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Harry is an addict. The fact hits him like a freight train when he takes the time to acknowledge and accept it. It's not that he'd been in denial, he was just so busy juggling world fame and his increasing desire to pop a pill and let go that he never stopped to think that maybe his habit was becoming a problem. But now the tour is over and being home and around the people he loves kind of puts things into perspective.
Being around his mother and sister for a week makes it basically impossible to get high-he doesn't want them to notice anything. It takes 48 hours without pills for his body to go into panic mode. His muscles and joints-especially his ankles and knees-are killing him, he's sweating like a pig, body spasming uncontrollably, and the thought of even leaving his bed causes him to have a panic attack. His brain supplies the damning explanation, withdrawal, and his instincts take over. On shaking legs he locates his suitcase and takes out a baggy filled with medium sized white pills.
Percocet, first given to him by someone from management during the tour when he'd sprained his ankle on a day when they had a double performance booked. You don't have time to go to the doctor, the man explained, just take a couple of these to take away the pain. So he did. The results were instant. He had experimented with drugs before, he was a pop star and best friends with bonafide bad boy Zayn Malik, but nothing supplied by Zayn had ever made him feel quite like this. It was a much smoother high than he'd experienced before; hit spots that Harry didn't even know he had.
It was like he was surrounded by warmth and love and affection that he hadn't felt in a very long time (his break up with Louis had been pretty hard on him). Coke had shot him into the cold depths of space and weed had sank him down through the ground, but Perc floated him to where he wanted to be. Up in the clouds, surrounded by golden warmth. His body was alight, all his guards down in a way that they hadn't been since the start of his over night fame. He felt liberated.
Once he had this feeling he didn't want to give it up. The guy had given him far too many pills, just threw them at Harry like it wasn't the key to his imminent destruction. He went through the 300 pills he was given in 2 months, and then he needed more. Zayn refused to help him, said he wasn't helping Harry get caught up in that shit. So Harry found other sources. Nick Grimshaw hooked him up with a dealer in New York and the rest was history.
But now he's here. Getting high in his childhood bedroom and realizing that yeah, he's definitely an addict because he cant go a couple days sober without encountering the nasty symptoms of withdrawal. Which is kinda sorta a huge problem. One that most likely needs dealing with. Harry decides to ignore it.
*~*~*~*
Louis is the first one to say something about the sudden change in Harry's behavior. Which Harry finds weird because he figured Lou wasn't paying him much attention after they broke up. Louis moved out, left Harry mid-tour to 'try and make things work with El, it will be easier this way can't you see Haz?'. Things have been awkward between them ever since, they can't seem to figure out how to work a friendship without the touching and kissing and fucking and being in love part. Which makes sense because they never really had a friendship, they glazed over that part of their relationship when Louis gave Harry a blow job in the Xfactor bathroom. They were lovers before even deciding to like each other, so figuring out how to separate their fondness and companionship from their intense physical and emotional relationship has been difficult. They've kind of just avoided each other since the break up, leading Harry to the conclusion that Louis wasnt paying him much attention.
And yet, Louis is the first one to mention the external effect of Harry's new addiction. It happens a couple weeks after Harry returns to London from Chesire. The band had a long run of interviews and talk show appearances in their homeland and they end up collapsing in Zayn and Liam's flat on a Wednesday, (technically it's Zayn's flat, but Liam stays their so often that he's basically a squatter) completely exhausted.
Harry is high as a fucking kite, managed to shove 7 white pills down his throat in a grimy bathroom after their last interview and the 30 minute drive home gave them time to take full affect. He's gotten pretty good at hiding the fact that he's high, his own mother hadn't had a fucking clue. So when Louis speaks up it comes as a shock.
"Hey, Haz are you alright?" Louis asks hesitantly, lifting his head from Niall's lap.
"What? I'm fine!" Harry insists a little too brashly, his speech being slightly slurred doesn't help his case much (maybe 7 pills had been a little excessive, but he's had a stressful week). He can feel Zayn's narrowed eyes assessing him and tries his hardest to avoid his judgmental gaze. Zayn gets up and crosses the room in three large strides, moving too fast for Harry to keep up. He grabs Harry's jaw, squeezing it between his fingers, and lifts his head, forcing eye contact. Zayn swears under his breath.
