#life happens when it’s supposed to sometimes and i feel really glad that 2022 was when i was meant to find SHINee

[tulsa24]

2022 was such a great time to become a shawol 💎

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x12 Review

Second Chances was a lacklustre finale for an uneven season. Let’s dig in!

Earlier this week I re-watched S1 in preparation for the S2 finale and the contrast between the two seasons is jarring. In almost every way S2 has been worse and after seeing this finale I’m less optimistic that Tim will be able to fix the long list of things that have gone wrong. Tim has said in some of his interviews today that pretty much all of S2 was written before the pandemic and that they didn’t have to do as much re-writing as people might think due to the stringent safety measures Disney put in place. Of course, that removes an excuse for the bad writing we’ve seen so much of this season as according to Tim what we saw of S2 is largely what he envisioned minus big crowds and background dancers.

 Across his many interviews today, the one consistent point is that Tim does not have any real plans for future seasons; things like Ricky’s endgame he hasn’t decided on and he can’t even guarantee the summer season the finale sets up due to the weather in Salt Lake. I do think a S3 is an almost certainty given the show’s popularity but I’ll take Tim at his word that he truly doesn’t know if they’ll be renewed since it seems to be a new Disney tradition to wait until seasons are done airing before making a renewal decision (the same thing happened for the popular and well received Mighty Ducks: Game Changers which got a silent renewal only after all of S1 aired). That being said as poor of a season finale as Second Chances is it is also a terrible potential series finale. In large part it goes back to his lack of planning, he wants to keep all options open but in doing so Tim is crippling the show’s ability to deliver any pay offs or tie up loose ends.  

The one mostly well done plot line this season was Portwell which got a happy ending tonight as they canoned. The only good thing about the big brother angst was that it was so insane that it had to be addressed and sure enough it was and Gina got her first kiss with a guy she really liked. If Tim is to be believed the reason we didn’t get an on screen Portwell kiss was not because of their age difference or covid concerns but because he felt that everyone’s first kiss was different so he wanted it off screen so viewers could fill in the blanks themselves. Tim’s line of reasoning is profoundly stupid. Imagine if they had Jamie show up and he and Gina talked off screen and Tim tried to claim that because everyone has a different relationship with their own siblings that he wanted the audience to fill in the blanks as to how their conversation went!

Still we saw great character development on Gina and EJ’s part as both really grew from the people they were in S1. As Tim noted, EJ bringing Gina back in 1x10 was kind of the set up for this story line. The only thing missing was a brief Portwell scene sometime in eps 2x01-2x04 to set them up. The consistent development they got from 2x05-2x12 is unlike any other ship on the show; only Rini exceeds their development. 

Unfortunately I don’t think that will last in S3 because Tim will always favour Ricky over EJ and if he wants to do Rina he’ll dispose of Portwell before doing so. I was surprised that they never bothered to have Ricky and Gina have a conversation about Gina’s S1 confession. It was a huge mistake to have Gina pine over Ricky for half the season and it was no surprise that Gina’s story line got instantly better once she stopped interacting with Ricky. Tim has made clear in interviews that he’s still interested in the possibility of Rina which makes his poor writing of them even more bizarre. What conclusions are the audience supposed to draw from the Rina story line this season? That Ricky never cared that much about Gina? That it’s totally fine for the show if they don’t interact for 6 eps in a row? That Gina has moved on? I’ve said before that a wiser man than Tim would recognize that doing both Portwell and Rina will do tremendous damage to the show and he should pick one and not do the other. Of course he’s not that smart but it is wild how he’s accidentally written their story line to make for a perfect end to Rina. 

Second Chances was great and is the only part of the finale that would have been well suited to being part of a potential series finale. 

The Rini closure was a sad inverse of their S1 opening night confession. They’ve fallen so far from being the it couple of the series and I fear Tim doesn’t actually know what to do with them now. He really needs to decide if he’s tearing down that treehouse for real. 

The less said about the Valentine’s chocolates the better but at least Gina and Nini are cool again and Nini can explore her budding music career with Jamie’s help. Tim repeatedly said in interviews that the scripts about Nini’s music career were all written before Driver’s License came out and I think he understands that the audience is just going to see the show as copying from Olivia’s life. 

The wildcats just deciding to drop out of the Menkies was a lame cop out. Tim has said he always meant for that to happen though they were originally going to compete at the Menkies then drop out (presumably that’s where we would have heard Lily singing Home). Somebody should have mentioned the $50 000 prize money which the East High theatre department could surely use after Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara burned it down (remember that story line that had no consequences?). And that NYU scholarship could have been life changing for one of them and yet no one even brought  it up once this season. 

I did like the twist that it was EJ and his dad who got Mazzara into Caltech. He’d be a fool not to take it but I’m glad he confessed to Miss Jenn. She’s had a really rough season and I hope she redeems herself in S3.

Howie was acting so weird tonight and last ep that I have a hard time believing he was really so awed by Kourtney’s talent rather than feeling guilty for helping to steal the harness. The harness is another useless plot device; there are no consequences for Lily stealing it, she’s not caught, East High pulls off another version of the transformation off screen, and then East High withdraws from the Menkies anyways. Doubtless the harness will eventually come up to serve Rily angst. 

At least Lily was straightforward, I’ll give her that. She has such an odd way of speaking, almost child like. As awful as it is there is potential for a forbidden/secret romance story line with Rily. It really does not speak well to Ricky’s character that he’s so easily fallen for Lily’s act when he has no reason to trust her and she never apologized for making fun of Big Red during the auditions or making Ashlyn feel insecure during the dance off. 

The one way in which S2 was drastically better to S1 was in regards to the Seblos story line. Clearly Joe being bumped up to regular made a big difference. We got the first same-sex kiss between two boys and the first love song sung by one boy to another in Disney history and that is a legacy to be proud of. Of course, there was still some Disney censorship such as Carlos and Seblos being unable to use the word gay in the same ep that focused on Carlos singing In a Heartbeat to Seb. 

S1 of HSMTMTS had a clear direction, the wildcats would have to try and come together to stage High School Musical and Ricky and Nini would have to decide if they still had a future together while Gina and EJ had to work on being better versions of themselves. It was simple sure but it worked very well. There was a lot of heart but also a lot of humor and the show never took itself too seriously. What has S2 had? Beauty and the Beast was hardly the main focus of the cast or the writers and the central couple that S1 was built around is now broken up either for a long time or for good. There was a lot less of the meta moments that jokes that made S1 such a hit, for far too many eps this season the show took itself way too seriously. Hell even the lighting this season was darker than in S1. 

Olivia Rodrigo’s team had complained in a recent article that Olivia wouldn’t be able to potentially tour until fall 2022 due to her contractual commitments which is a sign that they think a S3 is very likely though I wonder how late S3 filming would have to start to keep her occupied until late 2022. There’s no confirmation of this but I thought it might be worth keeping an eye on; a post on r/hsmtmts by someone who claims to have a source working on production says that the plan is for S3 to be a summer theatre camp possibly with Camp Rock renditions and the plan for S4 is to jump 6 months ahead to the final semester of senior year and end with Ricky, Nini, Big Red, and Kourtney graduating from East High. They also say that part of the delay in the S3 announcement is a conflict between Tim and Disney executives. Tim wants to move production to LA and film on sets as it’s easier and cheaper while the Disney execs still want some on location shooting in Salt Lake. Again this is all unconfirmed but if it pans out it will represent a major shift in the series. 

Regardless if Tim wants the show to remain successful he needs start planning out what he wants to happen. He should not assume he’s getting more than 4 seasons. If the series gets a S3 but then is suddenly cancelled then how would he want all the main story lines to wrap up? And if they make it to S4 where does he see it ending? The graduation of the current juniors is a logical series ending point but if Tim wants to do something different he needs to start thinking of that now. I can’t say I’m excited anymore for S3 but I do really hope that Tim and his writers can turn things around and that will only happen if they recognize what they did wrong and learn from their mistakes. 

Until next season Wildcats

[okayto]

Mini-Review: Mieruko-Chan

High school student Miko Yotsuya has the unfortunate ability to see horrifying ghosts and spirits that haunt her and the people around her. Despite this, Miko does her best to ignore the existence of ghosts and tries to live out a normal high school life.

I had high hopes for this: billed as a horror comedy, it looked like it fit the vibe of the creepy-but-not-too-much-horror I enjoy (Ghost Hunt, Mononoke, Shadows House).

The ghosts are genuinely creepy, and I was distinctly uncomfortable at times, in a way that I can acknowledge is intentional on the creator’s part--and honestly: good job. It adds an extra level because we’re not just watching Miko get scared by these things, we’re right there with her getting creeped out by just the animation of the thing. And that’s intentional.

Miko is often terrified. She’s got such a “cool character” design, she doesn’t look like she’s scared, and that’s her goal: if she can convincingly pretend that she doesn’t see anything, most ghosts will leave her alone. She doesn’t understand why she can suddenly see things, there’s no one to explain things to her, she’s doing her best to just get through the day without keeling over from panic or exhaustion.

The comedy...after watching, I wouldn’t call it a comedy. That’s not to say there isn’t humor, and side-character Yulia’s consistent attempts to get Miko to admit that she sees the ghosts too, and then interpreting Miko’s refusal to engage as a power move, is humorous, while happy-go-lucky best friend Hana also lightens the mood. But the main humor of the show, I think, is supposed to come from Miko pretending she can’t see the horrors around her. And uh, I just didn’t think it came off as funny. Interesting, yes, but not humorous.

A negative, which at least lessened (but didn’t disappear) as the series went on, was the fanservice. Hana’s giant boobs bouncing up to smoosh against Miko’s back when Hana runs in for a hug, unnecessarily-tight pajamas straining against her body with a crotch-height shot, panties being slid down her legs when she’s in a bathroom stall, and more. They’re annoying, make the show impossible to watch in many environments (glad I started this one at home instead of at work), and also just don’t fit the atmosphere of the show. They were downright distracting when we’re watching a character freak out, the tension’s ramping up, and oh, everything’s interrupted by her high school butt.

Verdict

English dub? Yes

Visuals: This is a newer show and looks like it. The contrast between the bright anime characters and the moldering, ghoulish, and sometimes disturbing ghost designs emphasizes the latter’s creepiness.

Worth watching? Yeah, but I’d put it on in the background. I’m of two minds: the first is that it was a bit uneven, the fanservice in particular was consistently distracting, and there’s not really any goal Miko can work towards because she still doesn’t know why anything is happening. That doesn’t mean the story is aimless (it’s not).

The latter half of the series starts to feel more cohesive, as we expand the cast of characters and Miko gets, if not actual experience, a bit more used to what she’s seeing and how she can [not] react. Some of the newer characters also seem to promise their own stories that may intersect with Miko--some do in the show, and some hint at what might come next (in the manga, which is ongoing, and thus potentially in any future seasons, though who knows if that will ever happen).

Where to watch (USA, as of June 2022): Funimation (though with the continuing merger of the companies’ catalogs, it should be available on Crunchyroll at some point in the future)

Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!

[nobito203]

Hello,

How are you today?? It's your birthday, isn't it?? Hope you're having a great day filled with best wishes from everybody. I want to write something, and since I'm pretty good with words, so why not this occasion and why not about you?? Shall we??

We met summer 2019, crazy huh?? It's been 3 years since that day. It also was the last time we met physically. So many things have changed since. We're all busy. Still, it's nice to check in sometimes, to know we are still in existence 🤪🤪. Thanks the social media platforms for that. It's been a while since the last time we checked in. As you may have known or not, I'm pretty nostalgic, so I decided to take a trip down memory lane.

Let's see, it's silly to not mention I had crush on your 3 years ago when talking about our relationship. It's dumb to look forward to the future without knowing what happened in the past, right?? That was wild. I never felt about someone the way I felt about you. All of my closest friends knew about it. Your mysterious charm captivated my curiously young self. As far as I know, you’re very reserved, independent, and emotionally intelligent. People normally take personality for granted. In some cases, it takes a great deal of time for people to realize each personality tells a peerless story. You were more open as we continued talking, which I personally still think you don’t do that often to someone you just met. You said you have problem with trust, generally; thus, it takes time for you to open up with someone. Indeed, "good things take time". I found that very attractive. Trust needs to be earned. Reading wise, you showed me "The Suicide Shop" - still the best dark humor novel I've ever read. That book had taught me keep embracing to what I value, and things will get into places although what I value might not fall into what the majority values. You said you like jazz music and listen to a lot of Niki. Such a classic vibe. Those small things were what made you special.

Telling you my feeling took a toll on our relationship. Things got awkward afterwards but I think it was very normal and understandable. I believe it was supposed to be like that. Time went by, I broke the awkwardness between us because I didn't want us get into a predicament, which I was very proud of myself handling that. I'm glad we reconciled and continued chatting once in a while. Hope you feel the same? Honestly, I don't regret it. That was one the best summers in my life. I will always remember it. Life is too short to hold back the feeling we have for someone we're attracted to. Plus, we were young, so why not go wild while we can. I still find it very fun and memorable whenever I think about that time.

3 years later, we don't talk as much as we're used to be 3 years ago. But what can I say?? Out of sight, out of mind works in pretty much every circumstance. Still, I'm happy we are still keep in touch. Always hope to have more chances to talk to you, but it doesn't seem ideal at the moment. Gotta be practical haha 😂😂. Does it get easier to trust someone yet?? We have different lives (of course) and there are different things are craving our attention. I strongly believe things in life happen for a reason. Let it be.

Today is your birthday, I wish you health and wealth (including tăng lương), be surrounded by people you love and love you. Life in NYC must be really fun I reckon, tho it could be stressful sometimes. I hope life will bestow upon you everything you deserve. I want this writing can be a nice touch for your birthday. I'm very grateful we met and became friends. I appreciate you spent some times to chat, I appreciate you used to be someone special to me. Tho we don't talk much anymore, I hope these words serve as a reminder that you are a very special person to yourself, not only today, but everyday. Stay special and slay it. Feeling special is a way of living. I can't wait to see what you gonna achieve next.

Feliz cumpleaños 🎂🎂

May 2022

A friend of yours:

- No Name

P/S: Are you still "bay là là" everyday??

[softzhongli]

summary: a closer look at the most exclusive group chat in all teyvat. we have two oblivious idiots in love, two horny bastards afraid of their feelings, a grumpy cat and his sunshine boyfriend and one very single and tired girl... among many many others warnings: swearing, probably some angst info: crack fic, multi-chaptered, social media au, not much difference they just have phones lmao pairings: childe x kaeya // xiao x venti // zhongli x diluc + lumine and other characters requests: open posted: 08/03/2022 a/n: no notes bc i don’t wanna spoil the chapter cuz boy oh boy a lot has happened there lmao the only thing i’ll say is that the chat name is supposed to be like that i mean? diluc? naming a chat? wouldn’t happen lmao

>> if you wanna talk or sth hmu here on tumblr or on discord (itskxnga#8629) or in genshin (eu // uid: 736495790)

PREV II MASTERLIST II NEXT

CHAT:  ⮡  members: diluc / zhongli

diluc: i'm sorry

diluc: again

zhongli: diluc, i told you it's okay

diluc: but I feel bad

diluc: I'd much rather stay with you

zhongli: haha, i know, love

zhongli: I admit, the bed does seem rather empty without you

diluc: not helping

zhongli: but

zhongli: an emergency is an emergency

zhongli: it cannot be helped

diluc: sigh

diluc: I'll be back as soon as possible

zhongli: i don't doubt that

zhongli: but please make sure everything is taken care of

zhongli: I'll still be here when you're back

diluc: i know

diluc: but sometimes i have a hard time actually believing it

zhongli: what do you mean?

diluc: it's silly

zhongli: i bet it's not

diluc: i just

diluc: i spent so long being in love with you it almost feels wired being in an actual relationship with you

diluc: it's... all I ever wanted

diluc: so it's kinda surreal waking up with you and hearing you say you love me

zhongli: oh, it's certainly not silly, diluc

zhongli: and i feel the same way, you know?

diluc: you do?

zhongli: is it that hard to believe?

diluc: to be completely honest? a little, yeah

zhongli: haha, well you're not the only one who was keeping those feelings a secret

diluc: how long?

zhongli: is it really important?

diluc: absolutely not

diluc: but i need to know

zhongli: hm... since i helped you and lumine with a commission in liyue that one time

diluc: zhongli that was almost a year ago

zhongli: yeah :)

diluc: I'm coming back

zhongli: diluc you already promised you'd go

zhongli: besides, you already promised ME the rest of your life so we have all the time in the world

diluc: that's not fair

diluc: you can't just say that out of the blue

diluc: people are staring at me now

zhongli: i love you

diluc: zhongli!

diluc: fuckk

zhongli: :)

diluc: i love you, too

zhongli: I'll visit you in a few hours if you're not back by that time

diluc: I definitely won't be able to focus on work then

zhongli: i'm strangely delighted to hear that

diluc: hahaha yeah, somehow it doesn't surprise me

zhongli: am i that predictable already, love?

diluc: I'd like to think of it as me knowing you that well

zhongli: yes, that does sound nice

zhongli: almost as nice as seeing you more relaxed now feels

diluc: yeah, now that i don't have to worry about kaeya anymore i feel better

diluc: having you by my side was a huge help though

zhongli: I'm glad to hear that :)

zhongli: do you think we should tell the rest we're together? now that the problem is solved?

diluc: i think so?

zhongli: you don't sound convinced, love

diluc: i just like how things are now

zhongli: would you prefer to just let them figure it out on their own?

diluc: i don't think it's gonna take long but yeah? if you're okay with that?

zhongli: if it makes you happy, I'm more than okay

diluc: what about you? I want you to be happy too, zhongli

zhongli: you're making me happy every time we're together

zhongli: and you've made me the happiest I've been in a long time, yesterday

diluc: zhongli...

zhongli: i'm only speaking the truth, love

diluc: i can never win with you

zhongli: is that a bad thing?

diluc: now that I have you for myself? i honestly couldn't care less

zhongli: haha, I didn't know you were so romantic

zhongli: you remind me of xiao a little

diluc: well... out of all of them, I like xiao the most

diluc: so thank you, for the compliment

zhongli: you may fool them but i know you care about all of us

diluc: maybe

diluc: but no one could ever come even close to you

zhongli: and if I'm being honest and a little selfish, I hope it stays that way

zhongli: I've said it already but I do prefer your undivided attention :)

diluc: it's all yours

diluc: for as long as you want it

zhongli: that honesty and directness are some of the things I love the most about you

diluc: zhongli I'm begging you, please stop saying stuff like that or else I'll be here for the rest of the week

zhongli: oh, we absolutely cannot have that

zhongli: definitely not when I have to go back to liyue in a few days

diluc: why do I miss you already?

diluc: look what you've done with me!

zhongli: you're positively precious, diluc

zhongli: and I'm sad to go, too

zhongli: but

diluc: just move in with me, zhongli

zhongli: diluc?

diluc: i mean it

diluc: i don't need years to know or to make sure or whatever

diluc: i already know i want you, that i want to spend my life with you

zhongli: oh, diluc

diluc: at least promise me to think about it?

diluc: i know I'm asking a lot

diluc: but i love you

diluc: and I just want you by my side

zhongli: okay then, i will definitely think about it

zhongli: now hurry back to me

diluc: :)

zhongli: :)

[shesbeingocean]

Realizations:

It's been a long time since I've written something here. It's been a long time since I feel like I'm me again. 2021 and the first era of 2022 was a very challenging for me. I think, I keep chasing love and I didn't know how to wait. So, this was what happened.

