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"Ready?"
Someone asks from behind the big white screen that's propped around a computer set up. There are people wandering and going about shouting instructions all over the place. Harry has lost track of how many people are there. They are doing their jobs and it's getting tense in here by every second.
He could do with some fresh air.
But the room is covered with dark clothe draped all over it. The coziest corner where he is, is in completely contrast with it. A bit warm and inviting, comfortable, soft. Nothing what Harry feels in the moment.
But it will do.
Harry nods. He wants to yell 'Born ready,' but doesn't feel up to it. Nerves pulling at him, almost ready to snatch whatever is, at his fingertips.
He won't let it. Not this time.
He has been waiting for this very moment. For ages now. It's been what, like almost four or even more years since he left. They left.
Not on wrong foot with anyone. Part for himself. Part for whatever the situation called for at the time. Part for, he couldn't do it anymore.
Not when Louis was there. Showing him what he could have but wouldn't, in the same breath.
It ruled over Harry, into his marrow and so much, that he is sitting here in front of the camera, holding a paper in his shaking hands, about to reveal himself to the world.
Like he always wanted to, but the little part of him, will always, or at least for now, which is wrapped around Louis, has seeped through the ink onto it.
The lights hit him in the face and he can't see anything.
Not that he was seeing anything before anyway.
His realization is much of a recent now. And it's made its way on the paper.
Someone gives him instructions to start. The board claps.
So he does.
"Have something to say?" He asks, reflectively, looking into the camera, searching for the soul of viewer from other side he can't see.
He reads out then. Not looking in the camera. They have decided to make this clip as organic as possible. The camera focuses mainly on his hands. Whenever he finds his courage, he will look into the lens. Voice scratching at his throat.
"I have a lot to say." He lets the words sink in, "And nothing at all." He lets out the breath.
He continues. His breath steady. Wind knocked out of him. Voice steady and slow. Like always.
He reads it aloud. This is it. He is doing it. Everyone will know now. Not that they will be able to tell. Or some might. It doesn't matter. Or matters even. He isn't sure. Never was.
He will though, after this, he will be sure as a rock. He wants to do this. That is, he is sure of.
It won't harm Louis in the least. Harry hopes so. Not many people know. Apart from those Harry has talked to, over the years.
And Louis is out and about. Even if some people made a connection it wouldn't affect him, it would be scrapped as art piece.
This is what they are calling it. A documentary. A short film. Actor Harry. He isn't acting though. It's real. All real. So there's that. No one knows. Not the fans. Not the crew. Nor the staff. It's a relief in its own way.
That, the parts he dared to show, Louis was there to see them. All of them, in the very beginning at least. Before he started to hide it all away. They became less and less apparent as the years went by.
"Is it going to be a some autobiography? That I leave halfway, because I think,- " he is shaking, "He left halfway." Harry pauses, letting out a sigh he asks, "But he never promised to stay, so how can he leave?"
There. It's out there. He can't take it back. He won't take it back. He can already hear the whispers from miles away.
He hopes it reaches to Louis.
Like this, everything Harry does, in some way or shape or form, is for louis. At least for now. Harry hopes.
He needs to let it go. Let Louis go. Soon he will be able to shake his shadow away and step into the sun with his wings open, ready to fly.
"He had already left. He wasn't there. Not the way you or I would like to think."
His breath shudders, thinking of the hands that shoved Harry's gift back in his own hands, albeit a gentle touch, but it didn't hurt any less. Not after a 'I love you' had already toppled out, out there to be heard by those ears, the same ones that the hands belonged to. The same hands that once held the little cold ones and warmed them up in a cold December.
"I loved him, I still love him. He was a friend. We tried to be friends."
This isn't very articulate. He didn't want it to be. He had said a lot of articulate and poetic things about this already. He wants it to be raw. Messy. Unfinished. Rushed. Unpolished. The way it is in reality. The dialogues ring close to his heart.
He remembers the bike ride at the night in the familiar streets.
I trust you. He had mumbled into the shoulder as he had tightened his grip onto that torso, the same night as the gift, before his trust was shattered to pieces. Which had stiffened under his chin, where he rested it, safely, trying to seek some warmth.
He should have let go back then.
But he held on, afraid, that he might fall.
"It didn't work out because he was in a serious relationship and I loved him. I wasn't his priority. So we drifted apart over the years."
He remembers the first time Louis mentioned Luke. He didn't know about Harry and Harry wanted to tell. Tell the whole world, that he saw Louis first. He claimed Louis first. Louis was his first. But it wasn't a game of finders keepers.