"What? What is it, what's wrong with him?" Liam worries.
"Where did you get it? Who the fuck gave it to you? Dammit Harry I told you to stay the fuck away from that shit!" Zayn exclaims. Harry winces, the lights are so bright and Zayn is so, so loud. Harry's so tired, he just wants to sleep and float in peace.
"Zayn what the fucks going on?" Louis exclaims and Harry smiles maliciously.
"What's happened is that Harry has a fucking drug addiction. I thought you stopped when I wouldn't set you up with a dealer!" Zayn explains.
"Nick Grimshaw told me how to get more. Right after he fucked me within an inch of my life." Harry explains, giggling and looking Louis straight in the eye. The last part is a complete lie, but Harry finds sick satisfaction in the flash of pain in Louis' eyes. If he squints he can almost pretend like Louis still cares.
"What have you taken an how
much?" Niall asks.
"Percocet. About 7 or so. You should feel it Ni, it's like I'm floating. I'm free, like a bird! Like an orgasm, but better." Harry explains with a dopey smile.Liam walks up and drops to his knees next to Zayn, resting his head on Harry's thigh.
"Oh Haz, why would you do this to yourself? You're worth so much more than this." Liam murmurs, reaching up to stroke a hand through Harry's hair.
"It's not a bad thing Li. I'm happy. It makes me so happy." Harry says, pleading Liam to understand and not hate him for who he's become.
"But it's not real Harry. It's chemicals, chemicals that fuck you up for five seconds of faux happiness. Do you know what those pills are doing to you Harry? They're destroying your dopamine receptors and ruining your liver. You may never function the same again or, worst case scenario, your liver fails because of the acetomenophin. You may think they're making you happy but they're just ruining your life." Zayn explains softly and Harry shakes his head.
"No, no that's not true. You don't know that!" Harry snarls.
"Yea I do. I researched that shit, when you asked me for more. I didn't say anything because I didnt think you were taking so many and then I'd thought you stopped." Zayn says. Harry doesn't say anything, just stares down at Liam. Ultimately, it's Liam's steady, worried gaze that breaks through to him. Makes him assess the way hes been behaving, the shit hes been putting his body through, and feel guilty. He doesn't want his friends to be disappointed in him but it's hard when he's feeling so disappointed in himself. Harry's no longer floating, he's crashing straight to earth.
"What are we going to do with you Haz?" Liam asks, voice choked with emotion
*~*~*~*
Ironically enough, they end up taking Harry to the bungalow to detox. It's Zayn's idea, he suggests it after Harry expresses his keen interest in keeping the sordid details of his drug addiction between the five of them.
He hears Zayn murmuring with Liam, who would rather be taking Harry straight to the hospital for treatment, on the drive to Cheshire.
"Liam we have to respect his privacy. If we take him to the hospital for medical detox they're gonna wanna send him to rehab and then the management will be informed and it won't be long until everybody knows. We'll take him to the bungalow, stay long enough for him to flush the drugs out of his system, and then take him to get blood work done for his liver. Nobody will know, they'll think he's just a responsible adult partaking in yearly testing. Trust me." Zayn pleads.
"And what happens if the withdrawal takes a turn for the worse. What happens when he's curled up in pain begging us for another hit. I googled that shit Zayn, it's not pretty." Liam hisses. Harry flinches, ashamed of his behavior. Liam shouldn't have to deal with this, none of them should. Harry's become a burden and he fucking hates it.
"It's gonna get ugly whether we hospitalize him or not. It's not like he's been using for years Liam. The withdrawal will be ugly but it's not going to kill him. He'll be fine, we'll all be fine. Worse comes to worse, we'll ask Louis' mom for help or something. But I doubt we'll need medical help." Harry falls asleep after that, too ashamed at the idea of having to talk to Louis mom for help with his addiction to listen to his friends argue over him any longer.
*~*~*~*
When Harry wakes up he's on the bed at the bungalow.
