assistance highly needed ☯ harry styles au

chapter thirteen

chapter thirteen

Harry had been calling me nonstop but I couldn't stir up the courage to pick up. I fucked his mate! Even though we aren't technically together I can't look at myself. But I'm also still furious he had an affair. And while I was pregnant? I gave him way too many chances and he threw it all away. How am I supposed to respect someone who doesn't even respect me. Faith was sleeping - thank God for Jocelyn who helped - and I was in the living room staring at the ceiling. I sighed, curling into a little ball.

Harry's P.O.V:

"Fuck you, and everyone, and just screw you!" I slurred, grabbing onto Louis shirt. I took a swig of the bottle of Jack Daniels held firmly in my hand.

"Harry, I think it's time you stop drinking, okay?" Louis breathed, attempting to pry the bottle from my hands. I yanked my arm, Louis shaking his head. I downed the bottle, throwing it into the dumpster in the alley. The music from the club vibrated the walls.

"Let's go back inside Harry. The boys are probably wondering where we are." Louis said, grabbing my arm, as we entered the booming club. Club Karma, I thought, what a fucking name since I deserve all the karma being thrown at me. Louis and I pushed through several sweaty bodies. We finally found the boys who were seated at the bar. Ashton snogging some random chick named Jazmine or whatever. My head pounded and I wanted to throw up.

"Fuckin' hell. Let's leave already, my head is killing me." I roared through the loud music.

No one heard me, everyone too preoccupied in their phones or drinks. I staggered through the crowd, finally getting out of that disgusting place. Everything seemed blurry, my head definitely out of whack. I grabbed my phone, calling Delilah. After several tries she still didn't pick up so I gave up. The whole situation angered me.

"Fuck you! Fuck life, fuck everything, what is wrong with me?" I screamed as paps surfaced catching every single moment. I scoffed shoving a random guy who had a camera in my face to the floor.

"Harry, why'd you do that for?"

"Harry Styles, is it true Delilah's having baby number two?"

"Styles when's the wedding?"

"Harry, your fans say Delilah's a slut, is it true?"

The last comment angered me the most as I turned around and punched the pap right in the nose. He fell back onto the floor but clutched his camera tightly, not wanting today's events to be deleted. "Don't ever call Delilah a slut" I spat, pushing through the ever growing crowd of paparazzi. I tried hailing a cab, and once I did I gave the driver the address and waited for me to finally be home.

But alone.
_______________

DELILAH'S P.O.V:

I scrolled through my laptop to see that the most trending thing on Twitter is a perky teenage magazine's SugarBop new headline, Harry Paparazzi Freakout!. I clicked the link provided to see footage and pictures of Harry's little fiasco last night. I slammed the laptop shut and rubbed my face in stress.

"What am I going to do?" I said, my face becoming hot as my eyes began to water. I was scared about the whole Michael thing, not to mention Harry's spazzing out on everyone like a hurricane. I did what I thought was the only right thing to do. I grabbed my phone, dialing the oh-so-familiar number that's been dialed hundreds of times before. A few rings later, a raspy voice picked up.

"Hello?" they said, yawning on the other line.

"Hey Harry. We need to talk."