Drifter | (Harry Styles AU) • COMPLETE

Chapter 66.

[If you haven't already, check out my other fanfic DRIVE 😊]

Harry's POV

I walk through the muddy grass just as the rain begins to sprinkle down again. Thankfully I parked fairly close to the area my father will be laid to rest.

There's a large canopy hanging over the seating area right in front of the hole my father will be lowered down in, the large portrait of him and my mother is displayed along side a plethora of flowers Martin felt the need to spend money on. Clearly not wanting to wait for the problem child, the ceremony is already well under way. Everyone has already taken their seats, the priest already in the middle of whatever the hell goes down at funerals.

I take the first empty seat I see in the very back row away from everyone. Keeping my eyes on the priest, I begin to wonder if all this is even necessary. God couldn't even save my father, so why am I listening to this bullshit about how he's going to help me deal with my pain?

I can handle my shit just fine.

Once the priest has finished, he asks the large gathered group a question I completely let fly over my head. I clear my throat much louder then I thought it sounded, everyone turning their heads to look at me, and I can't help but to laugh. I laugh because this isn't just a gathering of people who loved my father and wish to honor his memory. No, this is actually a huge group of people I hate.

I see Mr. Wallshire near the middle section, his whore of a daughter, Monique next to him, then I see Elizabeth our LA secretary who annoys the living shit out of me everyday, we also have near the middle Anissa's father and mother, who I don't exactly hate but I hate their daughter for making me love her so much so it's practically the same thing, and then we have the very front row.

The front row is especially reserved for the people that could drop right into the pit of hell and I'd sit here happier than someone who's just discovered the secret to life. We have Martin, who I don't even care enough to think about why I hate him because he's dead to me, then we have Angelique, my ex who only used me to get close to my brother, who also occasionally rode my dick when she couldn't take the lame shit my brother was giving her, and on her other side we have Zayn, the annoying gossip queen.

"Would you like to say a few words young man?" The priest says to me with a smile, looking hopefully.

"Sure," I smirk, standing up, walking myself front and center of the group,"I mean he was my father after all I think I have a few words to spare on his behalf."

I see a few people I don't hate, like Mariano and his uncle Marco, sitting behind the front row giving me an encouraging yet sympathetic look while my brother and his wife have nothing but mortified expressions.

Angelique looks as if she's seen a ghost, probably because she thought I died years ago from the drug addiction she helped me get on. I give her a small wave to let her know I'm real, just as she whispers something into Martin's ear, making him stand immediately.

"Well let's see, where to even begin," I grin to no one in particular,"I've obviously known my father my entire life because unlike me, he's no dead beat..."

"Go sit back down," Martin demands, covering the tiny microphone on the portable podium I'm standing in front of.

"Why? Do you have something to say about our father?" I say smiling into his face, making the clear anger he's holding in grow, his face turning slightly red.

"Everyone my brother would like to say a few words about our father," I shout so everyone can hear despite not having the microphone,"He only saw him during Christmas so I'm sure it'll be quite short, then we can go back to me and what I have to say. Now I know this sounds odd because this was clearly my turn to say something but as many of you know my brother has a hard time differentiating what is mine and what is his, so we'll just let him have his moment," I laugh.