***Harry Styles***
Friday, August 17th, 2012 – North London, England

I spent a lot of the rest of the day on the phone with Management doing damage control. The band’s public relations department released a statement saying the attempted suicide accusations were completely false (which is also what I had told Management), and that was really the best we could do until the next celebrity did something to take the attention off of me. Our day of hanging out with the guys hadn’t really gone to plan, so Niall and Zayn left and Liam and Gemma stayed. The four of us turned on a scary movie and Louis held me in his arms the entire time. He loved watching scary movies with me because I would get so scared and he got to feel like he was “protecting” me. I hated scary movies, but I loved how Louis comforted me during them, so I didn’t protest watching them as much as I used to. I couldn’t help but think about how great Louis was being through all of this – he had gotten hurt, too, but was too busy worrying about me to complain. I knew it would catch up to him, but in the mean time I just needed to remember to tell him how much I appreciated him.

We set Gemma up to sleep in the guest room that Liam wasn’t staying in, then Louis and I went up to his room and stripped down to our shorts before climbing in bed. He held me in silence for a long time, but we both knew the other one was still awake. I was trying to decide if I would rather be in his arms or dead like everyone else seemed to want. I shifted uncomfortably at that thought.

“Love?” Louis asked me, noting my awkward movement. I said nothing, my back turned towards him. He leaned up and peered over my cheek, brushing my hair back so he could see my eyes. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed it down against the bed so I was laying on my back, and he started stroking my hair as he looked down at me. “Talk to me,” he said, obviously reading something in my face.

“Do I make your life harder?” I asked Louis. He blinked, surprised by the question.

“What?” he asked. “Harry, you make my life worth living.”

“I didn’t try to kill myself in order to leave you, you know,” I told him. I had wanted to make sure that was clear. A tear slid down my cheek as I said that.

“I know,” Louis bent down and kissed my tear away, which only caused more to well up in my eyes from his gesture. “But you can’t leave me, Harry, you’re not allowed to, ever, whether I’m the reason or not. We’ll find your happiness, Love, I promise.” I fell asleep not long after that, wishing that was true.

Gemma went home the next day, having been convinced by the guys that they would take care of me. Liam was still staying with us, but he seemed to be doing okay without alcohol. His buddy from high school, Max, came over to grab dinner with Liam on Saturday night, and they invited Louis and I to join them. Louis said he thought that might give people suspicion to think we were on a “double date” and then Liam would get some negative press, so he decided to pass and said he might hang out with Zayn instead. I thought a night out sounded good, so I joined Liam and Max.

We went to a fun restaurant in town and as much as I would have loved to order a beer and just drink the night away, I didn’t want to tempt Liam so I stuck with water. Max turned out to be really cool – we hit it off, although that shouldn’t have been a surprise since Liam usually had pretty good taste in friends. The subject of Louis came up near the end of dinner, and Liam looked at me, concerned.

“He’s really worried about you, you know,” Liam told me.

“I know,” I said. “I feel bad. I never meant to hurt him.”

“Harry, he doesn’t care about that. He just wants you to be okay.”

“What’s going on?” Max interjected. “If you don’t mind me asking.” I didn’t. Liam trusted him, and maybe it would be good to talk about it with an “outsider” – Louis had said telling Abby helped him (I ignored the fact that that one had backfired).

“Um, I’ve been having kind of a rough week,” I explained. “I was about to end my life on Monday when Louis walked in and stopped me.” Max’s expression turned serious, and he didn’t respond for a moment.

“I’ve been there,” he finally spoke.

“You have?” Liam asked him, surprised. Max nodded.

“When my parents got divorced two years ago. I thought it was the end of the world. I wanted it to be the end of the world.”

“How did you get better?” I asked him. Max shrugged.

“Day by day,” he said. “I went through a lot of anger, though, and I hid it from everyone around me which is what made it get as bad as it did.” Liam looked pointedly at me.

“Are you talking to Louis about what’s going on with you?” he asked me.

“The majority,” I shrugged, looking away.

“Harry, you need to tell him everything,” Liam said. “He’s not going to judge you.”

“I just hate feeling this way,” I expressed. “And the worst part is, my life isn’t that bad. I have nothing to be depressed about, which only makes me more depressed.”

“I know how you feel,” Max told me.

“Harry, talk to Louis,” Liam stressed.

“It helps to get things off your chest, trust me,” Max said. “I wish I had had the support you do when I was going through it.”

That got me thinking. I did have support. I had the guys and Gemma and maybe even now Max. Sometimes that wasn’t enough to be happy, though, and it killed me that I felt that way. What would Louis do if he knew that? He would think he was the reason for my unhappiness, when really he was the only reason I felt any sort of hope at all.