I think, I need a time to myself, to heal myself. What I did was just to get another man to get over the previous man. Because, I wanted to ran away from the tears, from the pain that I could possibly feel. But, somehow, I successfully supressed what I really felt inside.

Also, as I've tried stalking my previous or old account on Tiktok, I've noticed some changes to myself. I don't smile often, my smile was fake, my smile wasn't as genuine as before. I have changed a lot. I know, change is inevitable. But, if it's for worst? Would you think that you'll be able to accept the way you are if it's for the worst? Of course, not. That's why I'm here.

This 2022, I have decided to be freely alone. To not entertain any connections. Rather if it's friendship or lovelife. If someone came, good. If not, then I'll be okay dealing and loving myself. Sometimes, in order for us to heal is to be with ourselves. Loving yourself most of the time is like having a relationship or a specific connections towards others. You spend time, you spoil them, you treat them, you compliment them. And, I just hope that you love yourself more than you love the people around you. I hope that you know your self-worth and self-value. Because, if it's gone? You'll get worst. And, you'll lose your identity.

I remember last week when I was done reflecting to all the things that I have to realized, I tried spending time to watch a specific musical which was "STILL." The series was so great. But, that's not the main important here. Yes, I've cried a lot of times as I was watching that series. But, the most important thing is that... I AM ME. When I watched the musical, it feels like I AM ME. This is me, this is me. This is the Marichelle that I know. She loves theatre, she spends time with theatre, she spends time watching and learn things from the theatre folks she knows. She is this.

I've lost her at some point. But, I was glad to be able to come back even if it's one of the hardest thing that I did in my entire life. I also tried creating an account on twitter and finally open my heart, to interact with the fans that I know on twitter. And, guess what. I felt home. I feel like I am home. I remember my co-fan saying, "welcome home, ma." And, seriously, it feels like it.

I can noticed some changes. But, the feeling's still familiar. And, it's HOME. I'm finally home with these people that I shared my interest with. Who adores the same person as I am.

But before all that, I remember my therapist told me that I shouldn't be explaining my side, my behavior or personality to others. It is not your responsibility. And, it's not some kind of research paper for you to defend it. And, quite honestly? I've realized a lot of things as I've read that phase.

Most of the time, we tend to explain what we feel, what we think, what was the reason and etc. Which we shouldn't, which we're not supposed to. Unless, if you're feeling like opening up to someone that you really trust. But, if you can't explain, then you shouldn't. Then you don't have to.

January really tested me. Tested my faith, myself. And, I guess, I have failed. But, here I am again. Trying to get back on track. Trying to pick up every piece of my pie. And, I do really hope that I'll win this time. But, I won't stop. People may see me crying, break, bend, but I won't give up.

I know, I have said that we are not supposed to be happy. If happy doesn't exist, then joy does. You just have to find what will makes you bring joy. And, when you have find it, you just have to make a plan on how to achieve it. You can start from the smallest one. And, don't worry about the next step. Focus on step one first. Then, everything should follow.

Lastly, there's a saying that I can't forget. "Someday, everything will make perfect sense. For now, just laugh through the confusion. And, smile through the tears. And, keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason."

Don't give up. Your life hasn't ended there yet, you must keep going. And, always remember if you are someone like me who did a terrible mistake. Remember this: Just because we did terrible things, it doesn't mean that we're horrible people. People makes mistakes, and that's how we learn. We're not perfect. And, we'll never be. All we have to do is to do better and do our best of not doing it again. Because, every mistakes has a lesson that you can apply to your life. And, I'm pretty sure that you'll be stronger, and wiser once you've get through all this.

For now, let's smile through the pain. Let ourselves cry, bend, breakdown, and so on. Until we feel better and ready to move forward. 💖

[londonspirit]

2021

Well, it’s that time of year again. 

Honestly, I don’t have much to write this year. There have been too many shitty things and for once the good does NOT make up for that. Not really. 

I’ve seen the insides of hospitals way too often, I worried too fucking much and I am exhausted. I do know that 2022 won’t be much better - with parents getting more fragile every day it’s bound to happen. Which is fine, it’s how life works. It still sucks tho. 

BUT: even though dad’s spending Christmas AND New Year’s in hospital, he’s doing as okay as one can under the circumstances. And I’m looking after mom which gives me some peace of mind. 

No London. Which is horrible and I miss it so much it’s become painful. I had high hopes to go back sometime this year. It just didn’t happen. And I very much doubt that it’ll happen next year (although I will try to make that happen at some point, preferably during spring/summer). 

As of right now I will not make any plans - the few I made last year always got busted last minute. If things are supposed to happen, they will. If not, well… 

So, let’s see what nice things were there this year. 

I did discover that you CAN cut hair virtually - you only need a trusted person who’s wielding the shears and a good stylist to guide you through it! *hehe* 

I did get to see some of my friends in person again! B and V in Berlin which was MUCH needed. K once again on her balcony for a sunny Sunday. And I even managed to go see R for her birthday! 

I did go to a CON this year!!! YES! That happened! And I even got myself a lovely picture with the incredible Anthony Rapp, who continues to amaze me every day! That was one hell of a weekend! Well worth the constant testing after (Masks DO work, people, WEAR THEM!!) 

There were hugs and laughter and times where one could forget that we’re currently living in a fucking dumpster fire.

I found Ted Lasso, another feel good show - which in the end betrayed me in the very best ways and I can’t wait for S3! 

We got more Leverage, which continued to kick ass and take names. And we’ll get more next year so there’s that! 

I did go to the cinema a few times, mostly Marvel (always masked) and it was always worth it, especially the latest one. *grins* 

But, looking back NOW, the one amazing thing I will remember of 2021 was that Lin-Manuel Miranda singehandely saved it. 

We got In The Heights (delayed), we got Vivo and Encanto! 

And of course, we got Tick Tick…Boom!! That film has (and will) get me through every single tough moment, it’s my happy place, my security blanket, my everything for shitty days and sad moments. The music continues to play every single day and I’m still not the least bit bored of it yet. 

(IF you still haven’t watchd it, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?) Here’s hope for ALL THE AWARDS in the coming season. 

So yeah, it wasn’t all that terrible although I’m very happy to see the backside of 2021. 

I am putting high hopes on 2022 - you better not fuck this up again! 

As for everyone out there: Get vacc’d, it may just save your life *she says in Martin Crieff’s voice* ! Wear your mask, get tested if you can and as much as it sucks, do try to keep it together. We made it through two years, there MUST be a light at the end of this terribly long tunnel. 

Enjoy the small things: coffee with a friend (at home or virtually), a safe gathering with a handful trusted folks or a movie night with a comfort film.

I am so very thankful for my people out there, for the love and virtual hugs and the support when I needed it the most. I may have not given back as I normally would, but I will try better next year! Just know I do love you all and I’m so glad to have you all in my life!!! 

So here’s to a new start, stay safe, stay healthy, hold your loved ones close, tell them you love them and make the very best of it all!!! 

Happy New Year, beautiful people! We got this!

[skz222]

5.55 (han jisung)

contains: fluff, scenario, full length chaptered story, sfw, jisung x oc, lee know x oc, changbin x oc, jisung pov

word count: 2.8k

Previous chapter 

Chapter 1.3

July 13th, 2022

12:12 am.

I can’t sleep. 

Let me just go on Twitter or something I guess.

Scrolling, scrolling. It makes me feel better to see what Stays post about us, and it’s almost like going through a scrapbook of memories and it makes me feel better about being awake in a completely dark room right now. It almost feels like I’m ignoring something. The whole room...really is this dark huh..

I’m not going to wake up Hyunjin or Chan right now just because I’m scared of the dark.

Hah.

Maybe if I listen to some music I can sleep peacefully this time.

I don’t know why I keep having the same dream over and over, it’s almost every night at this point. I don’t even know if it’s something I don’t want to happen anymore. 

A warm and familiar hand starts rubbing my back gently.

“Why are you up so early baby?”

“I had a bad dream again...” 

Her back rubs comforted me but I felt agitated, like I wanted to go somewhere. How long have I even been up for? What time is it? I swear it’s only been 20 minutes but I can see the sky turning dark blue from black.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not now Eunji, baby. I just want to kind of be by myself right now.”

“Is it something about me?”

“No, I just need some time alone right now.”

“Okay...I have to go to work soon so I’ll be leaving first.”

“Alright. Have a good day. I love you.”

“I love you too!”

Leaning over, she puts her hand on my face for a kiss. It’s sloppy and full of morning breath, and for once I actually feel a bit grossed out. I’ve never felt that way before, not even about any of the members or anybody before. I just don’t think I want to kiss her anymore.

I’ll just wait until she leaves to write it down in my dream journal.

I watch her carefully as she silently changes into her work clothes in the dark, grabs her bag and shoes, phone and charger, and silently heads out the door with a wave and a smile. I smile back, but I’m not sure if I even wanted to or if it was just out of habit.

One, two, three, four.... beep beep beep.

She’s fully gone now.

I grab my journal from under the mattress, between the bed and the nightstand so it never peeks out. Flipping through the pages, I guess this one is the same as the last, like what, 15 dreams I’ve had but I can’t just not record it down right?

------------

June 6th, 2022

She’s late again huh....

5:55 pm

Two slices of cheesecake on my table, one for me and one for someone else.

Eunji walks in finally, and she looks hurried, like she just came from work - a bunch of bags in her hands. 

“I’m sorry I’m late baby! The stores were being difficult with your gifts so it made me late.”

“No don’t worry, I wasn’t waiting long.”

I hand her the bag on the floor next to me, just one big bag but it’s heavy. All of her bags are designer brands and mine was just a big mauve paper bag. 

“I know you really like these colors so I made sure to get one of each style in your best colors!” 

“Thank you Eunji, that’s sweet.”

“What is this? Oh my god are these the shoes I’ve been wanting for years? Hannie baby...that’s so thoughtful.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry it’s not as much as you got me, I just am more of a one, thoughtful gift kind of person, I guess.”

“I feel....bad Jisung....I feel like I wasn’t as thoughtful with my gifts.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I know sometimes, when you’re with someone for a long time, you do things that are easier because you have an understanding or a felling that that person will stay with you forever regardless or will love you the same regardless. I think a lot of people start treating the ones around them with less care and like they’re less precious as time goes on, because a lot of people only treat things that aren’t easily obtainable or accessible as precious or valuable rather than the things right in front of them. I understand that we all have “easy versus thoughtful” moments in our day to day life. It’s hard to ask you to be thoughtful for me in moments like this when I haven’t always been. It’s not a competition, but I understand it’s just hard sometimes.”

“You only talk like this, very touching and carefully, when you’re deciding on something big. Are you deciding on something important to you?”

“I guess I was just thinking out loud I guess.”

We sat and ate in silence. Well, I ate my slice, she just played around with it for a while. Sometimes I wish she’d just admit she doesn’t actually like cheesecake as much as me or nearly at all anymore, if she ever did.

Sometimes I wish she would just eat it at least a little bit just to humor me, if she’s not going to be honest with me about it.

I guess this is how our relationship is these days. Aren’t things supposed to be better and bubbly at least a little bit longer than a few months? I feel like things haven’t been genuinely the same for a while now. It just feels like the girl I used to think about wasn’t even real, or she changed so much that she’s like a different person now. 

I feel strange saying I loved her, or that I do love her. The girl I used to love isn’t the same and not even in a normal way that people change. I was always hesitant to say I love you because it never felt natural, even though I felt that way when she wasn’t around. 

It’s like she was really good at portraying an image of herself that she knew I would love and adore and cherish, but could never keep it up long enough for me to be completely fooled.

I’m not necessarily an owner, or a possessive lover. I value loyalty in my interpersonal relationships the most, and to me that means no flirting at all or anything past that. 

Today is our 200 day anniversary. I never made it this far in any of my younger relationships, which I think were just puppy love at best. I thought this would be something to look forward to, but I feel like I was actually dreading it for the past 100 days.

On our 100 day, she was late also. I prepared a really nice picnic date at our favorite park, one close to her parents house. I waited for 2 hours, I even called a few times and she never answered. Call me a fool, a puppy, whatever you have to, but I just ignored the feeling.

I went home, decided to take a shower instead. I try my best to be understanding and was worried that there was an emergency. After I showered, I went to her place and she was busy, on a phone call, with her guy friend. 

I didn’t really ask more than that, I just entered, heard them laughing and talking, and left. She apologized later, said she was caught up with an important conversation. I think that was the moment I knew she wasn’t the one for me.

I think I’m a stubborn person. I’m stubborn about love because I don’t want to fail, with friends I love or with people I love in general.

I don’t think I give my heart away easily, but I think I’m the kind of person that loves entirely and really trusts my instinct and intuition. If I feel something is right, I go for it and don’t hold back, so I think that is why I’m stubborn because I don’t want to think I was wrong.

I know these last 100 days weren’t spent in vain though, I just spent it figuring out myself. I was too excited to be able to date. Once the dating ban was up I think I just...became too hopeful and excited, I wanted to be with someone in that way so badly.

I wanted to have a romantic love and do all of those things I had been waiting to do. It was hard because I hadn’t been able to since I was a teenager, so I just kind of disregarded most of my logic and thoughts about waiting.

It’s not that I needed to love myself, because I got to spend those years doing that instead and I’m grateful, but I didn’t understand myself well enough. I didn’t understand why I was feeling that way, like I was “behind” everyone else. In my career, I’m ahead and I’m successful and I’m grateful.

I felt behind in life, like I had been too focused on my career and myself and finally I was able to give and receive this amazing new love. I was so excited that I didn’t take the time to see if it was actually something I needed or if she was the person for me.

I think that’s one of my faults. I rush things sometimes and stick to it, but what these past 100 days have taught me is that I shouldn’t be that way anymore. I have hindsight now, and I can see that sometimes things are karmic.

Sometimes things are a result of my haste. It’s okay to make mistakes in choosing people. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to change once you’ve seen the situation change or have new information about a person.

You can’t know everything off of a first meeting, and sometimes people make you see what you want to see.

________________________

July 13th, 2022

5:01 am

How is it already so late? I tried to write quickly...

I should read over it I guess, it kind of bothers me to have lots of errors-

Click.

?????????

Who is up right now?

Hyunjin beat me to it.

He got off the top bunk so fast I was almost sure he’d already been awake. Just casually getting off the bed, turning on the lights and opening the door.

I see someone leaving quickly, it’s another member? Right now? It’s barely light out...

Beep beep beep.

“Where is Minho going?”

“Huh...I don’t know, I didn’t think we had any schedules until at least 8 am?”

“We don’t....”

He looked confused but just shut off the light and climbed back to the top bunk.

I’ll quickly reread my journal before we have to start getting ready.

I had the same dream again last night. I was walking to the cafe, it was mid day but there were barely any people out for some reason. I was wearing a jacket even though it was hot, a cap and a mask. I went in and got my usual drink but wanted to grab a slice of cheesecake again.