And Louis didn't want to.
Harry didn't get his say either.
Harry wished, it was. Almost selfish. He wished he was selfish enough.
"It was a rejection from the start."
Harry remembers the first time he told Louis, that he liked him.
I like you.
He had said while they stood under the tree in Robin's backyard. The sun splitting through branches, blinding Harry in the eyes. Harry wished Louis would move a foot so his shadow would keep the sun away from Harry's face. But he never did.
Nevertheless Harry wanted to snog him senseless.
And the thought scared him. Took him by the surprise. Wasn't much of a surprise when he just crawled inwardly after he had said that and there wasn't the shine in Louis' eyes, Harry had always imagined there would be.
And Louis told him, they would be friends. And Harry's heart soared high with hope. He should have listened to him. Really listened to him. Friends. Friends. Friends.
It should have echoed through his body back and forth.
"Oh my fucking god! I am in denial, about the fact that he rejected me."
He laughs, he still is to this day, from that day. He always was from the start.
"He didn't fall in love with me because he didn't want to. So I'll start. I told him I liked him. He didn't like me back. We decided to be friends. As our friendship grew I fell in love with him. He tried to go away. End the friendship. He even told me that he didn't want this to continue. Said no in multiple ways. But I tried my best."
Harry remembers the twisted logic, where Louis convinced himself that Harry was a prude and a mention of a kiss will make him go away.
I want to kiss you.
He had said, and Harry's heart had leaped at the thought.
And things soured when he didn't react the way Louis had wanted him to. And Harry mentioned Aiden being his friend too.
And Louis had said, 'Is that how you spy on me?'
Harry wanted to drown himself.
He had asked Aiden to find out about Louis' crushes and everything. But he didn't mean for Louis to find out. Ever. He just wanted a sneak peak at how Louis treats his interests. It was embarrassing. Still is. Harry still wants for earth to swallow him up.
"Yes I'll give myself that. In every way possible. But it didn't work out. And it hurt. Because I was in love with him and he didn't love me back."
He remembers how he would come up with stupid jokes just to make Louis laugh. Do whatever Louis asked him to.
He hoped if he came up with more and more stupid and illogical ways, Louis would see him. Some part of him. A little even would have done. Which would have left Louis a bit speechless, abashed in some ways. Make him blush, a teeny tiny bit.
"I felt alone."
When everything was done and dusted, when the laughter conceded, when lights went out, Harry was left alone. Alone at nights in unfamiliar cities, alone at home, alone on stage, alone in the crowds, amongst nameless faces.
He started referring his loneliness as solitude. Started going missing without informing anyone about whereabouts. To come right back where he had left. Rinse and repeat.
"It hurts bad. That I gave as much as I could to someone and I loved someone my best but he didn't want it. And no matter what, he would never want it."
He remembers the letter he wrote in the spur of the moment. He watched as Louis read it, watched him shiver as he continued to read it before telling Harry Don't look at me like that. And Harry looked away. Obedient as always. Ready to do whatever Louis told him to do.
Luke had found it later in Louis' bag and had waved it around. Stan had laughed at the 'pumpkin pie' Harry had called Louis. It was meant to be for Louis. And only Louis.
And Louis said nothing, smiling a little.
And it pierced a shard of glass through Harry's heart.
But nothing hurt more than Luke finding about it and making fun of it
He should have known. He should have seen it. He had seen it.
He ignored it. If he didn't see it, didn't acknowledge it, his heart wouldn't know.
It was safe. Harry would keep it safe. He had promised Louis, 'Don't worry about it, I can handle myself.'
And Louis hadn't questioned it,
He didn't say, 'What if you wouldn't H?'
And it didn't occur to Harry's brain, that was so confident that he was smart enough to not let him fall apart.
So much confident and so egoistic that he didn't even realize that it had already started to crack.
"He never wanted it and never will."
Harry takes a breath. He remembers Louis telling him, He has started to write on the back of the same letter, for him. As an answer to it.
And Harry had found it so cruel. Something Harry had given to Louis. Louis would return it back. Allegedly even, as a reply to his own testament. Even so.
Harry wanted nothing from Louis. Not if Louis was giving everything back, Harry had given him in the first place. Louis never finished writing it.
"And it hurts that you give someone so much and it's just not enough. But you are enough for someone right? Where is my someone then? And this isn't going to change. Nothing I do is going to change the fact that he loved someone else more that I ever received. I wanted to be loved by him. But he didn't love me. And it hurt. It still hurts a bit and it's okay."
He remembers the day out on Louis' birthday, where Harry had wrapped all his plans for the day in order to meet him.