"There he is." he heads Liam murmur affectionately as he opens his eyes. Liam is sitting at his bedside.
"When'd we get here?" Harry slurs, rubbing at his eyes.
"A couple hours ago. Would you like some water?" Liam asks, offering Harry a paper cup. Harry's throat is sand paper dry, so he gratefully empties the offered cup of it's contents. He sits back, unsure what to say or do.
"I'm sorry." he finally says and Liam nods.
"I know. I also know that this is not your fault and you can't blame yourself. You became famous when you were sixteen years old. You didn't have time to discover yourself before you were thrust into the public eye. You can't blame yourself for being depressed when you've had to deal with so much shit these past three years." Liam says and Harry smiles ruefully.
"You guys have had to deal with the same shit and you didn't develop drug addictions." Harry points out and Liam frowns.
"We may not have dealt with it the same way, but we all picked some sort of negative coping strategy. Niall laughs everything off so he doesn't have to deal with it, Louis is dating a girl he doesn't even like to try to fit in, Zayn formed himself into the cliche bad boy so no one would try to delve beneath the surface, and I, I throw myself into work so I don't have to face problems in my personal life." Liam says and Harry frowns.
"What-what do we do now?" Harry asks, he's never been so unsure of him immediate future and it scares him.
"We get better. All of this. This time that we're taking, it isn't just about healing you, Harry, it's about healing all of us."
*~*~*~*
Withdrawal is the most painful experience of Harry's life. The first two days are spent on the bathroom floor, in more pain than he's ever been in in his life, spilling his guts into the toilet. He remembers zayn forcing a joint into his mouth at one point ("dammit Zayn we're trying to break an addiction not give him a new one"
"Its natural Liam, nothing like the shit he was taking. Cant you see how much fucking pain he's in? It will take the edge off"). Then he lies in bed for a few more days, ensconced in his own sweat. He sweats liters, which is a "good sign" according to Liam. His whole body hurts, right to his bones. His joints are so sore, especially his knees and ankles (especially the ankle that he had sprained at the start of all this). He tells Liam and Liam just gives him a sympathetic look and rubs his back.
On the sixth day he wakes up in Louis' arms. He's still sweaty and a little shaky but he doesn't feel as if death is imminent any longer. Louis is running his fingers through Harry's hair and singing Sweet Disposition. Harry feels a deep ache in his chest as he remembers how much he's lost. Because Louis may be here now, he may be stroking Harry's hair and singing their song, but once they've made it through this Louis is going to return to Eleanor's arms. Harry can't let himself hope for anything else. Liam's words pierce through Harry's bran, 'Louis is dating a girl he doesn't even like to try to fit in'. Harry is sure that that I the one thing Liam was wrong about. Because Louis does like Eleanor, he may even love her. And that hurts more than anything.
"A moment of love, a dream, a laugh, a kiss, a cry, our rights, our wrongs."
"Stop." Harry croaks, prompting Louis to look at him with those sad blue eyes. There was a time When the blue eyes were full of life and light. When they played out dirty jokes and forbidden romance in the span of seconds. But the world has taken that out of those Cerulean depths. Scooped out out all the joy and filled them with a harsh melancholy. Even before the heavy weight of fame caught up with him Harry found himself wishing that he could go back and prevent all the boys from auditioning on the x factor. Because Harry could see Louis fading through the blues of his eyes. He could see Zayn retreating into a shell and Niall trying too hard to laugh and Liam working far too hard for someone his age. He thinks that maybe that shouldve been a cue for introspection, but Harry didn't start to feel the aches and pains of his own burden until it was too late. Until Louis was gone and there was nothing left except the all consuming darkness.
"Ok." Louis says, but he doesn't leave like he usually does. And Harry isn't so sure that he wants him too. Maybe he should just let himself have this, just for now. But Harry remembers how depending on Louis was the key to his doom in the first place.
Remembers how it was always 'one more night, one more weekend, one more week, one more month and then I'll learn to cope on my own'. He can't let it be that way anymore. If he's going to get better he needs to learn to stand on his own two feet. He gets out of bed and shoots Louis an apologetic look before escaping to the patio.
