FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

TWENTY-ONE.

JANUARY, 2019. CONT.

He's in Japan.

Been there since December and decided to stay for his upcoming birthday. Apparently it's really pretty over there.

You'd love it here, one of his messages read.

I thought I could ignore him. Standing outside of that club with those tears streaming down my face, I told myself:

Do not fucking hit send.

But I did. And all the way in Japan, I knew he was reading the Happy New Year, H. I miss you, too message with the smuggest expression.

I thought I'd be mad at him. If anything, I'm more mad at myself. He still has that powerful hold on me. I should have just ignored him or left him on read.

I kept telling myself he didn't deserve to hear from me again. I was sure I could never speak to him again and that I was better than that.

But then again, he didn't deserve the shit I tried to pull on him. I was going to walk out on him. He had every right to be pissed.

I feel stupid, though. I promised myself I wouldn't let him in my life ever again. Yet, here I am, asking him what he's done so far in Japan.

I've been doing better. I've been happier. My life has been great. I knew letting him back in would be a mistake. It would turn everything upside down again.

But I don't know who I am without him. And I really fucking hate myself for that.

H: Eating...reading...learning Japanese (but failing). Those sort of things.

H: I've also been writing music. I want to drop an album this year.

Son of a bitch.

How great! Glad you're coming back soon. I'm sure they all miss you. You've been pretty MIA.

I put my phone down and return to my eyeliner. I have to head to set soon but I typically do my own makeup. Which makes me late 99% of the time.

"Who have you been texting? I swear I heard your phone buzz like a million times." River groans from
the bed where he lies under the covers.

He's stretching out and rubbing his eyes. He looks utterly hungover. Well, he is.

"Well look who's up." I laugh. "Advil's on your nightstand."

He thanks me and downs the pills.

"So who's blowing up your phone? As the kids say." He snickers.

"Blair. I'm late for work." I quickly say, finishing my eyes.

"Oh, well you better hurry." He urges.

"Right. Okay, I'll see you later." I rush up, heading to the door.

"Love you!"

-

"I'm so tired." Blair whines.

We sit on set, waiting for our call time. I keep checking my phone.

"You went pretty hard last night." I laugh, flicking a piece of lint off me.

Waiting for him to return my message like a school girl with a crush. What is the absolute matter with me?

"To be fair I didn't know there was vodka in half the drinks I had." She shrugs.

"Which is why you get your own instead of making other people do it."