***Harry Styles***
Tuesday, March 27th, 2012 – North London, England

I was too busy crying at the lake and cutting and relishing in the pain from the wounds to hear footsteps approaching. I jumped when someone said my name.

“Harry?” It was Zayn. I froze. I knew he had seen what I was doing. I turned around – not only was Zayn there, but Liam and Niall were, as well. They all turned pale white.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Liam gasped. I slid the razor blade into my pocket and pulled the top of my pants back up over the cuts, wincing from the sting of the fabric rubbing on the fresh wounds. I knew that didn’t prevent them from having seen what I had been doing, though. Instead of responding, I just shook my head, pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and buried my face in my arms. The guys all rushed over, sat down next to me, and put their arms around me, rubbing my back.

“What’s going on?” Zayn finally asked.

“I can’t,” I shook my head. “The only person I want to talk to about it is Louis, and he won’t, he – he doesn’t care!” I stuttered.

“Well, he cared enough to send us to come find you, so, I’d say yeah, he does care,” Zayn told me. Louis had sent them?

“Harry,” Liam started, in his take-charge fatherly voice, “does Louis know about the, um, the…?” he trailed off, unable to say the word.

“The cutting?” I prompted, finally having enough strength to look up at my friends. Liam nodded. “Yeah,” I replied. “He knows.”

“And he hasn’t done anything about it?!” Niall exclaimed, and I noticed he was pretty shaken. I felt bad.

“I begged him not to,” I defended Louis. “I told him I’d – I’d stop.”

“But then you guys got in a fight and so you didn’t know what to do,” Zayn said gently. I nodded.

“I’m addicted to it,” I admitted, terrified, unable to keep that in any longer. For some reason, it was easier to confess that to Zayn, Liam, and Niall than it would’ve been to Louis.

“Okay, we’re gonna figure this out,” Liam told me, and he hugged me as I continued to cry.

“Harry, we should get you home,” Zayn said. “Louis’s really worried.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered, but there was a flicker of hope inside of me when Zayn said that, wanting it to be true.

“I think he just wants to make sure his Harry is okay,” Zayn added. “His Harry”. I liked how that sounded, although after today I wasn’t sure I’d ever be “his” anything again. I nodded, dreading the confrontation that was about to happen, and Zayn and Liam lifted me to my feet. Niall stayed sitting, his eyes still wide open.

“Nialler?” I sniffled. “You coming?” Niall looked at me, fear in his eyes. “I’m okay, Niall,” I told him. “I’ll be okay.” I wasn’t sure how convincing my voice sounder, but I reached my hand out to Niall. He took it, and I pulled him to his feet, then he grabbed me in a tight hug. Liam and Zayn came around behind us and joined in the hug as well, and I let out a sob. I was feeling a mixture of emotions – it meant the world to me that my band mates cared this much (yes, Louis included), but I didn’t like that I had let them see me like this (no, Louis not included on that one – Louis had seen me at my worst and made it okay for me to break down). Finally, we started walking back to mine and Louis’s house, a quiet walk, the guys occasionally glancing at me to make sure I was still breathing.

Notes

Directioners,

Thank goodness for the other guys.