone, and his mind hasn't seemed to grasp the concept that she wasn't coming back. Not now, not ever.

So that night, he drank.

"Why weren't you in class this morning?" Liam questioned, his words slurring together in one continuous sentence. He popped yet another beer bottle open, knocking his head back and chugging down half of its contents in one go. Harry didn't know why Liam was drinking so much, but he decided not to ask. He didn't care much anyways. "Did ya' skip?"

The boy with the broken mind and absent girlfriend shook his head much more than necessary in response. "No I-I went and-" he hiccuped into his hand. "I went and signed up for that year two shit."

Liam widened his chocolate brown eyes. "But, like, you h-hate kids."

Harry shrugged and finished off his [eighth, ninth, tenth?] bottle, throwing it to the ground and leaning back against the couch. The room spun and spun and spun and spun... "Did Mel talk you into it?"

Harry giggled as the room continued to spin, and spin, and spin, and spin...

"Mel is so pretty, isn't she Liam?" he asked his best friend. "She's like... gorgeous and she looks just-just like me."

Liam's laugh echoed through his mind like a broken record.

"Yeah, I guess she is pretty gorgeous." He laughed a bit more, then stopped as a thought popped into his head. "But don't tell er' I said that, yeah?"

The boy with a pretty gorgeous sister and a broken mind and a never-coming-back girlfriend laughed again. "Yeah, whatever."

As Harry stood to get another bottle of Vodka, he fell straight on his arse.

And then he kept laughing because that night he drank and his girlfriend was never coming back and he fell straight on his arse. And Liam thought his sister was pretty gorgeous 'but don't tell er' I said that, yeah?"

"Hey Li?" He asked, still sitting on his bum in the middle of Liam's living room. He had no clue where Liam's parents were, because, like, they would kinda be pissed it they came home to find piss-arse drunk teenagers practically passed out on their floor. But he didn't really care much. He cocked his head to the side a bit, and Liam thought that he resembled a confused dog. "Do-do you think that anyone will love me again?"

"I am not drunk enough for this." Liam muttered, tripping across the floor as he went ahead and got the vodka himself, deciding that Harry wasn't going to and he might as well. The boy with the pretty gorgeous sister and never-coming-back girlfriend frowned.

"But what if no one loves me? What if she was the only one who l-loved me? What if-"

"Good Lord. I'm calling Mel. I cannot play Dr. Phil with you right now."

_______________________________

"I still can't believe you did this. How irresponsible are you? Do you realize that you have to get up at six in the fucking morning tomorrow?" Mel reprimanded, clutching the wheel so tightly in her anger that her small knuckles turned white. "Not only that, but you have to babysit five year olds, and you're gonna be shit-faced."

The streetlamps overhead cast nice shadows across her defined cheekbones, across her make-up-less face. She looked like their mum. He wished she didn't look like their mum.

"Hey Mel, guess what?"

Melanie cringed at the slur in his accented words, at the slouch in his usually straight spine. He's been getting drunk constantly, and she knows why. It's obvious.

But that night he drank.

And she is never coming back, yet his mind doesn't seem to grasp that concept yet.

"What, Harry?" She says, calming slightly as she sees her little brother sit up straighter in the passenger-side seat.

"Liam thinks you're pretty gorgeous."

The rest of the car ride was silent.

Mel dragged her mentally-broken brother who drank that night into her room, telling him to change into sleepwear as she made some tea. To which Harry wittily responded, 'I sleep naked'. Mel just smiled and flipped him off, tossing him a pair of pajama pants he kept in her room for nights like these, and disappeared into the kitchen.

The room was dark and without Mel there, and Harry was scared. Because that night he drank and darkness is what made his girlfriend never want to come back in the first place. So he ran as fast as he could to the light switch by the door, then bolted back to his position on his pretty gorgeous sister's bed, breathing heavily as alcohol continued to course through his veins.

Through hazy eyes, he took in the familiar sight of Mel's room.

The walls were painted a light yellow colour, and the whole space was dimly illuminated because when she designed the room she was 15 and wanted to be a hipster, so the only source of light are strings of fairy lights strung across her back wall. Posters of bands Harry had never heard of took up the wall with the door, and polaroid pictures of her and her friends took up the rest of the free space, posted anywhere that fit. You wouldn't be able to see the colour of the walls if it wasn't for that back wall.

So basically, Mel was ace.

"Harry, do you want milk in your tea?" She asked from down the hall. Harry nodded his head. Then, five minutes later, realized that she couldn't see him and answered with a too-loud 'yes please'.

Within two minutes, Mel came through the door balancing two cuppas whilst holding a spoon between her teeth, desperate not to make a second trip. Harry laughed at the sight and took a mug in his cold hands, using the spoon to fully stir the milk in. It was good. You know what isn't good?

"Jess is gone, Mellie." Harry tells his sister matter-of-factly, as though his was six rather than seventeen years old. "That isn't good."

Melanie stared at her brother silently for a moment before sighing and blowing the steam from her cup.

"I know Haz." She breathed. "I know."

sorry it was short but double update ayyyee

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love you all.

-el

[p.s, mel's room is on the side. enjoy :)]