So, What? // 1D AU ✓

Chapter 6

~Na na na na na na na, I wanna start a fight,

Na na na na na na na, I wanna start a fight~

Not knowing where to find Cole, his only option was to go back to the club. Now that his breathing was regulated and he felt like he was dressed in the part of who he really was, Harry waited in line until he was let back in. Even though he had only been gone for less than an hour, there was hardly enough room to breathe and move around.

The first stop he made was back to the table, just in case the group had made their way back around. But there was a couple laying on the table making out. Harry rolled his eyes and decided to see if Niall had any other bright ideas. Hopefully he was still working.

Harry's black Vans clomped down the steps towards the only blonde head in the bar, swamped in people. He pushed through everyone, despite their angry shouts. "Niall!" He yelled.

He turned from mixing a drink and paused for a brief second before continuing on. "I thought you were off on your mission!"

"I don't know how to find him!"

"Give me two seconds!" Niall went into overdrive, taking drink orders and debit cards until he could finally move to a slower section where Harry could at least take a seat. "Wow, nice glow-up. Did an inhaler really do all that?"

"And a hundred bucks," Harry shrugged, and then was silent while Niall took an order. "I don't think I can do this, Niall. He's my husband, and we're married, and I'm...weak. I'm weak. Look at me. I'm here for looks, not for anything else. Not to be the love of someone's life or the best singer in the world. I'm just the boy with the curls and the makeup."

Niall heard bits and pieces, and then looked at Harry and sighed. "You, sir, need another confidence boost." His eyes flicked up to the drink menu, and Niall cleared his throat. "We're going to the alley, follow me." Taking his lead, Harry followed him towards the exit sign that he had had his mental breakdown in earlier. "I want you to stay here for one minute and think really angry thoughts. Every bad thing this guy has ever done to you." Niall, this man he didn't know, in an apron and nametag, put his hands on his shoulders. "Like Hulk angry, Harry. Okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it. Seriously, like 60 seconds, and I'll be back."

Harry stood alone in the alley, shuffling his legs to try and avoid the goosebumps from the chill of the night air. He took out his phone, dying to check again. But nothing. No messages. So he decided that it was finally time to leave an angry voicemail. He hadn't up to that point, but if he was going to follow Niall's faithful orders - they were the best suggestions and guidance he had received all night - then he had to start somewhere.

So biting his nice guy personality down, he raged out when the voicemail beep went live. "When I see you Cole, I'm going to rip your head off of your shoulders. You piece of shit - how could you fucking do all of this to me? Bully me into giving up music and makeup and leaving my family behind? You knew I didn't want to move to L.A! You know I hate interior design. And I am tired of putting you before me." Before he went too far as to suggest divorce, he hung up and then smiled. That felt good.