Inciting Incident (Harry Styles)

Chapter 9

I wanna be drunk when I wake up
   on the right side of the wrong bed

                                                                          ***

Guilt was the first emotion that swarms my body as soon as I fall forcefully out of my deep slumber. The next was absolute death.

I lifted my very heavy head slowly and sat on the edge of my bed as Gemma walked in slowly, a blanket around her shoulders causing a little hood over her head. She looked like a little Eskimo.

I have no idea how we got home, when we got home or how much I drank. I grabbed a blanket and did the same over my shoulders as Gemma sat next to me. "I'm never drinking that much again." I groan, feeling very sorry for myself right now. "Scratch that, I'm never drinking again. period"

"I agree, let's watch Jeremy Kyle on the TV until we're sick of seeing people with no teeth," Gemma replies, sounding like she's feeling sorry for herself as well. We dragged ourselves downstairs and plonked ourselves on the sofa.

We just sat in silence watching random people argue on the television, whilst downing loads of glasses of water. After a few episodes, Harry came skipping down the stairs and sat on the chair looking pleased with himself.

"Why are you so chipper this morning?" I glare at him, why is he feeling okay and I am forced to feel so close to death I can hear Satan calling me.

Harry was wearing a white t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms with his dark navy slippers.

"Well, I wasn't silly and drank too much that I couldn't handle it." He joked as I flipped him off. "Don't hate me because you ain't me."

"I regret nothing" I lie secretly seething through my teeth. This is not fair it was his stupid nomination we were celebrating not mine.

" Because you don't remember what you're supposed to forget," He says knowingly.

Truth is I, unfortunately, do remember everything and god I wish I didn't. I'm secretly hoping I am in a bad dream and I am about to wake up but the pain in my head and swirling of alcohol in my stomach is way too real to be a dream. I am so disappointed in myself I can't even bear to look in his direction so instead, I trace the pattern of my stripy pajamas which I now have noticed are inside out.

"Stop shouting!" Gemma snapped, hiding under the blanket, but then quickly popped her head back up and had a questioning expression on her face. "Where did you two go off to last night? You were gone for a while."

"Jordan had a panic attack, I took her outside to calm her down. She was actually being nice to me for once, before and after her panic attack." Harry made sure to insinuate the "before" and "After", sounding surprised as I glared at him. "She even complimented me on how I looked."

The pillow I was lay on moments ago then goes flying across the room to hit him in the face as I smirk triumphantly.

"I felt obliged because you said that I looked nice, I was being polite. So don't flatter yourself." I rolled my eyes as I spoke still quite proud that the pillow I threw actually hit him.

"Do I sense you two will actually become friends at some point?" Gemma asked looking at both of us in shock as I sigh loudly.

"Don't be silly Gem, I felt sorry because of the shit Jordan went through. So don't get used to it." Harry spat, before getting up and storming into the kitchen.

Well, that hurt. Not the fact he's being arrogant again, that was to be expected. But the fact he just brushed my problem under the carpet. And I didn't ask for his sympathy he gave it to me on his own accord; Drunk Harry and Drunk me were clearly more compatible to be civil than sober us. It was almost like he was a completely different person.