There were only 3 other people in there, all girls. They were all minding their business, but were clearly friends. I look at the clock...

12:12 pm

I’m in no rush, but I can’t stop staring at the cheesecakes and pastries. I take off my hat and leave the mask. One of the girls came up to order another drink at the counter and another slice of cheesecake, she gets the strawberry one with extra strawberries. I look at her, but I can only see her chin and below.

She’s wearing her hair down, it falls just past her shoulders and is straight and black with a hint of purple. She has on a black tank top with an unbuttoned button up shirt over it, the shirt is white and short sleeved. She’s wearing light wash blue jeans and white tennis shoes. 

She’s laughing with the cashier, she said “Another one? You’ll never get tired of these huh?” and they laugh.

I smile at her, and I ask her for her name. She tells me but I can never remember it when I wak wake up. My drink and cheesecake are ready right afterwards, and I take them in both hands. She taps me on the shoulder and I turn around, I still can’t see above her chin, the dream will never let me. 

The light coming in from the windows is hitting her in the most beautiful way.

She asks me what kind of cheesecake I got, and I tell her mulberry.

“Oh! That makes sense. My Korean isn’t fluent yet so I couldn’t tell what that one was, thank you!” 

I smile and laugh, her voice and laugh, they make me feel something.

She turns around and sits back with her friends, at the table right in front of the register. She turns away as she sits down so I still can’t see her face, but I see the faces of her friends. They start laughing and this whole part is in slow motion.

Then I wake up. 

Why do I keep having this dream?

I used to feel bad that I kept having this dream when I started meeting Eunji, but then I remembered that I’ve been having this dream long before I knew her. Since when?

Flipping, flipping. 

No way...

Since July 13th, 2020?

Exactly two years ago?

Beep beep.

지금 바쁘니? 카페 빨리 와 <3 (Are you busy right now? Come to the cafe rn <3)

지금 왜???? 새벽엔??? (Right now? It’s early as hell??)

지금 다른 일을 있어...??? (U got something better to do?)

없어 (Nah)

그럼 빨리 와<3 <3 (Alrighty then get that ass over here <3)

아라써  (Yeah fine)

Why right now? Did he have an emergency and that’s why he left so early? I guess I do need a coffee..

-----------

Do I subconsciously dress this way to the cafe hoping I’ll meet her now? These past 100 days have been really sad for me just because I have that dream almost every night, especially since July started it’s literally every time. 

I feel kind of silly to be honest, maybe she isn’t even real. 

I don’t know why I’d dream of an imaginary girl, was I just that lonely? I don’t understand. 

The sun is coming out already, it feels so good to be in the sunlight right now. I feel so cold for some reason. 

Beep beep.

자기! 저녁식사!!!!! 같이 먹을래? 누나 사줄게 <3 (Babe do you want to get dinner tonight? My treat <3)

아, 스케줄 한이써, 미안. 보상해줄겡 (I actually have a schedule today I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you though.)

괜차나, 누나가 응원할게! (It’s okay, I’ll be cheering you on!)

I don’t even want to reply honestly..

Well I’m here finally.

I can see Minho and Changbin inside already..? With some random girls as well? They’re lucky it’s even too early for Dispatch to be out because there’s literally no one else here???

“Hey guys! Good morning!”

“Jisung! Come here come sit!”

“Ah thank you, I’m gonna order first!”

“Alright alright!”

“Can I get a hot milk chocolate with vanilla syrup and a slice of mulberry cheesecake please? Yes, thank you!”

“Hi, can I get another iced milk tea with a slice of cheesecake?”

“Of course ma’am, you don’t even have to order at this point.”

They’re laughing.

I look over, just not even thinking properly. I like her outfit, a black tank top with a white over shirt, jeans and some white shoes. Very pretty.

“Your food is ready sir!”

“Thank you very much! Hey scoot over so I can put my drink!””

Minho scooches over for me.

“Hey! I’m Ahyeon! Binnie told us a lot about you! This is Hyesoo and this is Hyojin!”

...Hyojin...

“Park Hyojin?”

“Oh? Do you two know each other?”

“No, I was just...guessing...”

The clothes, the barista interaction, this whole situation is almost exactly the same the time is off, the people, are you serious?

Did I only remember her name because Ahyeon said it out loud...

She’s still at the counter, her back turned and she’s just waiting, talking with the barista. She didn’t hear...

I should go home right now, I’m stinky I haven’t showered since yesterday, I’m wearing old clothes, I’m painfully nervous right now I feel like I’m not ready for this I don’t think I’ve ever felt my heart beating this loudly before am I going to pass out?

I get up abruptly and walk outside, ignoring everyone.

I should get ready for our schedule anyways, I’ll text them on the way back-

5:55 am.

“Hey hey hey wait up! Where are you going?”

[1dffexchange]

A Star is Torn

To: Christa @wild3flow3r​

From: Rory @verorax​

Warnings: Language, sexual content, mentions of substance abuse and a gunshot.

Summary: Harry Styles is known as the charming, perfect superstar who has not done a single wrong thing in his life. Abigail Quinn is known as the washed away superstar who has been doing tequila shots since she was eleven.

They fell in love, fast and hard. They thought they could make each other 'themselves' again but when you've spent an entire lifetime living a shallow, faux life, you don't really know what you were before the world made you who you are.

A story about tequila, empty homes, being a coward, and a journey down the ladder of success to meet everyone once lost

Or an ou inspired by Lady Gaga’s soul shattering song ‘Shallow’

Author's Note: hi christa! i'm so glad that i wrote this prompt and even more that i wrote this for you!! cheers to our friendship with this 25K story!

November 2022

At twenty eight, Harry Styles found himself sitting in the lobby of a hotel behind the big green chair that was particularly reserved for him in the name of privacy. A cup of black coffee (that he liked with brown sugar and the slightest tint of creamer) was cooling down in front of him, as of yet, lying completely untouched. And a copy of War and Peace remained etched to his eyes despite the fact that he wasn't really paying much of an attention to it.

Most people would sell their souls to live a day in Harry's luxurious Beverly Hills Mansion or the penthouse he had brought on the Sunset Strip last year, but to him they were all mere investments he'd done following the words of his financial advisor. Rather the penthouse he had brought was a gift for his sister, Gemma, on her wedding last summer. Not that it was needed; she barely ever came to LA, mostly loving the land of English too much. Thence Harry still had an extra key of the house just in case he decides to crash.

But that never really happened. Harry Styles wasn't happy being stagnant. His life has been a non stop routine of travelling, often living the same day twice (in different time zones) and then more almost losing an entire day by a few hours.

Travelling meant Harry had lived in Four Seasons more than he had lived in any place that was could be called home.

There was something about sitting in the lobby the way he was right now. He'd done it plenty of times. It allowed him to hear the crying of the toddler in his father's arms behind him or the couple whispering sweet nothings and giggling every once in a while, without worrying about all of the world's attention diverted to him as soon he entered a room (only making him more guilty). It gave him a sense of normality around him, even if he knew he'd never be a part of that normality.

California was the golden state. The first time Harry came to LA, he was still very seventeen, very much of a popboy and very much in One Direction. While rest of the boys found the place cool enough to hang out once in a while, Harry took the liking for it too hard. The fascination with the city of stars lodged itself in his brain, his heart, his soul, in that order. As if it was not enough, it slowly seeped down to the crinkles of his eyes, his dimpled grin and the crumpled papers on his stainless floor forming the subject of his multiple famous tunes. Eventually he realised why almost every celebrity finds LA more endearing than any other land. Sometimes he felt like he came to LA to take a break from reality as if he was on a world detox.

Maybe it was the the warmth of the sun or the lack of gloomy, rain sounds that dominated back in England – giving him an effusively jubilated feeling that maybe life is not as dark as people say when it came to Hollywood. But time made him learn – to get warm you must burn. That is why eleven years later he was still burning yet somehow thought the warmth was worth it.

From : Jeffrey

H!!!! Party tonight remember? At Catch, 7. I'll pick you up. And please get your Chevy from car wash first thing tomorrow morning, Glenne says

From : Harry

Who's party? Say hi to Glenne.

From : Jeffrey

YOUR party, idiot. 125 million remember, Richie Rich?

From : Harry

This is Glenne, I can tell from the tone.

From : Jeffrey

BE THERE BUT.

And yeaaaahhh Glenney here!

Harry chuckled as he kept his phone on his lap and took the coffee that was too cold for his liking now. His net worth had recently reached a whopping 125 million USD – a news that was given to him over the weekend, the first thing as he concluded his third solo tour. His mum was very proud of him, so was his sister, they both being in nearly tears. Both him and his mum had decided to give a good percent of it away on charity, the subject of which was yet to be decided.

But for now his ‘friends’ and tour mates needed a party, a well acclaimed event that his publicist wanted a lot of people to know about.

Harry would be lying if he said that it didn't matter. He had always been an ambitious lad, a perfectionist as Niall and often Liam would term it as. And watching a memento of his success, a new notch on his perfect, splashy, non tainted image as ‘superstar who only keeps on going higher’, it made him proud of his over-working nature. But what made him proud even more of the way his tour ended.

It was the most beautiful show he had ever played despite the fact that he said the same thing after every single show. The final show was in LA as it's always been, the crowd celebrating another Harry Styles Victory and it being attended by most of the people nearest and dearest to him. Of course when he looked back at it, in all those eleven years, there were so many more people he'd left behind than take along. But everytime that feeling started crawling up to him, he tried to push it away. These thoughts only made him guilty of his success. And as much as he tries to convince himself that this is how life is supposed to be, it still stung and each absence left a gaping hole in his existence, never mended by time.

As he finished his coffee, placing the empty cup carefully on the table he knew he had to go back to his room in order to get ready; seven was not long away. And then as he turned around glancing at the once crying toddler who was now sleeping peacefully in his father's arms Harry thought, maybe it was how it's always supposed to be – first it's shallow then deeper. He just didn't know where and when his deeper was going to come.

■■■

LA’s dining scene was a notorious fickle. While Harry usually preferred his Cafe Habana in Malibu or the very paps free zone of Cavatina, when it came to anything in public view it always came down to Catch. Despite Harry and Jeffrey's unlikeliness for the dine-here-drink-here restaurant, Glenne happens to drag them there on several occasions, making sure Harry wears his hair well on those days. She usually says, “Harry it's a pap pic day. I need you in a good shirt and do not forget to brush the untamable disheveled wig of yours.”

Glenne was Jeffrey's wife. Sometimes looking at them, Harry felt ridiculously jealous. He was a man of twenty eight, a hopeless romantic at heart and very unfortunate when it came to his love life. All of his bandmates have had some or the other real relationship in their lives, so did his closest friends after the band and even his very shy often geeky sister. All of this only made him pity on his situation, often making him wonder where he goes wrong when it comes to love.

After a whirlwind of congratulatory hugs and being bubbly, jumping from one group to another, and raising a toast in the name of his entire team, Harry felt his job was done for the night. He had done everything mandatory and the rest left was just chilling. That's when he excused himself from Jeffrey's grip, wanting nothing more than some cool air that could parch down his body temperature, some space to breathe until he finds himself oxygenated enough to go back to his mates.

He usually loves a good party, but what he hates is the aftermath. Once the party is over, everyone leaves. Harry, though would spend hours at the party location, not leaving till the echoes of people from the night slowly dims into oblivion and he can actually hear his heart beating – that's how silent everything becomes. That is when he leaves, trying to find another place so loud that he can't hear his own thoughts.

The rooftop was not a good idea. It had a gorgeous view and that usually meant his model friends and guests were out there taking the best pictures of the night to flaunt brazenly on their Instagram pages. And if Harry happened to be in room, as always, he'll have to pose with them – in groups, solo – all of it sounding nothing but another hour of smiles and cameras to him.

So instead he took the spot beside the door of the rooftop, leaning his back on the wall and closing his eyes in silence. The November breeze was cold on his face, as if opening the pores on his skin that had been closed due to excessive make-up. It was a feel good, the music being lighter than ever and Harry felt that he was deported to a silent room yet with lot of human presence, the body heat around him reminding him that — the exact way he wanted it all to be.

“Tequila?” Harry’s face perked up at someone talking to him. For a moment he gasped at the voice but soon came to a rest when he saw a girl with blonde hair, average height and cocked up eyebrow holding out a tequila glass to him.

“Thank you.” He sighed, taking the drink from her hand, something that made her smile. She was wearing a denim ankle length jeans and an overused washed away Rolling Stones tee. For a moment Harry felt she didn't have an idea of what the party was about. Most females here were kind of dressed up (not the gown dressed up, the fancy dinner dressed up). But what a woman wore was not much of his worry, at all actually.

“You're welcome.” She said crossing her hands over her chest and standing beside him.

Harry was still nursing the tequila when a thought occurred to him. He kind of chuckled speaking, “Is it by any means spiked? I mean I didn't ask for this and you're just coming here and offering me a drink.”

That earned him a laugh. “Ah don't worry, I by no means intend of taking you to bed and stripping you down once you're inebriated.” The blonde shrugged, pushing her hair away. She sounded innocent but the glint of smirk on her face said otherwise. “Just thought the host doesn't look good sans a glass of drink.”

“Very considerate of you… but I'm not buying that. You don't even have a drink yourself.” He suggested cheekily when she looked at him with a bewildered expression.

“Come on, can't a girl be nice?” Harry's expression was still skeptical but he nodded nonetheless. When after a few moments he opened his mouth to speak again, the blonde rolled her eyes giving away the act and taking a hold of his arm. “Okay, listen I know it usually happens later at night but I'll keep it hidden and very quick.”

“Are you by any means asking me for a quickie? I usually chat first, maybe share a drink-”

“A bill. A green note.” She interjected him.

“So you're asking me for money?” Harry still sounded as lost and confused as he did.

This only made the blonde sigh, she stretched on her toes moving closer to Harry so she could whisper into his ear. “A rolled green note? I know you might have it hidden around.”

Realisation hit him, only making his eyes go wide before he awkwardly chuckled. “I..I don't. Sorry, I don't do cocaine.”

“That's a lie, pal.” She scoffed. “It's just me you can let with the nice guy act slip. Nothing wrong in mild spliff.”

It's just me. Harry never understood that line. Maybe because nobody ever said anything like that to him. And nobody did because they were intimidated by him, his name, his fame and things that come along. But now that this girl had said it, he wanted to know what that line actually means.

“You really don't?” She asked moving a hand around his face only getting a guilty shrug. “How do you not? Cocaine is like water for celebrities.”

“I've heard that.” He nodded being reminded the above statement too often. “But I roll away with a weed max, that too very rare.”

“Weed at max? Not even acid.” He shook his head kind of embarrassed at this point the way she was looking at him. In that moment he thought she might rebuke him and leave but when she pouted, still keeping her stand he had started feeling more comfortable. “Damn you. What did I even sacrifice my tequila for?”

He laughed taking his first sip of the tequila. “I am so sorry that you had sacrifice your tequila. But I can promise you that later at night a lot of people can give you a rolled green note.”

“I'm not staying that late.” She announced once she had checked time from her watch. After what looked like a little thought, the blonde added, “And actually thank you that you don't have it. I have a class early morning tomorrow and can't be jammed before that.”

Harry was overwhelmed by this information. It was rare finding people who go to school at such parties. Nonetheless he nodded. “Tequila? If that's not jamming.” He offered her a drink that he had just taken from the tray one of the waiters was carrying. The blonde nodded with a small smile, taking his offer.

“Abigail Quinn.” She brought a hand forward and he gently took it in courtesy.

“Harry Styles.”

Harry said that because it seemed the only right thing to say. Abigail Quinn was no random name. The world knew her as childhood star from a famous Disney sitcom called ‘Bunker Hill’, who's been doing vodka shots since she was eleven. He remembered that he had to meet her somewhere when he was nineteen, very vaguely though. Niall had a huge crush on her, he had stolen Harry's cologne because it apparently ‘attracted woman’, to impress her. She never came to meet them. They were told she got stuck in work hammering Niall's timid heart but the news of her being arrested on the account of drink and drive the next day was not something that could be hidden away from them.

“Where do you study?” Harry questioned in a cautious tone, with everything about Abigail's past it was a rather caution worthy subject.

“UCLA psychology.” She answered without a click as if the answer was lying in the tip of her tongue. Though her further addition came after a good pause. “Well I'm kind of focussing on substance abuse issues.”

Harry tried everything in him to keep his demeanour as normal as it can be, too scared he'd do something that will offend her away. He could only imagine how most people react to everything she does nowadays after the wildest history from her past – all splashed on papers. “So you went back to school?” Harry asked, sounding even to himself somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah. My mom said that the only way I'd be allowed to come back in LA is if I go to school.” Abigail shrugged. “It's fine, you can ask if it's weird or not.”

“Sorry,” Harry's voice was like a drawl, genuinely guilty. “No offense but it's already weird being in the public eye. Then school.. I'd never be able to do it.”

“I hope you never have to. At least some of us can stay a stellar superstar.” The last part came as a mutter and Harry could see that Abigail regretting saying it. But it was the first time ever since this conversation began that he had looked at her face properly, brazenly, not peeking a glance but rather studying every feature; not even blinking properly. “What's actually weird is being 27 and an undergrad. I look like a middle aged woman with six children. Even if I talk to guys they act as if I am a madam. ‘Lady Quinn, can you tell me the schedule of tomorrow?’”