*~*~*~*
Harry remembers the way it was, back when this started and they were happy and it worked.
He remembers staying in the bungalow with the boys for the first time. The adventures of the mysterious cow man and the brave Liam Payne. Remembers curling up on the mattresses together because they were babies but they were young and free and no fucks were given.
He remembers the Xfactor tour and the magic of performing in front of a different crowd every night. He remembers the video diaries and Louis' bright eyes as he made millions laugh with his wild antics. He remembers him and Louis mastering the art of staying quiet while having sex in the bunk of a tour bus (he remembers the boys ribbing them the next day despite how quiet they thought they were being).
He also remembers when things started to go bad. Remembers Red or Black and how it was too much and there were too many people and he just couldn't use his lungs properly. He remembers the Up All Night tour and how the magic of being onstage started to fade when they couldnt leave a venue (or a hotel or a restaurant or anywhere) without being surrounded by people shouting crude things and trying o pull their hair. He remembers Dallas and the denials starting because 'people genuinely think we're in a relationship'. He remembers the lies and the cover ups and the fake girlfriends and the sneaking around and the start of 'be this person at this location on this night'. He remembers how the masks got larger and the truths got smaller. He remembers wanting out for the first time when his boyfriend stopped eating and was barely speaking to him.
*~*~*~*
"How are you doing?" Zayn asks, sitting down in a patio chair next to Harry.
"I'm not quite sure. I feel very detached from everything." Harry says and Zayn nods as if in understanding. Harry is fairly sure that Zayn could never understand this feeling but he accepts the gesture because Zayn is just trying to be helpful.
"That's normal." Liam says from the door way, "It's because you fried your dopamine receptors. You're going to feel that way for a while. The first feelings you'll get back will probably be sadness and you'll be sad for awhile. But you won't be this way forever." Harry guesses that he should be thankful for that. The promise that sometime in the future, he'll feel better. Maybe one day he'll even feel like Harry again. The Harry from Chesire that hadn't a care in the world. He misses that Harry.
*~*~*~*
"I thought it would be Zayn." Louis says that night as they're all huddled together on mattresses in the living room. Niall gives Louis a quizzical look and Louis clarifies, "I thought that it would be Zayn who would struggle with some sort of drug addiction. Not Harry."
"Me too." Zayn admits quietly. Liam's head snaps up from where it was resting on Zayn's chest and he gives Zayn a surprised look. Zayn shoots Liam a private smile. The type of smile that makes them all look away momentarily, "I would've. If I hadn't had such a great anchor." Zany continues and Liam blushes.
They all allow themselves a moment of quiet contemplation. Thoughts of what would've been an what could've been if small things had gone differently. If Louis hadn't smiled and dropped to his knees in the xfactor bathroom. If none of them found themselves in the xfactor queue in the first place. If Zayn hadn't kissed Liam in LA. If Niall hadn't laughed like a maniac said 'one direction, what if we were called one direction'. What would things be like if one moment in time, one that seemed like fate as it occurred, hadn't existed in the first place? Would they still be here? Or would they be somewhere better? Or maybe even somewhere worse? Maybe they would be standing at Harry's graveside, the tombstone reading 'died trying to be happy'. Maybe it would be Zayn's tombstone. There's always the possibility that they could've ended up happy; whether they met or remained ignorant of each other's existences so that could happen.
Harry likes to think that in another life, they could have all been happy together. Zayn would be a tattoo artist and Niall would play the guitar and Liam would have some office job that he loved far too much. Louis would be a drama teacher and Harry would be Harry and theyd all share a flat and eat Chinese takeaway and watch crap Telly. Zayn and Liam would have sex too loud and Louis' bright eyes would tell stories and Niall would find an artsy girlfriend. It wouldn't be the most exciting life but they would all be happy. Harry would give anything to be happy.
*~*~*~*
It takes two days before Niall brings up the inevitable. It happens like this: They're all eating dinner around the fire pit and watching the sunset. Its almost like it was three years ago. Except Louis isnt telling stupidly hilarious jokes and they're not all laughing and flicking food at each other.