He had even snapped at Liam a bit. He just wanted to meet Louis and give him his gift.
Louis had told him it was going to be his friends and Harry had prepared himself for all the ruckus Stan and Cal would have caused.
But he only met with Luke.
Louis and Luke.
And Luke was welcoming. Harry couldn't even find a fault in him. He liked him a bit more and it made harder for him to be jealous.
Luke made Harry feel at home while they ate burgers, more than Louis did in that moment.
And as Louis stole some fries from Luke's plate, and slapped at his arms and bantered with him on fish's genders, Harry felt being chipped away.
When Louis was reluctant to share the chocolates Luke had bought for him and Luke asked him to share with three of them, Harry felt denied, rejected.
Louis didn't want to share the chocolate that Luke had bought for him with Harry.
And all Harry could see what Louis saw.
He saw how bright the Luke's smile was and wide his eyes could get. The fake huffing when Louis pulled at a loose hair strand. And his Louis followed every thought of Luke's.
And the way Luke had outsmarted Harry on something Harry was expert of. The pride, that shine in Louis' eyes and tone when he talked about Luke.
Harry wanted to be the reason. Of Louis' pride and shine and happiness.
"What am I afraid of here?"
And Harry felt incompetent. Not enough. Had he left any space to curl around himself he would have curled up there.
He tried not to ruin the happy mood, they both currently were in. It wasn't his place. He didn't belong in Louis' world. Not in this one.
And Louis caught on.
Harry watched as Luke gave him a final hug before shaking Harry's hand and left to the other part of the town.
Harry wanted for Louis to drop him, like he always did. He could have gotten a taxi. He had suggested even. For the sake of it. Luke was getting a bit impatient as they couldn't make up their minds.
Finally Harry had shut up. And Louis agreed to give him the ride.
And Harry watched on as Louis melted in Luke's comfort and take in his smell.
Something died Harry's stomach. And he wanted to run away.
Louis asked him on their way to the home, 'Why are you so down, Harry?'
'I am not, I am fine' Harry had tried to assure and Harry had smiled his brightest.
And Louis shook his head, brows furrowed, 'This convinces me even more that you aren't.'
And the smile fell off Harry's face. He stopped pretending. He rested his chin on Louis' shoulder for comfort. He didn't want to be angry with Louis. He just wanted to be with Louis and have whatever pieces Louis would give him.
Harry spoke after a while, I trust you.
"I am afraid to let go. This is such a big part of me that I don't know how to exist without it.
I don't have to exist without it. It's a part of me. It will always be a part of me. That I will get hurt but I am already hurt. I remember being hurt. And I was hurt and I am still hurt. A bleeding heart right there. I don't want to go through it again but of course I understand I have to go though it and. It's okay. Because I did once I can do it again. I was doing it, I'll do it again."
He remembers hastily creating a greeting card for Louis, writing a poem down that he came across. And Louis gave him a portrait of that he painted.
Harry remembers the day that photo Louis had referenced was taken. Zayn took it.
His back is to the camera, his curls loose, a hand spread out almost like waiting for someone to grab on it. He is looking at the trees in front of him. Tall. Racing towards sky.
Harry remembers vividly. He was dancing in the street and Zayn was fiddling with the camera, this was almost an accidental shot, before harry got into the pose.
Harry loves it. Both the photo and the painting.
"What hurts?
Rejection
Being rejected
That he didn't love me back."
He remembers burning it along with the other little notes, he wrote down to remember later.
He felt hopeless, no way out. All the walls closing in. Worthless. His mind screaming at him day and night. I want to die. I want to die.
So. Just in case. He burned all the evidence. Of him being loved. Or being offered a friendship. No fingers to point at.
"Why did it hurt?
Expectations and hopes.
I expected him to love me back."
He was playing treasure hunt with the blinding sun itself. That's how it felt like.
Harry kept loving him, through all the unanswered messages that turned to unseen that dwindled down to Harry writing in a way that left Louis no space to answer even if he wanted to.
And Harry waited. For Louis, to cross that valley that they had dug between them.
And Harry stood at the cliff. Knowing Louis was walking away. He had walked away.
His calls weren't going to echo from other side. The other cliff was barren. Not even a shadow and Harry withered. Alone. Guarding his side of cliff. Leaving trails of life, so if one day, Louis stumbled upon them, he would know Harry had been waiting for him, here.
Not anymore.
"But he had already made it clear that he wasn't going to love me back. That's why I knew he wasn't going to love me. We weren't going to end up together.
Because he explicitly told me so."
'Dont think it's a date Harry.'