Her mocking voice was extremely humorous and Harry didn't mind laughing along. “I think you're being too hard on yourself. You look pretty fit and young.”

“You would say that, you're my age. Ask the kid who nearly drools on my shoulder whenever he's too sleepy in class.” She rolled her eyes before they both had started laughing. What seemed like a laughter for eternity but rather lasted a few minutes, she looked back at him nudging his side. “What about you? How do you feel about your 125 million grands?”

Harry sighed at the question. “It's a great feeling of accomplishment and I'm glad I'll be able to help people. A good share of it is going on charity.”

“Charity? I would've brought a wine cellar with it. Not that I didn't have one.” She told, this time being quite more confident.

“That's a very nice investment. At the end of my next tour, I'll be sure to contact you to get a wine cell.” The sarcasm in his voice earned him a slap on his chest.

There onwards, for the first time ever since his last show ended, Harry felt like himself. It was not much except for a constant bicker, throwing in comments about the weird metallic furniture or mocking the group of social media addicts on the rooftop. But it made something alive in him, something that could expand his jaw in wide smile. They were drinking tequila for the longest time known to man, it might even have been a little more than an hour as they sat on the couch right beside the rooftop door, laughing incessantly.

Due to the flame of the fire that was a part of the decor, Abigail's face was lit up highlighting the golden of her hair or the pale skin and pink chaste lips. It made Harry blush slightly when his eyes lingered on her lips a little too long.

“Abigail why don't you go home already? You have a class.” Harry asked.

“Yes but I can't leave yet.” She shrugged sighing in a slurry tone. “All thanks to you this place is very much pap friendly, sneaking inside was already a task now leaving would be much worse. Especially when there's no one else leaving.”

She probably said that all in fun but it made Harry feel ridiculously guilty. Time and again he had been reminded of how he influenced the lives of people around him but he never knew that he even impacted the life of people outside his life.

He offered her a crooked smile, unsure of what to say next. After contemplating in wry silence, he offered. “How about… I drop you? My driver, I mean. There's a backdoor and we will have our privacy.”

Abigail bit her lip opening and closing her mouth several times. “That's very sweet Harry.. but I'll have to pass. It's your party, you don't have to do so muc-”

“I insist, please,” he cut her off, placing a hand over hers.

Abigail lived in a quiet residential area of Century City. It was close to school and allowed her to commute easily, she told him. The entire ride their conversation was very similar to the one in the restaurant just this one delved more into the recent happenings of their lives, superficially. It was blatant that Abigail enjoyed school more than acting, even at an unconventional age, from the way she talked about it. On the other hand Harry seemed more intrigued by the psychology student beside him.

The car pulled to a halt outside a three storied, little building beside a flower shop. He couldn’t help but examine the area outside to see if there were any photographers, who might have been following them. Abigail got out of the car, keeping her head low. It kind of made Harry feel better that she was accustomed to this life just the way he was.

She turned on her toes to a pulled down window, “Thank you so much for this ride.”

He nodded in generous appreciation, beholding for a little while if he should accompany her to the door. So when Harry got out of the car, following her with his hands in his pockets, Abigail looked at him in a strange yet nervous way.

He couldn't blame her though, she must've been used to men thinking it was their right to let into any woman's house if they had offered to drop her. Those terms were often synonymous in Hollywood.

“Uh.. don't worry. I just thought of dropping you to the door.” He reassured, rubbing his neck uncomfortably.

She winced dramatically, “Bad luck Abigail! First I couldn't spike your drink, now I couldn't seduce you to inside.” Harry laughed very hard at her statement and from the looks of it, Abigail appreciated it. “Not every guy gives me a ride home and goes back from the door. That's sweet, popstar.”

“Not every girl gives me a her tequila in order to get a rolled green note. That's-” He spoke cheekily before being cut off.

“I'm taking the sweet back.”

■ ■ ■

December 2022

Abigail was mates with Glenne. Harry discovered this when Glenne asked him how she was in his car – something he was sure the driver must've told her. What more sufficed was that Jeffrey wasn't very pleased with the situation, even after being reassured by Harry several times that he came back from the doorstep.

They were taking some time off. They usually did post touring but with this album being just on the verge of beginning, Jeffrey knew that it wouldn't be the same time next year that they'll be touring. As much as Harry loved believing that Jeffrey was his mate, he was first a part of his management team. Hence his concern of Abigail Quinn was not just a concern of a friend but one of a manager. Harry somehow hoped he'd let this topic pass off.

A few weeks in, Harry had to move into his Beverly Hills mansion. He was glad that his first night in the house was raided by Jeff Bhasker, Alex Salibian and some other of his music colleagues, it only made him feel more in the buzz, the way he was used to. He needed coffee and exercise, in that order. His mum often joked that he had technically turned American given how he has traded his family favourite Earl Grey for darker and bitterer caffeine. Sometimes he wished he was a fan of instant coffee, that would have cut him a good slack of work but he was not and that's why when his coffee machine gritted and didn't respond due to lack of usage he knew he had to take some on his way to his Soul Cycling class.

The Soul Cycling class was a twelve minute ride on normal traffic from his place. Taking on his Chevy, he found a spot closest to the door incase a quick escape was necessary before walking into the tiny coffee shop beside the building. The queue this morning was unnecessarily long but Harry was fine as long as people didn't approach him for anything more than a selfie.

“So tequila at night, coffee in morning?”

He recognised that sound quickly. Particularly he recognized the word tequila said in that sound quickly. Tequila had not been the same word since Harry met Abigail.

“Abigail, to what do I owe the honor.” A very warm smile was an instinct as he turned around.

“Who would've known you enjoy a coffee pre-exercise, superstar?”

“Well being absolutely guilty here but these ones are too good to resist.” Harry shrugged. “Better point, I don't get women asking for a rolled note in exchange of their coffees.”

Abigail rolled her eyes at him without any hesitation. “At least I'm not the person who hasn't even taken acid in his thirty years of lifetime.”

“Twenty eight. And I proudly steer clear of them.” Harry bit his lip once, a certain memory coming in his head. He contemplated for moment if they were on the page of him mentioning one of his ex band mates. He hadn't mentioned them to anyone in a long while, as if they were never a part of his life. But then he remembered her words – it's just me and so he went with it. “Once my bandmate, Louis tried a narcotic, only ended up in fits of nosebleeds. A terrible sight, he was only twenty.”

“Poor guy. But he just needed a good tutor. I'm sure he's got used to it by now. Or if not you can always send him to me.” She winked playfully. “I can even tutor you.”

“Tutor for taking narcotics? Thank you so much but I'll have to decline.”

Harry didn't know how joking about drugs had become so normal to him. This is something he's never done. When all of his band mates, Niall included, were trying their firsts in the world of substance, Harry had steered away. He never judged people who did it, he just didn't want everything he had being wasted because of it. Time and again he had promised himself of discipline. He always thought it was only discipline that could make him who he aimed to be – ‘superstar who only keeps on going higher.’ Harry was an ambitious workaholic – another reason as to why he had missed and lost so many things in his life. It wasn't just drugs or it wasn't drugs at all. It was everything and everyone else his farce cry for discipline sent away.

“I never knew you were mates with Glenne.” Harry said putting a hand in his Nike track jacket.

“Glenne Christiaansen?” Abigail earned a nod compelling her to continue. “Yeah we met through a common friend. Crazy girl to say the least.”

“She says the same thing about you.” Harry could tell that Abigail was amused that she was a subject of his conversations with his friends. He was somewhere hoping she wouldn't say it loud, it'll only make him blush. “Says you two haven't talked in a while.”

“I haven't been in LA in a while, otherwise we're pretty good.”

Harry glanced up to place his order as they were next in the queue. He took a simple americano and moved aside for Abigail to take her turn. But when she instead followed him, he was compelled to ask.“What? You won't be taking a coffee?”

“I left my wallet at home.” She wrinkled her nose.

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “Don't be daft; I wouldn’t let you pay anyways.” "Why not?” “Because I am a gentleman,” Harry explained. And just before Abigail could argue on the topic of feminism, something he knew she was about to, he added “You can always pay me back.”

Abigail didn't actually go for a coffee. When Harry told her about his mother's personal favorite chai latte at the shop she was adamant to try it.

“How will I pay you back?” Abigail asked Harry for the tenth time when he told her that she had nothing to worry about.

“You've got a point. Given how you don't even have my number.” He cheekily commented knowing where this was going.

“If you wanted my number, Harry all you had to do was ask.” Harry was smiling sheepishly as a pink patch crawled up his neck. “Just kidding, you can have it of you want.”

He reached out for her phone that she had unlocked and slid in his direction. “Why do you have emojis in front of all your contacts rather their surnames?”

“Because they're emotions.” Abigail shrugged. “And I associate people with emotions.”

“What do I get, then?”

Abigail put a tongue to her cheek before slowly forming a grin. She took her phone from his hand, keeping him to only watch her deviously pull his contact, sneaking a glance at him every once in a while. She passed it back to him, earning a loud laugh from Harry as he saw the a tequila shot emoji in front of his name.

Abigail was an avid conversationalist, Harry learnt very quickly. The entire forty five minutes of stationary cycling was highly dominated by Harry and Abigail’s inappropriate amount of laughter and bizarre looks that the rest of the cycling mates were sending their way.

“You're not coming?” Harry asked Abigail when he was just a few steps away from the door after their class was over.

She coughed awkwardly in response “I have to meet a friend. Catch with you later.”

Her words only received a tiny nod and respectable smile from Harry though the roll of her lips told him how it was a lot more to do with the line of paps waiting on the road in front than her meeting a friend.

■ ■ ■

February 2023

When Harry returned to LA a week after his birthday, he again went to a hotel instead of pulling into his Beverly Hills ‘bachelor pad’ as the media would term it. He personally thought he was too old for the term. Most of evenings he was not working, were spent in Abigail’s studio apartment that was too tiny to hold a place for two yet managed to grasp Harry's heart every time he went there.

He would cook her dinner as she managed to get her assignments done, mostly a soft tune playing in the background to fill the voids of silence. He would laugh whenever she complained about her professor being a sleepy moronic prick or her not finding her school supplements in the mess of her apartment, but let her go on anyways.

Fact was that Harry loved listening to her. It was probably the way she talked, with expressions and pressure that managed to intrigue him, making him realise why a good population of the world swooned over her acting skills on silver screen back in his teenage days.

“Do you think social media addiction can be qualified as an addiction?” Abigail inquired, eying Harry's plate of remaining Bolognese pasta after she had finished her own.

“Well given how you put the term addiction there, I think that's already a giveaway.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water directly from the bottle lying between them before snapping her hand away when she was trying to sneak in a bite. “Oi!”

“What? You're using my kitchen, my packet of pasta, my utensils. I deserve an extra bite, at least.” She argued, side-eying him before placing her hands in front of her chest.

“And you're having this because of my cooking skills, so steer clear.” He said proudly but when Abigail pouted at him he couldn't help but divide his leftover in half to share with her.

Grinning widely, she took her bite before continuing, “No, I meant, is it addiction enough to qualify in the realms of a post-graduation subject?”

“You're thinking of post-graduation?” He was inquisitive when he got up from the single couch in the apartment where they both had been sitting, having their dinner.

“Not me, just something I heard in the campus. To be frank it was weird in my opinion.” She followed him to the kitchen as he grabbed an apron from the doorstand, “Hey you can leave the dishes, I can do them tomorrow.”

“Yes just like we could've ordered a chinese takeaway but I cooked for us on this Friday night and didn't even get much of a thank you.” He dotted a boyish grin, one that earned him a little slap.

“Correction, superstar. You cooked for my gifted shirt, because it seriously has more pasta than my stomach.” She chuckled looking up and down the simple, white button up that she had gifted Harry for his birthday few weeks back.

She had gotten it on a sale at The Grove while Harry was in England for his birthday. It wasn't much, not any Gucci or Louis Vuitton that he was used to yet it was his favourite ever since he had received it. That is why Harry had gasped multiple times, even freaking out a little when, while cooking, his shirt was contaminated with a good amount of pasta sauce. Abigail told him it was nothing that a little wash won't run away even promising him that they both can wash it together this Sunday.

“I told you I am sorry.” He shook his head guilty but both of them knew that it was only Abigail pulling his leg.

She asked him to stay over, arguing that it was too late and too cold for Harry to go back to his place. Harry tried putting in his courtesy but truth be told he was elated to spend some more time with her. They took turns for the washroom, him going first before changing into a trouser and loose t-shirt for decency.

When Abigail went to the washroom, she left Harry alone amidst his thoughts and some time to vaguely pass. He spent a little while scroll down his newsfeed but eventually gave up, feeling bored. That's when he stood up, examining the walls of Abigail's house. There were numerous pictures, some of her and her family who lived in Pennsylvania, some from her teenage days. She looked very pretty even back then, he thought. He was still in the midst of going through them when he saw a small jammed drawer. It wasn't hidden on purpose but looked like it was discarded, full of old stuff...

“Those are a couple of awards I got for my sitcom back in day.” Abigail broke his trail of thoughts, her wet hair open only sitting on her shoulder. Opening the drawer and picking a trophy from what seemed a bunch of them, she said, “Outstanding Children's Award for Best Actress. Can you imagine I was children's favourite artist at sixteen? I hated children back at that time.”

She showed him the old, stained trophy laughing at it before going for another and another. But Harry wasn't paying much of an attention to the list of awards in her name. He was paying attention to the way she mocked them, as if she was embarrassed about them.

“Have you thought of going back?” He catechised, out of the blue. “Into acting I meant.”

“Never.” Abigail replied closing away the rack and going towards her bed to set pillows and sheets. “There's a reason why you leave some things. Sometimes the reasons are so strong that they control your life.”

Harry nodded knowingly. He knew that feeling, the only difference in their case being that he still didn't know the reason why he had left so many things. Sighing deeply, he picked up a pillow and a cover from her side, walking subconsciously.

“Where are you going?” She asked him with furrowed brows.

“I was thinking of sleeping in the floor.” He replied earnestly.

She laughed at him.“H, we can share a bed. You're cute and all but don't worry, I can control myself.”

■ ■ ■

April 2023

It was five days in April when Abigail finished her winter quarter finals and the first thing she demanded after stepping into Harry's Chevy, was to take her to his home. By instinct Harry turned in the direction of Century City, not long before she pulled him to a halt, rephrasing it as, “Your home, not mine. The Beverly Hills one.”

What would usually make him feel embarrassed, made Harry anxious. She had clearly stated ‘his’ home in the first place. But home was not what he linked with his Beverly Hills pad; actually home has always been an incognito term for him. Yet how he had subliminally taken the word home synonymous to Abigail's tiny apartment bewildered him.

It was a weird feeling creeping down on him. Attachment, he'd tell Glenne or Gemma whenever they brought it up. But then again, he knew better than anyone else that attachment is one thing that ruins you more than love can. At least love is a term of assurance; attachment is love without clarity. Attachment is so near to love yet so far away; attachment almost love. And that almost ruins you.

The entire car ride, Abigail was talking about her exams and her final year nearing by. And Harry was listening, listening and listening. He wanted to listen to her forever, maybe that would help him forget about the devious feeling hovering over his head. And it did, as always.

As Harry gave Abigail the code to the gate of his mansion he suddenly felt more apprehensive than ever.

This house was supposed to be his, but every night that he had to spent here (whenever he wasn't at Abigail's) he felt lost in his own world. He would walk the halls three times at night, unable to sleep, passing through the massive piano in the hall that he didn't play anymore. He would check out the pool, the foyer, the wine cell, even the barbecue lawn that was never used. There were several nights he would simply jump into the pool, sitting alone in the cold water for hours with his equally cold thoughts. There was nothing here except for overrated, comfortable silence.

And now for the first time Abigail was walking into this place, completely unaware of Harry's thoughts on it.

“Voila!” She sang entering the main hall in anticipation, pulling her hands wide in Vanna White style. “Why does this place echo, H?”

“Maybe because of lack furniture. Ain't that what science says?” He said placing the keys of his car on an underused coffee table and following her into the main hall.

“I think it's because of lack of people.” Abigail countered, running her hands over the fine leather of the main sofa. She placed her backpack on the floor beside the table, taking off her shoes and popping down on the sofa.

“Would you like a tour? Or we can first have some wine from the cell.” Harry asked in a humble tone, standing in front of her tired form.

“You have a wine cell?” Abigail gasped loudly at his statement, standing up at the speed of flash. “Do you know how fucking lucky you are?”

“Right, not lucky for having headline tours, back to back albums and awards, being chosen into One Direction. But lucky to have a wine cell. Nice perception.” He mocked her joyously before walking towards the black, all packed wine cellar which could be mistaken for a textured wall. “Which one?”

“I mean it's your cell, you have every right to chose, superstar with a posh Beverly Hills pad.” She spoke, following him into the massive room starred with wine on all four corners. Abigail tried to remain decent but it was evident how much in awe of the cell she was; and Harry was just as much in awe of her.