They're not all filled with hope like they were three years ago. Three years ago when they were thrust into an impossible situation too young and expected to survive. Three years ago when they still believed that they had a whole world to conquer and believed that they could accomplish everything. Three years ago when they thought everything was going to be great because they were One Direction and they were fresh and young and everybody fucking loved them.
"This isn't working anymore." Niall says, breaking the silence. Cutting into their quiet thoughts of all the ways they've screwed up.
"Well you don't have to sound like you're breaking up with us." Louis says; almost like he's still the Louis that makes a joke of everything. Niall just smiles sadly and Harry can feel everything breaking.
"I think we all need time. Away from all this. We'll still talk and stuff it's just...after we get ourselves sorted...I think it's time to call it quits." Niall explains. No body disagrees with him. They all just nod and go inside to curl up on the mattresses an hold onto each other. Hold onto what they're about to lose.
*~*~*~*
And through it all (Louis leaving him, the addiction, the bad decisions, trying to recover and rediscover himself with the four boys who have been there for everything) there is this memory that won't leave him alone. It repeats like a broken record at night when he can't sleep. Haunts his dreams when he finally sinks into the warm hands of unconsciousness. He carries it in his subconscious like a badge of dishonor, always replaying whether he is fully aware of it or not. A constant reminder of all the ways he has failed himself and the people he loves.
Like most of the memories his brain has categorized as worthy of conscious access, it involves Louis in some capacity. It happens like this: a couple weeks after Leeds, back before the novelty of being Harry Styles from One Direction wore off (when he was still a child full of hope), he was laying in bed with Louis; both of them breathing hard from a rigorous bout of love making. The room was drowning in that mood that can only exist after having sex with someone you love.
"I love you." Louis had said, wrapping Harry up with his octopus limbs (for someone so tiny, he had quite the cuddle reach).
"Love you too, Boo." Harry had replied, like he always did. Louis crinkled his nose because they were still pretending that he hated Harry's pet names. Harry could tell the moment Louis started thinking about serious matters. His limbs acquired a tense quality that hadn't existed moments before. Louis was always thoughtful after sex, serious in a way he usually wasn't. Harry had grown used to it and he knew that Louis would share his thoughts when he was ready.
"I think, I think Zayn is having a rough time right now." Louis said. Harry thought about it for a moment. He knew he could shrug it off. Make a joke about hoping Louis hadn't been thinking about Zayn the whole time they were having sex. He also knew that it would work, Louis would be too tired to breech the subject again and they could forget all about the heavy turn the conversation had almost taken. But he also knew that if Louis brought it up then he really wanted to talk it through with Harry. Harry knew that sometimes he was the only one who could help Louis fully understand his thoughts and feelings, and he had to be responsible about it.
"Yeah. Well can you blame him? His grandpa just died." Harry said, fishing for subtext. There was a specific reason Louis brought this subject up and it wasn't just to discuss Zayn's mourning.
"I, I feel like he's changing." Louis admitted and Harry suddenly knew why Louis had been so tense lately. Louis was afraid of change. He usually laughed it off, pretended it didn't bother him, but Harry could always see through the guise. It was a fear borne of a childhood filled with constant change. Louis kept moving to distract himself, but his unwavering fear that things would change beyond his control was always visible to Harry.
"Yeah. He is." Harry had said simply, because he hadn't known what else to say. He was unsure what type of reassurance Louis was looking for.
"Promise me that you won't let them change us." Louis had said, "Promise you won't let the world change this." That was a reassurance that Harry felt comfortable offering. At the time, he had been so sure of his relationship with Louis; positive that despite what the future held, he would always have Louis.
"Of course they won't, Lou. I would never let that happen." Harry promised and that was the end of that. They fell asleep together, confident in themselves and their state of being. So sure that they could make it through as the same people they were in that moment.
*~*~*~*
"I love you, you know?" Louis spouts off on their last day at the Bungalow. He's standing in the doorway to the bedroom watching Harry pack his stuff. Harry just shrugs because he knows Louis us drunk off of Harry's parents' secret Bacardi stash. Louis always gets drunk and clingy when he's unsure of his future. "I do though, Haz. I like love you sooo so much."