And Harry thought exactly that.
'We are friends Harry.'
But Harry wanted more. Always more.
And Harry had bargained, 'But you know how I feel about you. I can't do this anymore Louis, I can't be friends with you.'
And Louis had said, 'Let's go with the flow.'
And Harry had agreed. He couldn't say no to Louis.
He never said no to Louis. Just once, once when he thought he couldn't do it anymore and came up with, 'I am not comfortable with it.'
And Louis had replied dead in the night, Perfectly fine.
Louis was always fine. Perfectly fine. With an emoji. Since when did Louis start using emojis. Harry didn't know.
They weren't in each others' lives anymore.
"That nope, we weren't going to end up together."
Harry couldn't even count for how many times Louis had said no or turned him down, directly or indirectly, one way or the other.
Harry had told him, 'I love you' and Louis had told him he talks to guys all the time but he wouldn't say it to Harry, and Harry had asked, 'What' and Louis had replied with 'I love you'
Maybe this was Louis' way of telling him that Harry wasn't the only one he was talking to.
Harry should have listened to him.
"Then why was I expecting.
Ego, and hope.
Yes of course I can have hope but I wanted him to fall in love with me.
I cannot make someone fall in love with me.
He didn't fall in love with me.
Now why did I expect him to fall in love with me?
Why were I second guessing his every move?
When he was clearly saying that he wasn't in love with me, wasn't going to fall for me. He wasn't hinting at it.
I was in denial."
Harry takes a deep breath, the page fluttering in his hand.
He remembers the day Louis took his hands and rubbed them together so Harry won't feel any cold. later when he went home, Louis told him, he wanted to kiss Harry.
"I didn't, couldn't, accept the fact that he was my friend. Just friend. Nothing less nothing more.
I was wrong all along.
I was trying so bad to make it into something that wasn't there. Yes, I created all these scenarios in my head. It doesn't matter what he says in this case."
Harry remembers telling Louis, it wasn't his fault, he had made up everything in his head, and Louis had shook his head. But didn't say anything.
Louis was very accepting from the start. Accomodating even.
Harry should have stopped taking advantage of Louis' kindness.
"He said no. He clearly made sure that it was a no from the start.
And it's okay. I was hurt. I was hurting and I wanted someone to love me. And I saw him and I loved him and I expected him to love me back. But it didn't happen."
Louis is easily loveable. Everyone would love him. He is understanding. Patient at times. Everyone loves the goofball.
Who wouldn't like to be loved by him.
It's a privilege and Harry isn't privy of it. Never will be.
"He didn't love me back and it hurt."
Maybe repeating this will make it more real. would make it hurt less.
"It's hurting in my chest, in my heart, in my stomach, in the way I breath. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to yell. I want to destroy."
Harry stops and looks into the camera.
He remembers all the songs he wrote about this feeling but couldn't place it. Now he knows where it stemmed from.
Denial.
"It wasn't easy to play pretend in front of all. It took a lot of toll on me, to act like everything was okay and that I wasn't falling away inside and shredding to pieces. Like an ulcer. It was eating away at me from the inside."
He smiles a little. There's the faith. If this doesn't end on a bright note, or at least with a silver lining on the horizon, how would it be Harry.
"Let it breath. The broken thing. The scars. The wounds. Let them heal. Let them see the day. Let them see the light. Yes, I'm Brocken."
He is.
"I am sorry that I ignored myself and ignored my voices and put myself away."
It's time to take responsibility and make peace with whatever happened and accept it. It's a process and it's a baggage he's been carrying around for years. It will take time. Harry will let it take it's time.
"I am here now. And it's okay, however I feel. However much time it takes for me to breath again. It's about time that I shut up others and listen to whatever my heart yells at me and it's screeching right now. Needs to be heard that I am in pain. I am jealous and I am bleeding. And I am hurt. And I want to be loved. I want to be hugged. And nothings mine at the moment.
"I am facing the reality. With my heart. We are together. My heart soul brain me everyone. I am with me. I am sorry that I made myself suffer. But I will pick myself up and I will place myself back together and I will make myself feel a little better. I was afraid that I was being left behind. That he was leaving me that I used to come up with some utter rubbish, at least something that it would make him stay in some way or the other. I tried my best. I tried going out of my way. I Tried being fun. Plastered a fucking smile on my face all the time."
And Harry tried. Harry wrote letters for every single person he came across, Harry made a scrapbook out of the gift Louis refused to take. Harry created a website for complementing people, so he would feel a bit better about himself, by making others feel better about themselves.