“Ladies first. My mum taught me manners, remember?” His voice was low and sexy as he spoke into her ear from behind. When she whipped her head halfway to see him in the vicinity he was, he raised his eyebrows, a hand slipping into her waist. They stood there for a while, not breaking their eye contact in between sporadic breaths and growing pulse. Harry took his time to appreciate every corner of her face – from her eyelashes to the highlight of her nose, back up to her glowing forehead marked by a single blonde hair strand and finally down to her lips. The extremely pink, highly kissable lips he often spent time thinking about.

Abigail breathed audibly, something that was followed by an awkward cough. Moving towards the directory of the cell, she scanned through the book aimlessly under Harry's deep gaze on her. He could see that her cheeks were burning red and she bit and chewed her lips nervously. “This is a gorgeous collection, H. I really get to choose?”

When she looked back at him humming a yes, she thanked him with a wide smile before moving forward to take out the wine she had chosen. It was a red Bordeaux encased in dark glass, one they decided to share directly from the bottle. Abigail proposed to toast on their way because she was extremely excited to see Harry's ‘home’ and all other wonders he had kept hidden from her.

They walked down halls through the floors, admiring the kitchen, the foyer, the paintings that Harry had collected over the years but never looked back at, the lawn with its multiple exquisites, moving to the pool area and back into the interior. Abigail gushed over the walk-in closet that was probably more spacious than her entire apartment and the sick, new television launched by Google with virtual space technology, one that Harry doesn't even remember how to switch on.

Half a bottle later they were back in the living room and Abigail was still swooning over the entire place when her eyes fell on a black and red box in the corner of the room. She stood up and trudged towards the corner of Harry's living room, primarily focussed on the cute Crosley record player that was resting there comfortably.

“You are such an untrustworthy person, Harry. First you have a wine cell then a record player and you were keeping them all from me.” She accused him, hands running over the victrola.

Harry followed her suite in order to comprehend the reason of his indict. Realising her reference, he pulled his hands up, “In all of my defense I cook us dinner at least four times a week and I never pegged you for a record player fan.”

“Really? What did you peg me for?” She asked him with a frown.

“You always play Apple Music, you know the modern world girl. Not vintage.”

“Well then you surely had a few strong wrong inhibitions on me.” She countered, looking over to the drawer with his vinyl collections in awe, “ My mother used to play her vinyl collection everytime she had to make me do my homework after shooting. They kind of soothed me because it was usually past dinner when I'd get time touch my books.”

“You worked very hard, Abby.” He enunciated softly as if it was a fact.

“I guess.” Abigail laughed, shaking her head. “Is it vintage? The record player.”

“Sure is.” Harry confirmed.

“Play me some?” It was more of a statement than a request but Harry was quick to abide. Abigail move aside, giving him enough space to go through his vinyls. Music was Harry's reign, his love, his way of expression, his art and Abigail trusted him with it.

After a protracted period, he brought out a single CD, putting it in the player and turning on the sound.

“‘Love Me Tender’, very appreciable.” Abigail raised her eyebrows in reverence, recognizing the Elvis Presley song as soon as words entered the track.

Harry turned around slowly after putting the record on, his hands behind his back as he took long, slow steps in her direction. “Well what would be more appreciable is if you dance with me? For Sir Presley.”

She stared at his outstretched palm, before laughing and shoving him aside. “Bucker off Styles Boy.”

But Harry was quick to get a hold of her hand, swinging her back, right into his arms. “Come on, don't tell me you only study over music. The best way to live music is to dance on it.” It was probably the wine that had given him all the confidence in the world because Harry was too calm and confident for their faces being only inches apart. Abigail on the other hand, wasn't. “Do you trust me, Abby?” He asked looking straight into her eyes receiving a very weak but sure nod. “Then dance with me.”

This time Abigail took Harry's offered palm willingly, something that brought a huge smile to his face. He parted away from her guiding them towards the hall where they had some empty space before pulling her towards him. Her hands snaked around his shoulders and his went around her waist, pretty smoothly to say the least. It was feel good, rhythmic and slow with Harry leading their dance.

“Okay, this is not as awful as I thought.” Abigail observed slowly with a smile.

“I guess I can be of some use.” Harry said proudly, thumb tapping on her hip.

“So tell me, are there any stories to this?”

“A lot of them – few girlfriends, loads of shags, it often starts with a romantic dance.” Harry winked at her cheekily, gaining a deep glare from her. “Oi, I was kidding Abby.”

He took her hand to swirl her twice before pulling her back into his arms, it had her giggling loudly. “I meant the vinyls, how you have them listed and arranged by genre.”

The cheery smile on his face was replaced my one that was slightly sad. Nonetheless he replied, “The entire collection was my dad’s. Every time I visited him, growing up we would listen to it. He.. he left it for me with a note after...after his death last year.”

“Oh,” Abigail took a moment to absorb the new information, stopping her feet slowly. “I am so sorry Harry.”

“Can we please keep on doing this?” Harry gestured, referring to their dance, he knew well he needed some sort of distraction if he was going to continue. Abigail nodded in response, now their once seemingly romantic dance turned into simple swaying in rhythm. “It was weird, him leaving even though I didn't grew up around him much. First Robin left us a few years back, then dad. That kind of made me more of a man of the family than I already was.”

Abigail nodded understandingly, watching live the glint of sadness in his eyes that she'd always seen somewhere hidden.

“You know dad hated my job.” Harry added with a dry chuckle. “He told me that it would ruin everything, that every celebrity goes down into a deep pithole someday. I had challenged him that my behaviour will never falter down, I'd be clean.”

Abigail had her eyes furrowed deep in concentration as if it was the most important thing she had ever heard. “And that's what you've been trying to live upto all this while?”

“You know this world, Abby. It's pretty easy to slip, ain't it?” He looked down, biting his lips.“I did everything in me to prove it to him but… but he didn't. I couldn't make him proud while he was here,” Harry mumbled a ‘shit’ when he realised a little tear escaping his eye.

“Oi,” Abigail instinctively reached the tear before him, wiping it away.

“I'm sorry if I'm a bit emotional.” He chortled nervously between patchy breathing, “I've never really shown these vinyls to anyone, never said these things loud and I mean just.. fuck.. I'm a mess.”

“It's okay. It's absolutely okay.” She lifted his chin, making him look up at her. Harry had never appreciated her more than this moment itself, her look enough to calm down his nerves.

He was still swaying slightly, Abigail's head resting on his chest as she spoke more words of brightness to him. He wanted this to go on forever, her telling him how everything would be okay through and through and him listening; listening to her for hours, days, maybe even years.

“H, can I ask you something?” Abigail’s voice was timid and raw from not speaking for a long time. “Why did you show it to me when you’ve never shown this to anyone?”

“Because it's just you.”

She lifted her head slowly from Harry's chest and he watched her hair stuck on the button of his shirt. To be frank he never wanted to let that strand of hair off his shirt, maybe that would mean that she'll stay here in his arms, her warmth wiping away the coldness of the floor. And maybe for the first time this warmth won't burn him.

Harry couldn't formulate anything, it was all conveniently spontaneous when his hand cradled her jaw, tilting her head upwards. A slight shiver went down his back when Abigail responded by fisting his shirt tightly.

He could smell peppermint on her breath and hear the low, sporadic breaths that escaped from her parted lips. His lips grazed over her own, the simple hesitation casting a shadow of doubt in his mind. But when her mouth met his, all feelings of uncertainty in his mind vanished immediately. It wasn’t much, a simple feathery brushing of lips, mouths moving gently over one another and then fell into a rhythm of sorts.

Harry had never anticipated this with Abigail. They've been friends since November when they first met. Most of his endeavours till date were either quick attraction or purposeful dating. But with Abigail it was so different. There was a built up, like a story with layers. Everything here was slow, everything had a meaning and this everything was what he was getting attached to. With Abigail it was first shallow then deeper and Harry was ready to dive in.

A friendship that started with a simple tequila came here to them taking off each other's clothes tonight. And Harry didn't know where any of this would go ahead. But all of the thoughts and consequences could patiently wait for the next day.

■ ■ ■

May 2023

It was one truth that Harry Styles found nothing more endearing than a productive day of songwriting and recording.

And another that Harry Styles was unstoppable, more because he never really wanted to stop than because he geared competition. When he recorded his first album, he had done it in Jamaica and Los Angeles, purposely renting an entire mansion where all of his mates could sit and focus on making his debut album a hit. During his second album, he was more public – through the year he oscillated between LA and London, in between his MET Gala chairmanship, his Gucci campaigns and a fashion line coming out. The third one was marked by casual dates, meaningless relationships and loneliness, the events in his life at that time. But what all of them had common was that they were never about a single person or emotion. Every song had a different story as opposed to the entire album being one story with different chapters. He blamed it on the fact that he had no one to go home to once the recording was over.

This time it was different, very different. Because this time Abigail was a huge part of his album. The tone, the lyrics and the sounds did not have voids anymore. They seemed somewhat full, somewhat content even if it all was just halfway there.

And it did not go unnoticed.

“What was that girl's name, again?” Alex asked resting on the sofa where Harry, Carl, Mitch, and Alex himself were all seated, drinking water after completing a session.

“I think it started with A.” Carl earned a glare from Harry at his words. He knew well that they were just messing around with him.

“Abigail.” Mitch commented before excusing himself to call his fiancé, Sara.

“Abigail. And now I see what all the fuss is about and who you’ve been writing all these songs about,” Alex commented cheekily, before sharing a clap with Carl.

The songs. They were everywhere – from his antique leather journal to scribbled on the corners of waste newspapers. And every night after Abigail went to sleep, Harry would take out his typewriter, trying to phrase out something tangible from his cluttered words on the journal to printed form. It was not much, just diluted words put into grammatically wrong sentences and a mess in summary. Just like what Harry's mind was everytime he thought about the night they first had sex and every after.

It had become a routine. After initial hesitation, Abigail and Harry had eventually given the shadow cast of doubt away and used actions more than words. They would kiss each other every time they were leaving the house (his mansion or her apartment wherever they had spent the night), snog incessantly over tequila and sleep on the same bed often waking up to each other's naked bodies.

But never talk about it.

Nonetheless Harry was happy. Now he was no longer jealous when Mitch would call Sara everytime they finished a session (whenever she wasn't there herself) or when Glenne would surprise Jeffrey over lunch in the studio.

Sure Abigail hasn't done any such thing, but now he had someone to think about. It was strange, really, how Harry transitioned from having no one ‘special’ in his life to having Abigail.

“What about Abigail?” Jeffrey walked inside the record room to a cracking Carl, Alex and Harry. Seeing him, Harry immediately stopped laughing knowing well of his disapproval on this subject.

Carl and Alex took their time pulling Harry's leg in front of Jeffrey – from laughing about Harry smiling like an idiot to his phone sitting on the patio between recording sessions to the excessive crumbled papers in the bin filled with frustrated words. Jeffrey laughed with them as well but on the contrary his laugh sounded very shallow.

So when Alex and Carl excused themselves, leaving only Harry and Jeffrey back in the room, Jeffrey was induced to ask. “So… Abigail. These songs are about her?”

“Jeffrey...” Harry nearly winced, closing his eyes. He felt too old for this conversation.

“No, they're nice, pretty songs. One of your best works, Carl told me.” Jeffrey added with uncomfort dominating his voice.

“Mate, can't you just be happy for me because right now that's exactly what I am.” Harry explained in a very sure tone.

“Harry I know you like that girl but-”

“But what Jeffrey? I like her, ain't that all what matter.” Harry cut him off in a slightly frustrated tone. He had never really felt the need to rebuke Jeffrey, thinking that he understood Harry in the best way.

“She doesn't have a clean past. She's done drugs all life, was highly arrogant at the peak of her career, addiction, rehabs. You've never associated with such people, H.” Jeffrey breathed a moment, “Believe me or not pal, you both are a combination of a catastrophe.”

“Yes but those were things of past. She's a changed person. She goes to school, focuses on course work and exercise, even stays away from media.” Harry defended, clearly unamused on the topic of Abigail's past being brought up.

“Then what is she doing with you?” he finally said, “A person who wants to stay away from media will never be with you.”

■ ■ ■

August 2023

“Harry I'm not coming to Vegas with you.” Abigail announced, trying to take her pen – one which Harry had purposely held high in air – from his grip.

“It's just one weekend and your entire schedule is clear.” He reasoned, pulling the pen higher. “Your last class ends Thursday evening at six. I'm pretty sure you don't have any homework in the first week of school so we can conveniently leave Friday morning at three and coming back your Health Science class is due Monday, two in afternoon. We'll be back and fresh by then.”

Harry had been trying to convince Abigail almost ever since she walked into her apartment to the smell of paninis and heath milkshake. It was only the second day of her term but she was certain holidays had a terrible impact on her circadian rhythm cycle. Especially with Harry being around. It could be easily said that they had somewhat moved in together. Not officially but none of them ever questioned walking into their homes to find the other sprawling on the couch watching television or cooking dinner.

The summer went away quick – something Abigail dreaded a lot. Not only because going back to school sounded hectic but also because Harry had become like a habit to her and school definitely meant she could not spend as much time with him as she did over the summer.

Abigail went home for a week in summer to visit her family. Harry and her had talked of dates so they could mutually come back to LA. But when Abigail came home anticipating that she had to wait another day for Harry to arrive, she was welcomed by Harry himself. Turns out, Harry never really left LA. It was a weird feeling that had crept on him, stopping him. His mum visited him over the weekend but that was it. He was in no mood of leaving the place that smelled lavenders and peppermint due to a certain blonde haired girl he had grown too fond of. And his mum recognised that way better than himself.

As of now Harry was trying to convince Abigail to accompany him to Vegas for the Video Music Awards due coming Sunday.

“Whoa! Is a multi millionaire, VMA performing superstar my personal assistant now?” She bulged her eyes, overwhelmed while going around to her study table to grab a spare pen.

“I've done my homework, thank you my lady.” Harry followed her, adamant on his stand “On a serious note whatever coursework you have, we can do it together in the plane.”

“As tempting as that sounds, Harry I don't think you are literate enough to do my homework.” She turned around, hitting his forehead with a new pen lightly.

“Oh I am.” His voice had an exclamatory tone. “And even if I'm not, I'll do anything. I'll hire you someone to do the coursework or maybe I'll personally meet your professor. I'll do anything. Please come with me, please, please, pretty please.”

When Abigail understood that Harry was not going to give up anytime soon, she sat on her bed defeatedly. “H it's not the coursework. It's…”

“It's the media?” He completed her sentence as the air around them got thicker. “Abby you have an invite yourself. We don't have to go together but I really would love it your were there. It's my first live performance since last year and I've been nominated for four awards. I would love if you’d be there.”

He was now seated beside her, his eyes on her while her was on the floor. “Harry you don't understand this.” She explained, “Every time I'm in front of those cameras I see pictures of me doing those horrid things I did back in time. It makes me feel like I'm still her, the girl who set fire in a rehab to escape the place… what bullshit.”

“Oi, you're not a horrible person.” Harry took her hand in his and she closed her eyes at his touch. “You are the person who would take an injured cat to a vet even if it means you'll miss a test, you are the simple girl who hates color orange and has abnormal amount of love for tequila. Your allergies flare high in March, and out of everyone Pearl is your favourite in Nemo, you-”

“Pearl resembles you, so don't complain.” She frowned though the tiny hint of her smile was enough to make Harry smile himself.

“You are an adorable, amazing human being. Never think otherwise, Abby. It's fine, you don't have to come if you don't want to.” He reassured her before giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

The next hour went with them having food and catching up generally. Harry told her about the funny guardsman he met at his fitting for the award show while Abigail imitated an eighteen year old boy in college asking her out.

After awhile they both split work, with Harry doing the dishes and Abigail setting their bed straight. Harry was in the middle of wiping away the last spoon clean to the stand when a pair of hands slipped under his arms, running over his shirtless torso.

Abigail planted several kisses on his back, slow and soft before he turned around giving her all the attention she deserved. His hand slipped down on her hip and hers encased his shoulders, both of their mouths attached, when he lifted her leg up to his waist, guiding them both back to their bed.

Somewhere in between their lazy and long snog, running hands and aching bodies, Abigail mumbled, “H, I'll come with you.”

Harry pulled apart, brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“To Vegas. I'll come with you.”

■■■

The arrangement was crystal clear. Abigail had insisted on staying back at their hotel (that was merely a walk away from the event hall) for the show at least. If it was upto Harry, he would've preferred her as a date or at least as a friend but the fact that she had agreed to come to Vegas solely for him, was enough at the moment. He knew if he asked for anything else, it would just be him pushing his luck.

He was enamoured though, he got an entire weekend to spend in the bounds of a luxury hotel room with first class room service and no phones or impending coursework to disturb them. Except for the few hours of the show and few hours prior for checking the stage and dressing up, Harry had all the time in the world to spend with Abigail.

They arrived early morning on Friday through his private jet. He was lucky that it was awards season and LAS was a busy place, storming with celebrities who all arrived in short spans between each other. There was a special car arranged in the back that would directly take Abigail to the hotel while Harry walked through the main gate, knowing well that he'd be mobbed.

“Steven Nicks? You didn't get a better name?” Abigail laughed when they had first checked into the hotel under a fake name.

