Two Degrees of Separation

Chapter 11: Experiment

Author's Note: If you know me, I enjoy torturing Scott Hoying emotionally in my stories. Why do I do that? I have no idea. In real life, I worry about his every emotion. Oh well, you knew this was coming. Sorry in advance.

Chapter 11: Experiment

Scott felt an emptiness while Harry was gone. He couldn't even imagine how it might be in the future, with different touring schedules and responsibilities on opposite sides of the world. If Scott was having trouble with three days apart, he was definitely going to have trouble with three months apart.

Harry had been texting him, but they were few and far between. Harry had called him yesterday. Scott's heart had skipped a beat when he saw the FaceTime call come in. Nothing beat being close to Harry, however, and though Scott could see that he was trying, he knew that Harry was very busy, and Scott was beginning to feel like more of a burden than anything.

Luckily, he had a writing session with his band to take his mind off of this for a little while. Kevin's beatboxing was a welcome distraction in his too-quiet mind at the moment.

So tell me what's going on with him," Kirstie urged as they were taking a short break. She was sitting with her legs crossed, facing him on the couch, physically urging him to spill the tea. He laughed, trying to sound relaxed, but he was actually dying to tell her.

"Kirst, there isn't much to tell."

"It's been weeks since you met him, and he flat-out said on national TV that he was dating you. How is there nothing to tell?"

"I don't... suck and tell."

Kirstie's mouth was agape. Scott would have loved to snap a photo of it for blackmail later. She looked downright hilarious.

"You did not."

"Yeah... I kinda did, though." That earned him a slap on his chest. He rubbed at the point of collision, pouting. "Ouch." He moped.

"Anything more?" She asked, her voice high-pitched.

"Nah... I was kind of a tease," he shrugged, recounting how mean he had been.

"Keep him guessing. I like it, Hoying."

Two hours later, they had the beginnings of three original songs and two potential covers. Mitch looked down at his phone as they all sipped some water, feeling their throats starting to give out. It was getting late.

"Uh... Scott?" Mitch said, eyes wide, still gazing down at his phone.

"Mitch?" Scott asked, only half-joking.

"What's the status of you and Harry Styles?"

Scott's heart was pounding now. He didn't miss Kirstie blushing next to him, knowing what he had done.

"Um... well, we're dating, I guess?"

"Then why is there a photo of him with his tongue down Kendall Jenner's throat that's timestamped an hour ago?" Mitch's voice sounded frantic for his friend. Scott would have stopped to appreciate it if he hadn't been trying not to throw up all over himself in his state of panic.

His mind started to race. He didn't know why he felt so scandalized that it was a woman. He knew it was quite possible that Harry was bisexual, pan, he didn't care about that. But for some reason, as he wracked his brain, he couldn't think of a single man that Harry had been confirmed to date before him.

Shit. I was an experiment.

"Send that to me?" Scott asked, pleasantly surprised with how calm his own voice sounded. His own phone buzzed with the notification a moment later, and Mitch looked at him with sympathy.

The session wasn't nearly as productive after that. Scott had nothing to contribute, and the others were tiptoeing around him, falling into uncomfortable silence between singing.

Matt asked if he wanted to grab dinner as they all stood to collect their things. Scott adored Matt for caring so much, but he wanted nothing more than to tell him to leave him the fuck alone.

So he sat in his house. Alone. He had googled the image to see if perhaps it was an old picture that had been reposted in the tabloids. Nothing. All articles were posted today.

Harry Styles Cheating?

Scott Hoying Heartbroken!

Kendall Wants Harry Back!

Scott looked at the headlines and wanted to scream. He willed himself not to cry. He didn't want to give Harry anything more than he already had.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

New Search Results: Scott Hoying Duped – How the Singer Fell for the Wrong One

And then it buzzed again.

New Search Results: How Scott Hoying had his Heart Shattered in 3 Weeks' Time

His grip tightened on his phone. His eyes were burning with tears that he refused to let fall.

Fuck you for humiliating me, he thought. He put his phone in his lap and placed his face in his hands, trying to steady his own breathing.

His phone buzzed again. Not ready to see another headline, he ignored it. It continued to vibrate, however, and Scott finally gained enough courage to glance at the screen.

Harry Styles Wants to FaceTime.

Scott's hand moved without thinking. His phone hit the wall a moment later, falling unceremoniously on the floor. Scott was shaking now, watching the screen light up across the room before dimming a minute later.

He rolled over in his bed, praying that he could at least get some sleep tonight. Anything to forget this awful feeling, even for a moment. He felt stupid.

Somehow, he did fall asleep, missing the string of notifications that came rolling in over the next three hours, into early the next morning.

Harry: Tried to call you. Really need to speak with you, babe.

Harry: Please, Scott. I need to talk.

Harry: Please let me explain? 

Harry Styles wants to FaceTime.

Harry: Scott... it wasn't what it looked like, I promise you. I am crazy about you.

Harry: You're terrifying me.

Harry Styles wants to Facetime.

Harry: SCOTT, PLEASE.

And one text from a number that his phone did not recognize:

Hi Scott. It's Louis Tomlinson. I'm with Harry in New York... he really needs to speak with you. He's beside himself worried... Please let him know ur ok?

Scott woke the next morning and nervously picked the phone up off of the floor, afraid of the notifications that awaited him. He glazed over each one, and put his phone on his dresser, abandoning it there.

Harry Styles could go fuck himself, and so could Louis Tomlinson.

A/N: How'd it go? Poor Scott can never be happy in my brain.