This Thing Upon Me [Order The eBook] [Harry Styles]

Chapter 38

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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Now here you go again

You say you want your freedom...

Fleetwood Mac | Dreams

March 18, 2015

Hong Kong

"He kissed me," I'd said, lying without compunction. What? 'He kissed me'?!?! What the f—k was wrong with me?! Why did I say that?! I could smell the sh-t hit the fan the moment the words left my mouth. After Z stormed out of the hotel room with Han's card, it dawned upon me these petty games were no way to 'get back at him' for the Thailand blonde. I was only making things worse by seeking to avenge my bruised ego.

And I had never gone that far before. We had agreed long ago dudes were off limits. He was probably losing his mind now, and I wanted nothing more than to let him simmer and suffer like I suffered on the way to Hong Kong after seeing the pics and article. Particularly after seeing his desperate tweet attempting to make things right for Perrie. What about me? Who was gonna make things right for me? Where was my tweet of apology? My public redeclaration of love? F—k him. But also, I needed to tell him the truth before his mind took things too far. I knew how he got when things were bad, and I didn't want to be responsible for whatever happened next.

Yet, I was conflicted. He needed to hurt the way he'd hurt me. Holding her hand out in public? Knowing he'd be papped? Knowing he could never hold my hand in public?! Yet he jumps and gives that privilege to a total stranger?! I growled and punched myself in the head repeatedly. I hated him. And worse, I hated having to always be the bigger person. Always the more forgiving. Always the one to forget and move past. I snatched the robe off and flung it with a childish petulance onto the floor. I was sick to the back teeth of feeling this way. I just wanted to be okay, but that balance seemed to evade me now more than ever.

Dressed, I texted Preston that I was on my way, but he stopped me. He was being firmer than normal. He said Z wanted to be alone. That he'd been raging in his room. That the concierge had come up due to multiple complaints, and the only way he could get him to quiet down was to say they would be evicted.

Now he had specifically been instructed to deter me if I tried to come over, and Preston was not a weak-willed man. His salary depended on it. There was nothing more I could do. I'd have to wait until he was willing to see me, which probably wouldn't be for a while. We were headed to Manila in a few days, and I decided I'd catch up with him on the ride to the plane. That way he'd have a few days to cool off.

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"You've got my devotion...

But man, I can hate you sometimes..."

Harry | Fine Line

I awoke to a 'wake-up' call direct from management. Apparently Zayn was leaving the tour due to stress. He was expected to return by the South Africa leg in Cape Town (at the earliest.) My soul plummeted. What had I done? Instantly, I blamed myself. There was no way I hadn't provoked him to this point. He was leaving? So soon? What about the fans? The ones who paid to see him specifically??