Soon after breakfast, the duo explored the hotel for a while, finding different locations to hangout. Abigail was particularly in awe of the spa where she decided to spend a good chunk of her Sunday when Harry would be busy with the stage practice.

Saturday morning was pool time. Harry booked the entire rooftop pool for four hours straight, where he and Abigail could spend hours under water and many more in each other's arms back in the hotel room. Vegas was a sight at night and Harry made sure Abigail got a whiff of it when they took a helicopter ride over the most enlightened city of the States. Abigail might have even shed a few tears at the sight itself.

Despite the show marking Harry's comeback on stage the first time since last November, Sunday was the worst day of the trip according to him. What he had anticipated to last only half day was dragged to the entire. He could barely sit through the countless hours of pre-show interviews and red carpet nonsense coupled with the actual award show itself. The only part where he thoroughly enjoyed was his performance; it made him realise why he had been here, in this world in the first place. It was sterling if Jeffrey and his team were to be believed, Harry Styles showing the world how to truly be a superstar.

Harry was proud of himself, with smiles and dimples prominent but he was equally nervous about what Abigail had to say about his performance. She was watching it live from the television in their hotel room like the rest of the world but her opinion still mattered the most for him.

The after party was a mandatory, though Harry wasn't able to sit through it for long. There were interviews lined up for him soon after he had won three of the four awards he was nominated for and that made him curse deep under his breath. His feet popped up and down restlessly as the interviewer standing in front of the entrance of the after party location asked him one over the other questions.

“So Mr.Styles, are you seeing anyone right now?” The young man inquired turning the direction of the mic towards Harry.

Harry had his jaw slightly clenched as he pulled a fake smile, frustrated enough that he could not be done with this soon and meet Abigail. He was about to dodge the question the way he was trained to when his eyes fell behind the glass door of the entrance. He squinted and blinked, even thought of pinching himself to assure it was real. It indeed was; there stood the blonde girl who had his heart in her hands, behind a bush of pink roses wearing a pink and gold dress that made his breath hitch tight under his chest.

Harry didn't know what possessed him when he said, “I am.��� He bit his lip in order to hide the smile growing widely on his face and in the moment of realisation, hugged the interviewer joyously. “Thank you mate, you have no clue what you have done for me.”

Without sparing another glance at him, Harry literally ran inside, taking Abigail in his arms, walking a little way from the glass door and swirling her around. They were lucky for the bunch of roses that their little act of amour was hidden away from the cameras.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, hitting his shoulder.

“I can't believe you are here, you look absolutely stunning babe.” Harry giggled through the widest smile on his face as he put her down on her feet. He could see that she was a bit taken aback by the usage of the term but instead of calling him out on it, she blushed.

Abigail gushed over and over again about his performance, his awards, his awards speech, his suit - actually everything. She had made it to the show with the help of Glenne and Jeffrey, taking a seat somewhere between them, with his team. Harry had his lips between his teeth, the smile too wide, the blush to deep, all the while as she spoke about him and him alone.

He thanked Glenne and Jeffrey the moment he saw them at the party. Jeffrey patted Harry's back with a wink when he hugged him, whispering, “Reach out to me for any boyfriend guidelines.” Harry smiled, nodding to him appreciably. The four of them shared a couple of laughs over drinks. All the while, Harry had his hand on Abigail's lap, rubbing circles in request to return back to their bedroom. Abigail glared at him on occasions, shoving his hand away playfully.

It was a little while later when they both finally got a while to make their escape. Harry's lips were on hers the moment he entered the elevator, and it did not leave until they were on the bed. Her hands had somehow managed to get rid of his blazer and shirt in the time being.

“God, I've been meaning to take that dress off you even since I saw it.” He whispered, searching in all directions for the zipper.

Abigail giggled at his frustrated form and decided to help him by turning aside, “It's a side zip, H.”

And just like that it was gone as well. They were in the hotel bed, under white lights and lavender room freshener with Harry nibbing on the bottom of her lip.

“Need you now, H.” Her voice was soft hiding under the deep moan. Harry didn't needed to be told twice. He closed his eyes, pushing in slowly feeling her inside contract and expand around him. He swallowed every moan that left her throat and intertwined their fingers as their bodies moved in a perfect rhythm they had created for themselves.

Harry fell down once they had reached their climax, rolling over but keeping their fingers intertwined. He watched her closed eyes and sweaty forehead that must've resembled his own, both their chests heaving up and down breathlessly.

That's when it kind of hit him. He needed to say this now or it might become too late. All the faux confidence that he had donned all night disappeared almost immediately as he rested his head on his palm supporting his body by the elbow. “Abigail I want to tell you something.”

She hummed in response, still with closed eyes. It made his heart beat faster.

But with a deep breath, he continued. “Tonight an interviewer asked me if I was seeing someone.” He spoke softly, playing with her her hair. “And I said yes.”

That lead to her opening her eyes, pronto. Her heavy, quick breathing converted into slow, inaudible one as she asked. “Why?”

“I don't know, Abby,” He spoke nervously biting his lips, “I saw you there and I knew I was seeing you, I was seeing you and I wanted to see you forever. You were behind the rose vase and even thinking that you'd seen me perform live, that you had seen me take up that award – it made me feel like there's a star everyone wants to look at but that star was looking only at me. I..I know I'm sounding stupid and mad and you might want to slap me right now-”

Harry's speech was cut off by a loud laugh from Abigail. He watched her laugh with equal amounts of bewilderment and anxiety. “I didn't know I had such a nervous wreck of a boyfriend.”

“I'm not usually this nervous but you do something - wait, did you just call me your boyfriend?”

“I can again, if you'd like it.” She shrugged with a notorious smile.

“I would love it.”

■ ■ ■

December 2023

Harry had locked himself in one of the washrooms of the hotel where his album listening party was supposed to be held. Nerves were high on him as he walked back and forth in the washroom, rambling worst case scenarios that even under the light of Satan, could not occur.

“Harry, slow down.” Glenne said, knocking on the door of the loo and inhaling deeply when all she heard was more rambling.

Anyone could decipher from the bags under his eyes and the shortness of his breath as he talked, that he hadn't slept well, maybe even not at all. The last few weeks were dreaded with the finalising of contracts, one over the other, going through the labels and concluding the order of the songs in the album that Harry had changed at least four times.

He was extremely scared for this album, especially because it was dominated by two of the most important things in his life - his dad (and family) and Abigail. Both the emotions were completely in contrast to each other and arranging the songs in order that it would not only hit best with him but his fans was a task that had Harry up for days.

If the exhaustion from work was not enough, Abigail had her finals going on just in the while. That indicatively meant that she could not mumble soothing words into his ears to calm him down, not give him a comforting massage after a long day of work and he could not tell her about all of his rising anxiety. Harry had no intention of distracting her from the exams, he even told her it would be fine if she couldn't make it to the album listening party. Her third exam was due next day, after all.

Truth be told, he was extremely down that she wasn't here with him tonight. Maybe if she was, at least for some time, some of his thoughts would be calmed down.

“Harry I'm seriously going to call Abigail if you don't open the door now.” Glenne warned Harry from outside.

“She won't pick up the call. Her phone is on silent whenever she studies, so don't bother.” He replied, soon before sitting on the bench, his hands going in his hair in absolute, torturous frustration.

A million thoughts ran through his head back and forth about what everyone would think about his album. Harry always knew that no one else can ever know the actual meaning, story or feelings behind any song no matter how many music journalists sit and over analyse his lyrics and tunes. But it petrified him how well he did or did not put his own thoughts into words, if he even did them justice.

“I heard somebody is being a baby tonight,” Harry's trail of thoughts were broken by a distinct female voice which was not Glenne’s. There was a split second before her speaking and Harry's face breaking into a grin. He rushed towards the door opening it, pulling Abigail inside and closing it - all within a span of two seconds. Taken aback, she squeaked, “Harry, what are you doing?”

“They will force me to go out. I'm not going out Abby.” He answered without a breath, quickly wrapping his hands around her.

“Harry-”

Pulling away, he added nervously, “It's bullshit, the entire album.”

“Harry-”

“I think this hotel is a curse, absolute curse.”

“Harry-”.

Harry interjected her again, “You know that feeling when you're super excited about a new idea and you give your entire self to complete it. You even like it when it's complete, but then after a few months you see it and you know that you could've done so much better… that the songs are dumb and everyone will laugh at you.”

Abigail looked at him with a stern look before pulling a fake smile. “You know what, I think I should be leaving.”

He held her hand stopping her before she could filling turn. “What? Why?”

“I was your muse for the album,” she pointed at herself raising her brows, “but since you think the entire album is dumb, that probably means our feelings for each other's dumb or our relationship is dumb and what else did you say… yeah a laughing stock. So what am I even-”

“It's not dumb.” He interjected her with a serious face, holding her arms to still her. “Babe, how can our feelings for each other be dumb. It's the purest thing I've ever felt, it's the purest thing that has ever existed.”

“Then how can the songs that tell our story, be dumb Harry?” Abigail reasoned, her voice now low and calm. She lifted Harry's chin to make him look up at herself. “Hey, please look at me. I know that I'll always be proud of whatever you do but this.. this is seriously the closest music to my heart, Harry. This is us, it's the one album that may or may not be the biggest hit of the year but it's the biggest hit of my life. It's about us.”

Harry looked at her in awe, eyes twinkling as if he was watching the reflection of a star. “How do you always do this?” He shook his head, chuckling to himself before he pulled her into his arms. They stood there for a while until realisation hit Harry, “Shit, Abby what are you doing here? You have an exam tomorrow. I'll take you home directly, just give me moment-”

“Don't worry,” She stopped him from taking the keys of his car out of his pocket, “ I'm good with the exam, might walk through the party with you.”

Harry's eyes almost doubled in size, a shadow of uncertainty in his voice. “Abby, there are a lot of cameras. It's a public event… public.”

“I'm pretty cool with that.” She reassured him with a squeeze of his hand.

“Are you sure? We don't have to do this now.”He asked her, not at all trying to do anything she wasn't ready for.

“H, they have to find out someday right. Don't worry, I'm ready.”

At her words, Harry's smile grew two folds. This was not something he had thought about much but right now he loved the idea of the world knowing about them. Them, together. Harry and Abigail, Abigail and Harry - as couple.

Abigail's hair brushed Harry's arm as they sat in their respective seats, listening to the songs he had spent last year working on. He was already on the edge, hyper-aware of everyone’s reactions in the room, attempting to analyze whether they were pleased or not.

“Relax, my boy.” Abigail whispered in his ears, intertwining their hands together. She probably had the biggest and proudest smile in the room after his mum and sister.

What Harry didn't know was that he wasn't in need of comforting squeezes and uplifting words. She was.

■ ■ ■

January 2024 to July 2024

Harry Styles blinded in love!

This new year did not start on a great note. Looks like it's going downhill from there. Sources confirmed that Harry Styles has been swiped off his feet by troubled, former actress Abigail Quinn who you might remember from Disney's super hit sitcom Bunker Hill somewhat a decade ago.

The couple first photographed in early 2023, had as of yet kept their amour under wraps, but looks like they are just ready to go public now.

“He is smittened by her,” a close friend said. “It's completely different watching Harry play a dotting boyfriend but we were quite sure this one would be serious. She is a huge part of the album, if not whole.”

Quinn made an official appearance alongside Styles on his album launch party end of December last year where she was seen posing for the cameras first time since 2019.

With Styles latest record speaking bounds of being in heart-wrenching love, it's safe to say that rockstar is off the market, this time for a long while. Tell us below in our comment section, which song did you love the most from his latest album.

■■■

Popstar Harry Styles buys a new Los Angeles mansion in a family friendly neighbourhood

Riding off the success of his latest album, our favourite popstar recently splashed a whopping $29.6 million on a Bel-Air Mansion in the neighbourhood of David Beckham and Beyonce.

The six bedroom three bath household was formerly resided by musician The Weekend. As of yet it is believed to be undergoing a makeover under LA based famous interior designer, Vaughn Turing.

“Abigail is in direct contact with the designer,” a source referred, “Harry wants the house to seem exactly like a home Abigail wishes to have. All he is doing his signing cheques while she is leading the planning of their future house along with Anne and Gemma.”

“He wants a family friendly neighbourhood. He's always been close with the Beckhams and dreams to have a family like them with Abigail,” another source added.

■■■

Harry Styles and his girl Abigail Quinn make their MET Gala debut in New York City!

No year is complete without seeing Harry Styles on the red carpet of MET Gala. The handsome hunk has been co-chairing the event ever since his debut back in 2019 and this year is no different.

Or maybe it is. Styles, for a first time attended the MET Gala in hand with girlfriend Abigail Quinn. The pair were unabashedly displaying their affection all through the event. Both matched each other's outfit in a modern fairytale-esque piece by Ralph Lauren, seemingly looking like a pair made in heavens.

Prior to this, they attended Audi's pre-gala party in New York together before they were spotted dining in The Rainbow Room within the Rockefeller Centre.

Being etched to each other makes sense though, since Harry would be hitting the road with his fourth solo tour in beginning June and his lady love graduates last week in May. So maybe the in-love duo are just trying to makeup for all the time they are about to lose.

■■■

Is Abigail Quinn trying to get back to acting by using Styles?

Uh-oh! Former actress Abigail Quinn, better known today as superstar Harry Styles’ girlfriend might be using her beau to get back into acting.

As per reports, Quinn who recently graduated from UCLA as a psychology major has refused a few job offers, instead choosing to travel with her beau for his tour.

She has been spotted at a lot of industry affairs ever since she publicly started dating Styles back in December last year. A few directors maybe interested in working with her, now that being with Styles has cleared her act a bit.

Does that mean Abigail is using her relationship for professional purposes? We don't know but what we know is that Harry doesn't mind one bit.

■■■

At this rate, can Harry Styles go bankrupt?

Harry Styles donated a total of $2.2 million in just the first half 2024 to various non profit organizations. But if you think that's a huge money, wait till you hear the next.

This year Styles seems to be very reckless about his bank account. Beginning from splashing almost $30 million on his and his girlfriend’s current residence, to various exotic vacations around the world, Harry has been throwing in an unexplainable sum of money.

If LA famous investment banker Oliver Logan is to be believed, Styles could've got the mansion for less than $23 million had he waited for a few months. But apparently he wanted the place as soon as possible and ended up paying a lot more than the market price.

A lot of people have also mentioned this could be Quinn, Styles’ girlfriend's influence on him, who herself is known for being bankrupt in the past.

“It is slightly disturbing how enamoured Harry is with her,” an insider close to Styles’ team told us. “He seems like being at the top of the world nowadays. As if following the ‘only live once’ motto.”

If sources are believed, Styles’ tour was supposed to start end of May but he purposely shifted the dates so that he could see attend his girlfriend's graduation. The entire shift almost costing his team $1.3 million.

With Styles adamant to stay a charity god, and a boyfriend who spoils his girl, can we assume that the guy might be drilling a hole to bankruptcy soon, just like his girlfriend?

■■■

Couple of the Year alert: Harry Styles and Abigail Quinn were the most publicly in demand couple this summer

It's only a little over half of 2024 gone but we already know our ‘couple of the year.’

The pair have been dating for almost half an year under public scrutiny and unlike rest of Styles’ relationship, this is going strong as ever. From soul cycling in Beverly Hills, taking trips to the beach, shopping at Rodeo – we've seen the couple do all that a typical celebrity couple would do in LA.

Residing amongst Los Angeles’ elite, Styles and Quinn are the youngest couple in their neighbourhood and as per an interview of Victoria Beckham, they are the most in love couple she has ever seen. Not to forget, very respectful, ideal neighbours.

And with Abigail featuring on Harry's Gucci campaign as their first couple photoshoot, it's safe to say Harry Styles and Abigail Quinn are taking the world by storm.

■ ■ ■

August 2024

Harry loved a lot of things about his Bel-Air Mansion. The perfect sunshine invading his room every morning at the perfect hour, the white curtains flying under the wind, the green sight of the entire city that made him feel that he indeed was at the top of the world; but the thing he loved the most about his Bel-Air Mansion was the woman in his bed.

She had recently got back to the bed, clad in his ‘Treat People With Kindness’ shirt with two cups – one of chai latte and the other black coffee. It was early morning and Harry smiled rubbing his eyes. He doesn't even remember how Abigail slowly fell in love with chai latte so much that she made sure to wake up earlier than him to make her own cup. She hated it when Harry made her the chai. The only other person she would accept it from was Anne, Harry's mother.

Harry's usual dark circles had vanished just like the darkness in his life. He no longer woke up every morning still feeling exhausted beyond his life. Rather there were a lot of moments in the day he would agree with gratitude that he was well rested. And all of it's credit went to one woman.

“Good morning,” he mumbled in his ever so raspy voice as she bend down to press her lips against his chaste ones.

“Good morning, superstar. Did you sleep well?” Abigail asked, her entire weight on his body as she put her chin on his chest.

“Do you ever let me sleep well, babe?” His smile was still very persistent.

At his statement, Abigail squinted her eyes before lowering down his body. Slowly, very slowly. It was torture for Harry to say the least. He was only in his Calvin Klein boxers, the one he had changed into after having sex last night because sleeping clean is something Abigail insists on.