"Yeah, okay." Harry says, praying that Louis will shut up because he can't deal with this right now. He's too unstable; shaky in a way that suggests he may do self medicate at the first sign of trouble. And he can't do that to himself anymore, he knows that much is true.
"You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You were my salvation, my baby boy. I love you, I'm in love-"
"Stop." Harry insists weakly. He can't hear Louis say that; not now, possibly not ever. He needs to get better, he needs to learn how to be happy on his own. Without depending on someone to provide his joy. And he knows that if Louis says the right thing, Harry will end up falling into his arms again. Louis is his weakness; always has been and always will be. "I love you too Louis. Always have and always will and all that. But I can't do this right now, I can't do you right now. I need to learn how to be my own knight in shining armor. Just let me save myself, let me learn how to stand on my own two feet. And maybe, once I do that, we can talk." Louis nods sadly and Harry gives him a forced smile, "Besides, you have Eleanor right?" Harry says in an attempt to wipe the sad look of Louis' face.
"She doesn't mean anything to me Hazza." Louis admits softly and Harry's heart is broken by him for the last time.
*~*~*~*
Harry knows what he should do, knows what he needs to do. Walking away from Louis is his only option. He knows that, he does. He's too vulnerable to be taking on Louis' issues. It's just hard because he remembers the man that Louis is capable of being. Sure, for the last year or so Louis has been the washed up shell of what should have been. And Harry's not blaming Louis for becoming that person because its not his fault. Louis is merely what time and circumstance have forced him to become.
But sometimes, Harry will look at him and he can still see a strong, independent, beautiful person that is full to the brim with potential. Harry thinks that the problem with trying to get over Louis at his worst is that he's had a front row seat to Louis at his best. And no matter how hard he tries, some fundamental part of him will always think of Louis as Harry's Louis.
The Louis with the laughing cerulean eyes and the sex hair and the constant motion. The Louis who could bring a nation to it's knees with laughter. The Louis that provided Harry with some of his best memories. The Louis that tugged his sleeve and said 'go to Leeds with me'. The Louis that he fully fell in love with for the first time when watching the Temper Trap perform Sweet Disposition. The Louis that was soft and sweet but also sassy and brutally honest. The 'is he here or is he there' Louis. Kevin. Terrrrrrrance. Making love under the stars in a cramped tent. Boo Bear. 'I think he's always wonderful'. Toms. Red jeans. Louis, the real Louis, the Louis who belonged to Harry.
He can't just burn that Louis out of the fabric of his being. That Louis will always be a part of him and nothing Harry does will change that. He just has to learn to retrain his brain; to remember that Harry's Louis doesn't exist anymore. And it sucks and it's nobody's fault but its true and Harry needs to remember that.
*~*~*~*
"You'll take care of yourself right?" Liam asks as they stand outside management headquarters. This is it, the end of One Direction. Theyve void their contracts, made their statements, and done their interviews. They're officially free to go their separate ways. They've made each other empty promises to call and hang out, but they know that won't be happening for a long time, if ever. They all need a little time to get over this, let it burn out in the tabloids and learn to deal with the stares on their own.
"Of course." Harry promises and Liam smiles sadly.
"You ready?" Zayn asks Liam and he nods.
"I guess this is it." Liam says, taking Zayn's hand. Harry nods and they say their goodbyes and go their separate ways. Harry takes a moment to look back at the rest of the boys walking in different directions, leaving for good.
It hurts, a deep ache in his chest as he mourns for the last three years of his life. They were great, they were One Direction, they were supposed to do the impossible. And now they're just five broken boys trying desperately to hold on to the remnants of the people they were. Five different boys, five different directions, five different endings. This wasnt the way things were supposed to be and Harry knows that, but there's really nothing that can be done at this point. This version of events in this universe just didn't work out. Harry hopes that in another universe, five boys are eating Chinese takeaway in a crappy flat and they're laughing and they're happy and it works.