"I was tired. I was emotionally exhausted. While doing that. There was nothing left in me to offer more. And I knew he wasn't going to stay even then. Because he has always said that he wouldn't. And he left."
When Harry changed his number, he was in doubt, whether he wanted Louis to have a way to contact him. If Louis wanted to, then he could anyway. And Louis not using any of the means hurt too.
So Harry gambled and took a chance and gave messaged Louis his new number. Louis tried to be formal buy it was clear he had not much of a space for Harry in his life. At least not as big enough as Harry would like. So after a bit of waiting, frustrated one night, Harry deleted Louis' number. Now only way they could keep in touch was if Louis ever left a message for Harry on this number.
He never did.
"And now he is with someone. In his life. Happy. Unbothered. Careless. Reckless. Settled. Content. Satisfied. Maybe one day he would marry him. I feel like a wreck. I feel like shit. I feel like every day dredges on. It's a work to get up. And it's okay. It's okay to feel this way. I felt like he was slipping away. I even told him he was slipping away. He slipped away."
Harry remembers that. He told Louis, once they went on hiatus, they wouldn't be able to keep in contact. That it felt like Louis didn't want Harry to be part of his post hiatus life. It was getting hard being together this way. And Harry knew if they didn't sort this out soon, before they parted their ways. There wasn't a way, Harry was going to let Louis come back in his life.
And that is what exactly happened.
They couldn't find a way to be together. In each others life. And Harry stopped functioning. Nothing made sense for him. He saw. His life turn upside down in front of his own eyes. And he let it happen. He couldn't fight anymore. For anything.
Because he couldn't fight for Louis anymore.
He saw opportunities escape from his hands because he couldn't accept the fact that Louis never loved him, he wasn't going to love him and he loved someone else and happy in his own life and didn't spare a single thought for Harry. Harry couldn't face this reality and swept it all under his rug.
And woke up with achy bones.
Buried it deep down only for it to creep on him unnoticed and turn into this huge sludge of his life where he couldn't function in his life. Every rejection felt like Louis was rejecting him. Every opportunity felt like everyone had already chosen someone else like Louis had. So Harry took all the control of his life in the ways he could and he started telling people no even before they had a chance to offer him something so they wouldn't tell him no. One day he woke up with no one believing him when he told people that it was hurting. Physically. Emotionally.
Because they couldn't see the reason.
Because Harry couldn't see it either.
He had buried it so deep even his shattered heart couldn't recognize the pattern of slits.
"And when it got too much for me to bear I buried myself in work and ignored myself. I forgot everything. So much so I couldn't relate the past to the present. The valley between us, my heart and me, it grew. And grew and grew. Till I forgot myself as well."
He decided to try every door before giving up. And when he ran out of people he asked them to help him go to a counselor.
"But I am recognizing myself. Again. Which means I have to recognize and acknowledge the parts of myself that I deliberately left forgotten and threw away.
The most dearest and important parts of me. Him and all the memories with him. And now he has a him too. I have to dug them from the vaults of my deepest memories."
It hurt like the first time but a bit numbed. And it's still too easy to sweep it under but he keeps himself reminding if the pain he has to face.
He needs to get better. And accepting everything will somehow work.
In his experience so far it's working. So he hopes it will keep working.
"But I am hearing now. Whatever my heart wails. I am here to listen to it. Like I said before. This is a journey we are taking together. My brain and my heart.
My denial and my acceptance. Side by side. It's a long way. But it's by the beach. Where it's warm. And the sound of waves soothes as time ticks by. Healing.
Almost."
He remembers talking about the treasures buried deep down at the ocean floor and the promise that he made to a setting sun if recounting his story.
And he is doing it now.
No matter how much of pain it causes, he has to.
"His friendship was precious. He respected me. I would like to think so. Think that I meant something to him as well. I think, yes, I do mean something. He went for the trouble to say a proper goodbye to me didn't he?
But anyway. He isn't here. And never gonna be. Someday then. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. Never. Never again."
It helps reminding himself both good and the bad,
"It ate away at my heart little by little. Him going away. Leaving so swiftly. But it's okay. I have made peace with it. It gets hard to breath sometimes and my heart is on fire too. But it's okay. It's okay to feel this way. I am listening to aren't I. I promised my heart that I will. This time around."
And Harry remembers the message he received from Louis one night.
A long ass paragraph describing their every shared moment ending with I think I am in love with you.
And Harry was at work, he told Louis to wait.
Harry who had been waiting for Louis for years asked Louis to wait for a day.
But before he got there, before he had a chance, there was another message mocking him.
It was a mistake.