It was maddening to Harry, how even after an year together, he was still extremely nervous when it came to Abigail. She was his, she was his. He knew that yet couldn't believe that.

Her face was somewhere near his navel when he chuckled nervously, “It's okay babe. You don't have to.”

Abigail rolled her eyes, hitting his side with a couple of envelopes that lied beside. “I was only getting these. Why? What did you think?” When she rose her eyebrows all in faux innocence, Harry rolled his eyes still found himself chuckling along. Getting up from above him, Abigail reached for the other side of the bed, popping down the mail envelopes in front of her. “There's an invite to a charity ball by Disney for the 23rd, its entire hamper waits downstairs for you. There is a thank you note from Gucci headquarters for our campaign. And there is a...”

Harry was happily taking a sip from his coffee listening to the mails he had received when Abigail suddenly stopped, prompting Harry to look up. “There is a what, Abby?” He didn't receive much of an answer instead a frown and her just rolling her lips. “Here show it to me.”

It was a bank notice.

Harry sighed opening the envelope and reading the context before throwing it on a drawer on his bedside like the many others stocked up there. When he turned around he saw Abigail looking at him with an anticipated, concerned expression.

“Oi, it's nothing.” He pulled her onto his chest and she softly kept her head there. “They want me at the bank. I'm sure Smithers only wants to discuss investments regarding the tour.”

“Please don't lie to me H,” Abigail said. “I told you we don't need these extravagant purchases and vacations. You spent $32 million at this place Harry. That was a terrible bargain.”

“Abby what are you saying. It's our home. For me this is the only one that hasn't felt entirely empty.”

Abigail shut her eyes at his words. They were absolutely true, she knew that. “I know babe. I'm just saying… we could've avoided the vacations. I mean Bali, Miami, Australia, Valentines day, my birthday, the lawsuit against paparazzi – it was all too much H.”

Harry chuckled at her tone, well aware that she was blaming herself for this entire situation. “It's nothing, darling. The lawsuit was for your safety. I don't want them following you everytime you're out. Trust me we don't have financial issues to take care of. I'll just get the meeting done quick.”

“I'll come with you,” Abigail insisted as Harry got up to the wardrobe, grabbing a towel.

“No, no need I'll take care of it and Jeffrey will be there as well. Nothing to worry about,” Harry shook his head getting out of his briefs as he held a hand out to Abigail. She took it willingly, her own thumb rubbing her man's wrist. “As I bathe please pick me a good dress shirt and while I'm gone you can pack our bags. We leave for New York tomorrow morning, remember?”

Harry watched Abigail bite her lip hardly for a little moment before she broke into a grin and pressed a kiss on his lips in a gesture of agreement. But for some unknown reason, Harry felt the grin was highly undermotivated.

■■■

The negativity he felt was bound to happen. It was something that Harry felt whenever he had to go through these meetings with his financial adviser, lawyer, managers and a group of bank officials. What was supposed to be an hour of discussion turned around four hours of it, more because Harry could not see eye to eye with any of these men who claimed that they were trying to help him.

Most of the time, they listed his newly developed, heavy ‘spending more than earning’ habit with examples of his recent splurges – most of which were on Abigail. Harry could not even imagine cutting any of those. The mansion, the lawsuit, the occasions – according to him it was all necessity rather than luxury.

The lawsuit itself caused him a big chunk of money but Harry was adamant not to sacrifice on Abigail's safety. As much as he loved posing in front of the camera and proudly showing off his girl to the world, he liked doing it on professional platforms – events, galas, photoshoots. Not when they both were walking down the street to grab coffee, and especially not when she was walking alone.

“I'm so fucking exhausted, Jeffrey.” Harry exhaled running his hands over his face. He sat with Jeffrey in the cafe at the bank, their coffees and lunch placed in front of them.

“Why the hell are you exhausted? You have done nothing but throw money and listen about it.” Jeffrey said through his deep frown.

“Not you as well, mate.” Harry licked his lip reaching for the silver fork to cut his food. “You're my friend.”

“And that's exactly why I am telling you this.” Jeffrey reprimanded, hitting their table with his fist in a clear sign of pique. “Right now you're in a bubble of love but one day that bubble would burst and you'll see nothing will stay pretty in pink.”

Harry watched his friend in a vexed manner, too sure of his own tone. “I don't care if the bubble bursts. I'll still have her. It's her, us I'm spending my money on and I'm sorry if I don't see how her safety is bargainable.”

“Her safety is not bargainable, H.” Jeffrey replied exasperatedly, “ I care about Abby as well. I'm talking about the vacations. You've spend the entire summer abroad, taking flights every other day.”

“Let me live, Jeffrey.” Harry rolled his eyes, he was too tired from everyone telling him the same thing over again. “I worked so hard on the album, I'm working my arse off on the tour. Let me spoil my girl, she deserves an extravagant life. Don't tell me if you earned that much, you won't be doing the same for Glenne and Thea.”

Jeffrey winced audible at Harry's choice of words, “Even if your extravagant life is on debt?” Jeffrey spoke this time in a lower tone than earlier. “$2.2 million on charity, seriously?”

“Don't talk about charity.” Harry said, “You know I've always done it, it gives me a sense of purpose.”

“It gives you a fucking reputation, Styles.” Jeffrey replied in a dark chuckle. “Till one moment it was because you wanted to help but right now it's nearly mandatory. As if you want to outdo your own amount, you don't even give a damn for the cause. Fuck pal, you don't get it you're hurting yourself.”

“Shouldn't you be pleased?” Harry narrowed his eyes at Jeffrey, “I am the most charitable musician right now, I have a girlfriend, a stable home, perfect life. And the world knows it, they know it and they are jealous. Maybe you're too because I'm not longer a pathetic, sad pop star you can save, Jeffrey. I am happy.”

Harry had always been perfect professionally for the world. For once he was perfect personally as well, for the world. Harry Styles was at the top of the world, it was a different kind of high he was experiencing and by far, he had loved it.

Jeffrey kept his eyes on the untouched food on his side for a little too long. He tried cutting his food but instead only ended up playing with with silverware all the while as Harry took bites over bites of his food. “I care about you more than this faux rep, H.” He let out a deep sigh, “But I suppose we we have very different working styles now.”

That caught Harry's attention and he suddenly stopped eating. “What.. what do you mean?”

“I quit.” Jeffrey announced raising his hands up in air. “I.. I can't deal with you any longer. You're not the guy I signed up for, the guy who used to be private. You're just another bag of celebrity bullshitery – the one you were so determined not to be.”

“I'm not. I'm fucking not.” Harry rebuked too quickly and too loudly. “I'm tired of hiding everything. For years I've seen you and Glenne in public, holding each other's hands, proudly telling the world you both are in love. I was jealous...I was fucking jealous that I have to keep my single label open so that my fan base is not hurt. And whenever anything I did went public the media ruined it.”

Jeffrey chuckled shaking his head. “What tells you they won't ruin it this time?” With that he got up from his seat, leaving his food untouched and his once best friend bewildered. “I might not have as much money as you but I've paid my share of bill. I hope you get a better manager, H. Good luck.”

Jeffrey left after that but Harry could only hear the words he said before leaving – ‘What tells you they won't ruin it this time?’ He shook his head, throwing away the thoughts and continuously telling himself that this is different, this is love and this is Abigail. No fucking one would ruin it.

What Harry didn't know was playing with fire and not touching it was practically an impossible task that even knew the man who could conquer the world, couldn't do.

■■■

“Thank you, Abby,” Harry said taking the champagne filled flute goblet from Abigail's hand before patting the space beside him. She took it, instantly putting her head on his chest. He could tell that she was tired, so was he, both of them trying to find solace in each other. They sat there, on a faun leather seat of Harry's private jet, their breathing synchronised and so were their thoughts.

“I am sorry about Jeffrey.” Abigail mumbled softly.

“No, I am sorry babe. I am so fucking sorry.” Harry let out in an exhausted tone. “We.. we had this argument and he doesn't see it. He's one of my best mates, I didn't want to let him go. But why is it always me who should understand, with him, with the boys, with dad. Why can't they understand?”

“Hey, hey. It's fine.” Abigail got up from his chest to rub his arms in an attempt to calm him down. “You don't have to understand anything, Harry. You don't have to keep it so hardcore. You can talk about your dad with me, if you want to. Especially today.”

It was his father's birthday. It would've been his 67th birthday had he been alive. That is why today was no less than a day of mourning for Harry.

“I know you're really tired and probably don't want to be bored-”

“Don't do that.” Abigail stopped him, her hand lifting to his shoulder. “Harry, I’m here to listen to you for as long as you want me to, about anything.”

Harry watched her in awe. Sometimes it filled his eyes how lucky he had gotten to have this woman by him. There and then he knew that as long as he had her, he was ready to take all the daggers thrown at him; by others or by himself. “Okay.”

So for the next hour their conversation centred around Desmond Styles and the life he lived. Harry left out no details about his father, even marking the smallest bits that could easily go unnoticed by people. There were stories all scattered before the band, during and after. There were a lot of open ended points that Abigail wanted to question; like the time his dad called him out after a fight with Zayn, the time he went straight to his father's house disappearing when the there was a drug racquet in the band's hotel, but she decided against it, giving him his own time. Abigail could figure out that Harry felt a plethora of things about his father – anger, disappointment, love, resentment but the one he felt strongest was guilt. But she also knew that guilt was a significant part of who Harry Styles was and with every passing year, the amount of people he felt that emotion towards increased. After a while the chat lingered from Harry’s family and past and moved onto the tour and his plans of the rest of the year.

“Don’t worry. Glenne told me he is a bit angry right now but he'll be fine.” Abigail caressed him but a cloud of anxiety hovered over herself. “Soooo… this afternoon I went with Glenne for Thea's check up.”

“Yeah right. I completely forgot about that. How's her fever?” Harry perked his eyebrows, asking about his goddaughter and Jeffrey's biological one, in concerned tone.

“She's okay, just a common cold. They said it will be better in a few days. But Harry I… I had a checkup for myself.” She rolled her lips in after saying that.

“Y-You?” His eyes were wide, her words more the cause of perturbation to Harry. “What happened? Are you not feeling well? We can call off the show, I'll take you to the best doctors as soon as we land. Tell me-”

“I'm fine.” Abigail announced before sighing deeply. “Harry I'm… I'm pregnant.”

And just like the entire hole of guilt Harry felt towards his father vanished. He had spent last three years wondering why, despite being on his best behaviour always, he could not convince his father that this life would not ruin him. Maybe he was at fault somewhere or maybe his father was, for not supporting his son. But all of that vanished the moment he heard this news. This was his chance, his chance of rectifying all of his mistakes, all of his father's mistakes.

“Harry?” Abigail shook him out of his thoughts.

“Can you pinch me?” She rolled her eyes pinching him just hard enough. Harry let out a wince before tears swelled up in his eyes, so fast he didn't know how to control them. “I love you, I love us… fuck I love… thank you so, so much babe.”

He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her before showering her face with kisses. Usually he would have her pressed against himself in the closest hug known to man, but today his hands were slow and cautious. Abigail pulled away from him with a frown. “Oi this is the hug I get?”

“I don't want to crush our baby.” He remarked slyly.

“Jesus, you're an ass.”

■■■

It was impossible to miss Abigail in the crowd. Even in the sea of fans, the silk white fabric of her dress stood out. She sat with her family, sandwiched between her parents, beside her brother and his fiancè. Harry felt extremely lucky that her parents took the liberty of time to make a quick trip for his concert before they returned back to Pennsylvania.

There were thousands of people crammed into Madison Square Garden, fans of varying age groups, some with him since his One Direction days others finding his solo career their new favourite thing about pop music. Harry doesn't remember a single tour he had completed without playing in The Garden, each time the entire hall making him feel at home.

But this time it was different. This time his real home was here, amongst the attendees and now that a part of his own lived and breathed in her, Harry wasn't sure what else heaven sounded like.

His attention was on each part of the crowd, making sure his fans had the time of their lives as long as they were in this room, but every time his eyes fell on Abigail it made him grin so wide that his jaw ached. There was a certain patch of the show he saw she wasn't in her assigned location but when she returned back he assumed she must've gone to the loo.

She swayed with the crowd, whistling every once in a while. They were seated far back in relation to the stage, so Harry imagined the proud smile Abigail sported. It was the same one she showed off backstage when Harry was greeting his fans after the show was over.

He invited her family with his tour mates to their hotel lobby for drinks and dinner. Abigail's brother and his fiancè chatted with Harry while her mother praised his performance to no ends. Abigail was equally celebratory before she urged to return to their room. Harry assured her he will be joining her shortly.

Harry sent Abigail's family off with leftovers, hugging each of them before their flights back to their respective homes. He didn't bother as much to see off his mates, instead making his way up towards his hotel room, the urge to finally talk to the love of his life making him smile like an idiot in the elevator.

“Abby, Abby, Abby. You have no clue how much-” He started saying but stopped abruptly when he saw her bent down over drawer closet with a vial in her hand.

Abigail looked like she’d been caught trying to steal something, but rather she addressed it completely innocently.

“Uh, hi ” She blurted, abruptly closing the drawer behind her and taking a step towards him. “I didn't see you there.”

“All good, love?” Harry's voice cracked asking her this. He didn’t know why he felt like he was the guilty party here. She had been clean for years and as far as Harry remembered not once had she touched a drug in their entire year of relationship. Especially not now that she had a baby in her.

“Yeah, just a few medicines the doctor gave me. Pregnancy stuff.” She shrugged.

He believed her, completely relieved. Maybe the logical part of him didn't want to given how he had been the one in contact with their doctor. But because of the pious fact that she would never lie to him and his belief that she would never want to harm their baby, Harry believed her, he believe her, he believed her, he believed her.

“But I'm glad you're back.” Abigail said, walking towards him.

“Me toooooo.” He drawled, hugging Abigail from behind in the entire process showering her with limitless kisses. “So tell me how are both of my babies?”

She giggled in his arms, her blush exceeding even though she had wiped away her makeup. “They are very happy and very proud of Daddy.”

“Of Daddy?” He pulled apart to look at her with a prominence of a smirk and haughtiness.

“You're ridiculous,” she said rolling her eyes. “But since I love you here's an offer. I'm in shower, you can feel free to join anytime.”

“I'll join you in a while.” Harry smiled pressing a lingered peck on her cheek. For a solid minute after she left, he contemplated checking the vial label but finally shook his head smiling in thought of how his girl would never lie to him. He was stupid to even think that, of all, at this point would she lure back into drugs.

He had to change out of his tour suit before giving in to any kind of cruel desperations. That was an expensive item made exclusively for his tour and as many others, this wasn't his in the least sense of words.

Harry retreated to the bed, carefully taking off his shoes and watch, placing them on his bedside. His blazer and button up followed next. When he was in middle of pulling the black fabric of his shirt over his head still humming to the tunes of one his closing songs, his phone buzzed. Without even sparing a glance he answered it, putting it on speaker.

“Hello,” He sang through the speaker of his phone. Anyone on the opposite end would be sure to figure out his extremely bewitched mien.

But what followed next put his brain in a kind of turmoil he hadn't ever experienced. The weight of the voice on the opposite end overburdened his soul, making him feel as if even the sturdiest anchor in the sea could not prevent the drowning he was feeling. This drowning throwing him into a past full of stormy, tumultuous shadows, from where he has continuously tried escaping but has still not managed to succeed.

He wasn't sure if it was the words, the voice or both. Or it was when the person called him ‘mate’ after all these years. But he knew he was blanking. Harry could not hear what the person at the other end was saying, but he could only hear the echo of the words that person said the last time they had met. Over and over again.

Fuck you, Harry. Fuck you, Harry. Fuck you, Harry.

Contemplation wasn't even an option, he had to escape this. So the first thing he did was press the red sign blinking on his phone so hard, he might have broken tiny little blood vessels underneath his skin.

It petrified him how fast his heart was beating. He had no clue that this pace was even medically possible for the human body to endure. He wondered what if the walls of his arteries were not strong enough to hold the amount of blood rushing through him and they would burst, bathing his organs in the plasma, too demented to find their own place – the place they had held to for so long. Just like him.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there, on his bedside with his head down in his knees and the bubble of his perfect world struck by a meteor of his own skeleton.

“H, you didn't have to-” Abigail closed off the door behind her, but stopped mid sentence when her eyes fell Harry's timid frame. It was either shock or fear that stood on her face because as opposed to a concerned one, she had a terrified tone. “W-What happened, babe? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He was too frantic, speaking robotically. “Absolutely. I am perfectly okay.. look at me… I'm completely okay..”

Abigail stood there for a moment clearly trying to comprehend what could drive Harry to the extend she hasn't seen him in almost two years of knowing him.“Okay,” She added with caution in her voice before moving on to change the subject. “So who was it? On the phone?”

“No one. No one important. No one at all.” He replied a little too quickly, his head knowing only two phases – turbulence or blankness.

“Are you sure? It looked like the person knew you and was in need of help-”

“Yes I'm sure. It was no one.” His reply was too stern and too certain to be true.

“Harry is everything-”

He didn't want her to complete that. He didn't want to talk about anything regarding the phone call. So he changed the subject. “Do you want to watch a movie? I was thinking we could watch a romcom.”

Abigail watched him for a moment before nodding defeatedly. “Yeah. Yeah.”

The following hour Harry and Abigail spent cuddled in their suite bed, under dim yellow lights watching Love Actually. Despite this being one of Harry's all time favourite movies, he could not concentrate one bit. He didn't laugh in the moments he usually does, he didn't smile in awe at the mention of his favourite line, he didn't even rub circles on Abigail's arm. He simply sat there like statue. Any signs of him being alive were blinking and breathing – just the mandatory.

Abigail wasn't concentrating much either, her eyes more on her boyfriend than the television in front. She did try to make a little comment here and there but never really received a reply from Harry. Not even a hum. After a while, she switched over to catch over the news channels. It was the regular as well, the weather, the gossip from who's dating who that both of them were too old hear. It was only one certain live report that caught their attention.

Harry's attention.

Everything after happened in slow motion and all Harry could do was watch in horror as the video of his once-closest friend taking a bullet shot surfaced on the screen in front of him. Abigail suddenly sat up from her position, watching just in as much of a shock, glancing back at Harry. But Harry, he didn't move, he couldn't move. Anything that could move were the little droplets of tears from the corner of his eyes.

“Covering live outside Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid's New York apartment. Ex-popstar Zayn Malik has been shot on his chest by an invader who reportedly held his wife, supermodel Gigi Hadid and four years old son Eric Malik hostage in their Upper West Side house for nearly two hours.” Harry watched as the reporter on screen spoke, “Malik was supposedly visiting a friend in Queens when the invader, identified as an ex fan of his former band, One Direction called him in demand of a ransom. As per reports he, a serial criminal, was not keen on the money but blamed Malik for the dispersion of the band and was seeking revenge. Ex-popstar Zayn Malik has completely given up on his music career after the failure of his third album in 2020, ever since taking care of his son's upbringing. What do you think Malik's ex band mates would like to say about this? Harry Styles, the most successful member of the band is indeed in New York City for his fourth solo tour. Malik has been immediately admitted to New York Presbyterian Hospital and fans are requested to respect privacy.”

“Harry,” Abigail snapped at Harry. He suddenly gasped as if he was breathing after a century worth of time. Guilt surfaced his body, rising higher and higher until it practically lodged itself in his throat. Harry felt nauseous all over again, his stomach tying itself into knots, twisting and turning until he cracked. “Harry we need to go.” Abigail repeated in commanding tone. She was already in front of their half packed luggage hunting a decent piece of clothing for herself and him, one that could be worn in a hospital.

“A-A-Abby.” He mumbled through broken words still catching his breath. “Maybe we don't.” Harry licked his lips again and again, reaching for her hand to stop looking through the bag all the while as his own body shaked tremendously. “H-he didn't need me. He doesn't need me. He's been living in this city for years, he has so many people here to call, to help him. I don't even know his son, fuck I don't even know his wife. Why would he need me? Why would he call me? I'm the last person he would ever like to see, he hates me. He-”

The guilt surfaced again in him, terrifyingly clutching his lungs. Harry was rambling, probably not even listening to himself but Abigail could. And so the one thing she did there and then was slap him. Hard enough to snap him into reality.

“Are you even listening to yourself?” She screamed, shaking Harry by his arms before closing her eyes in at attempt to calm herself down. “Harry I have no fucking clue what went down with you two. But if you have a single decent bone in your body, change your clothes now. I'm driving.”

■■■

The first thing Harry heard as he reached the VIP floor of the hospital was the crying of a little boy. It very much resembled his own when his dad left the house for the first time after his divorce. Shockingly it also resembled his silent crying in the washroom of his childhood home in Holmes Chapel after the burial of his father's body, even though at that time he was a man of twenty seven.

The boy had Zayn's features. The shiny dark hair, the exact almond shaped eyes, and same sleeping posture. Gigi, his mother had him cradled in her arms telling him how his father is okay but she herself could not help the excessive black tears flowing from her eyes. It was a slow process, him going to sleep but as soon as he did, Gigi couldn't help but ball her eyes out with her son clutched close to her chest.

Harry came back to reality when a hand slipped down his own. He looked at the two hands joined and then up at Abigail giving him a tiny smile of encouragement. She raised her brows for consent to move further, one that Harry replied to with a little nod.

“Gigi?” Abigail spoke cautiously.

It took Gigi a moment to realise she was being addressed and another to realise who was addressing her. Her expression moved from glum to fury in the same synchronicity. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She growled placing her child on the seat beside her and getting up.

“Gigi-” Abigail attempted to reason, being the only one with a stable head in the moment but she was soon cut off.

“I'm sorry.” Harry abruptly said not even knowing what he was sorry for.

“Sorry? What all are you sorry for?” Gigi screamed at the top of her voice. “Actually it's not you, it's Zayn. He is the stupid one in this entire situation that he called you out of everyone to help us out. You've bailed him so many times in the past, he should've known that you'll fucking cut his call. Cut. Even after knowing what was going on and here you are showing up now. My son could've died, Zayn could've… can..can fucking die.” Her tears were endless, so was Harry's guilt and what else was endless was Abigail's shock. “And it's all because of you, Harry Styles. All because of you. I hate you, he hates you… we all hate you. You don't understand this now but the day you'll have a child and will be on the brink of losing it, you'll know how he felt when he called you and you cut his call.”

Before she even knew it, Gigi was on the floor in front of Harry's feet and the only thing audible was her cries, one after the other. Abigail knelt down to hug the blonde woman in front of her, giving her a shoulder but her own eyes never left her guilt stricken boyfriend.

Harry could not stay there anymore. He had never felt more real and vulnerable in his life as if he was being stripped naked, this time not only of his clothes but his soul. So he left, straight for the empty staircase behind a hospital door.

Abigail came there after almost an hour, the entire time Harry feeling like a child who has recently failed in a test and was waiting outside as his parent read his horrible report card.

“I didn't know. I didn't even hear him, I couldn't. He called me for first time after eight years. What did you expect me to do?” Harry spoke robotically not even looking her in the eye. “I should be leaving.”

“Harry, stop.” Abigail held his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“You heard her, he hates me. And if anything else I hate him too.” He had his lips bitten too hard after saying the last words.

“How much do you hate him?” It was more of rhetorical question Abigail had asked him, her brows together in frustration. “You hate him enough to leave him dying?”

Harry whipped around scoffing loudly, “Come on, I'm not that person. I told you I didn't even hear what he was saying on the phone.”

“You know very well that's not what I am talking about. As opposed to your thinking running away from this will not solve this issue.” It sounded more like a warning coming from her mouth. “Zayn might be on his deathbed right now. If anything you should be begging for one fucking chance to reprimand everything, but here you are.”

“Reprimand? There is nothing left. The person who needs to reprimand is on the other side.”

Abigail was high on frustration, clenching and unclenching her fist. “Harry, fuck do you suppose your ego needs any more inflation than the fact he himself called you when he needed to save his son and wife – the most crucial point of his life? What if this happened to me and our baby? Would you still not talk to Zayn for help?”

Harry felt like he had been slapped, a combination of solemn and shock in his eyes. “Abby-”

“Exactly that.” She pinpointed. “That's what he would've felt. Yet he called you, Harry.” Abigail breathed loudly before speaking.“ I have said this before and I am repeating that this is an issue. You hide the most important things, all your stories are incomplete because somewhere they are altered versions made by you that you've repeated to yourself so many times that they have become your own version of reality . The bank notice, your dad, Jeffrey and now Zayn.”

“I know that, I know this very well. Everyone have their issues, you had past issues of your own. You can't throw them on my face in an argument like that.” Harry turned around from her, taking one step down the staircase.

“You can't avoid them forever either. Somebody needs to tell you this before you make a big mistake and decide not to see Zayn,” She chided, taking a single step towards him. “I promise you, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” “You don't even know Zayn, why are you so sure about that?” “Because he so easily could be dead right now, if that happens you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. It's been more than three years your father passed away and you still beat yourself everyday that you couldn't change his opinion,” Abigail's words had suddenly dignified in Harry's opinion. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair before he slid down to sit on a stair platform. “If Zayn leaves too you'll be carrying another pile of guilt for the rest of your life Harry. And even for king of tolerance that you are, it's no easy task.” Abigail slowly followed his actions, sitting right beside him. “Be honest with me H, why don’t you want to see him again? Even after this? What’s stopping you?”

“Because I’m terrified,” He admitted pathetically. “I have done terrible things to him as well. I was twenty one, Zayn and Louis were taking morphine in a hotel room beside mine when we had a raid, it was illegal in the country. They called me and I… I left the fucking hotel, Abby.” He cried for a while, his voice reeked with guilt. “Zayn wasn't any better, though. I almost went to prison for him.”

“You both were pretty close?”

“Closest.” He replied with a tiny smile, still keeping his head down. “Growing up, things changed, what we wanted with life changed; within the band there were disagreements, but especially we both disagreed on everything. Everyone saw it, Niall sided with me, Louis sided with him and Liam was mostly trying to cool things but he was busy in his relationship back then. Worst thing, none of us ever said sorry. And,” Harry breathed deeply, “and then I did one unimaginable thing. ”

Harry looked as guilty as he sounded when he sneaked a glance at Abigail. It was difficult for him to contemplate whether telling this to her was a good idea or not. Abigail was Harry's everything and he had every intention to shower her life with confetti and roses not thorns of his own.

“H, it's just me.” She reassured him in her raspy voice.

He nodded weakly, “One night Zayn and I wrote a song together, in one sitting. He was high off his ass but I was sober, he didn't remember much of the night… so, so I never told him he wrote that too.” Harry inhaled because he needed oxygen at the moment. Abigail had her eyes closed in disappointment but what else was even expected. Harry was more disappointed with himself than anyone else could ever be. “It went to my first album, was a massive hit. Abby sometimes I really wonder what if I didn't have that song, would I still be this huge.”

“Yes,” She recited abruptly, snaking her arm around his and keeping her head on his shoulder. “Your entire album was a hit, Harry. Not just one song.”

“I know that, just can't get the thought off.” He admitted apologetically. “And what if he had it, would his career still be going strong? Mostly I think maybe that song could've helped us rekindle our friendship.” It was something Harry thought about a lot but never cared to admit. Sighing deeply, he added, “But it's been years, I'll only hurt him more by talking to him now.”

Harry has always been ricocheting to the next high, striving to be better than himself. So much so he never even realised that the skeleton in his closet was no ones but his own. And the thing about skeletons was that they were the most deep-seeded part of your body, under the fascia, beyond the organs and tearing the strong inbuilt network of nerves and vessels – the most difficult to reach. But then once you throw them off your body, all that was left was your flesh – immovable, raw, useless flesh.

So was there really a question? Sometimes keeping your skeletons in was only viable option.

Abigail nodded in that moment, pretending to understand but Harry could see very well that this was another story he had left incomplete. And with the law of life, every incomplete story needs to be completed. The more you delay the ending the biterrer the climax gets.

■ ■ ■

November 2024

“I have that covered, Mr. Styles,” Fearne, the manager of West Hollywood restaurant Catch, replied to him after a minute long listings from Harry regarding the event.

As soon as he received a nod, Harry rushed over to the foyer where a number of cameramen were assigned their positions, to take a look over the setting in the area. The restaurant was enlightened in black and gold, fire playing a important part of the decor, in a complete modern gala esque demeanour.

It was a charity party organised by GQ magazine and hosted by Harry himself, one like so many others he regularly attended.

He stood in the foyer wearing a Dior black suit and hair trimmed for the event because he wanted to personally receive his guests, especially over the first half hour. As and when his guests arrived, he would smile, hugging them all before guiding them towards their introductory glasses of champagne.

Slowly everyone around him started filtering inside, filling the once empty interiors of the restaurant. They were all in groups, of friends, associates and uncos who laughed together a bit too much to be strangers. At one point, he greeted Jeffrey and Glenne as they arrived, giving Glenne a long, friendly but keeping it highly professional with Jeffrey with a mere handshake. There was tension between the two, one that Glenne attempted to crack with a joke but she failed miserably.

But Jeffrey didn't occupy much of his thoughts, Abigail did. As time kept on rolling, Harry frowned everytime a car would arrive but it won't be Abigail's. She had told him she was feeling tired and would rather join in with the guests a while later.

After multiple calls from his new manager to come back to the party, Harry finally did. It had been forty-five minutes since the event began rolling but Abigail was not there yet. His manager guided Harry, both of them jumping from one group to another, laughing with strangers. Abigail was mentioned every time, her not being clutched to Harry's arm like she always was, questionable to people.

Harry though, could see nothing bad in it. He smiled everytime her name was taken telling them how she would be arriving soon.

After a whirlwind of congratulatory hugs and dismissable conversations, Harry excused himself from his manager's grip to look for an isolated area. He wanted nothing more than hearing Abigail's voice for once. As if on instinct his feet rolled towards to rooftop, stopping right beside the door of the rooftop as he leaned back on the wall; all the while his eyes were busy scanning through the 4000 contacts on his phone down to one name.

It was the same line repeated: ‘The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please try later.’

With every passing moment, Harry’s concern kept on growing but he tried not to over think about the situation. Closing his eyes he allowed the November breeze to hit his face, as if opening the pores on his skin that had been closed due to excessive make-up. This felt like a deja vu for him, the light music, the silent haze in a busy room, the rooftop of Catch, November… of course November of 2022 — two years back when he had first met the love of his life in a very similar environment.

“Tequila?” Harry’s face perked up at someone talking to him. For a moment he gasped as if all of his last two years were a dream and they were about to come to reality, restarting right from the beginning.

“Abby,” He said abruptly opening his eyes, the rate of his heart ricocheting to a new high. But there instead of his girlfriend, stood a waitress dressed in a uniform holding out a tray full of tequila to him.

“Sir, tequila?” She repeated in a melancholic tone and Harry smiled taking a glass from her tray before thanking her. The waitress left but he stood there on his spot smiling faintly at the glass of liquor in front of him.

Abigail had slowly engraved herself in Harry's life. Starting from the party at Catch when she asked him for a rolled green note, then the soul cycling trip, when he first took her to his Beverly Hills mansion, when she gave him the privilege to call him her boyfriend, when she told him she's having his baby, Zayn's accident — everything had and breathed her. He breathed her.

Harry had always been a musician, he never knew he was an artist until now that he had every picture of them together, painted right in his brain.

And it all started with tequila.

It was in the midst of his thoughts when Harry heard a prominent thud from the lower floor. He ushered as quickly as the crowd around him, excusing himself through the mass. There on the ground floor, in the foyer was Abigail arguing with a guardsman over something.

Something about her didn't seem alright. Instead of the designated, sophisticated dress of Gucci, she was wearing a silver-blue sequined piece that was too short to barely cover any part of her legs, it's strap falling miserably. Her hair was untamed and wild and her eyeliner was too thick and smudged for her usual liking.

She was in the midst of an argument with flailing hands and uncontrolled movements when Harry reached there, “Abby,” he called out.

“Haarryyy! Babyyyy!” Abigail's face lit up seeing him and she took a single step towards, tumbling and falling in the process. This made Harry rush ahead so that instead of the floor, she landed in his arms. She giggled like a child, squirting in his grip. “Don't I look the hottest of all? They said this is not the dress code. Something fucking sophisticated.”

There were endless clicks from the photographers in the foyer and all Harry wanted in the moment was to protect her from becoming a public nuisance. “You look brilliant, just come with me.”

“Sir I apologise, but she does not have an invitation. I'm afraid I'll have to take her.” The guard beseeched him.

“Don't dare touch her.” Harry warned in an aprising tone.“She's with me.”

While Harry was busy talking to the guardsman, Abigail had somehow managed to release from his grip moving towards the fountain that was placed as an ornament in the foyer. “Fountain?” She gasped dramatically, “That's so much water here. No, no close it. We're saving water. Harry and I will save water.”

She was pathetically trying to close the fountain, jumping in her heels to reach its top. Harry flustered even thinking how badly she reeked alcohol; and his concern proliferated as soon as the thought of his baby came to his mind.

Just then Jeffrey came up to him with a concerned tone. “Harry is she okay? There are cameras around, she's causing a scene.”

In an alarmed tone, Harry rebuked. “She's fine, I'll take care of her.” Moving towards her, he held her arms ever so lightly whispering into her ear. “Babe your strap is a little off, let me help you.”

“Oh this, let it be. This is what they live for.” Her voice was loud and messy. “Abigail Quinn can't handle herself and her dress. Abigail Quinn using beau for getting into acting. Abigail Quinn purposely got pregnant to take relationship to the next level.” She enacted them all in a mocking voice before letting out a laughter, “Let them live, H. Let them talk and slander me all they want.”

“Babe please let me take you home.” He closed his eyes, trying to take her hand but she immediately withdrew, moving closer to the main foyer where she was under the direct gaze of the cameras.

“Home? Who's home? Your $30 million mansion that I didn't even pay a penny for? Sorry-sorry, stupid me. I don't even earn, how can I pay for anything.” She laughed like girl gone mad.

“Abigail you are not in your senses right now. Come with me, please.” Harry was begging her now, him being too sure that it was the alcohol speaking not her.

“Glenneyyy!” Abigail greeted cheerly, escaping Harry's grip. She hugged a frantic Glenne almost taking her down to the floor with herself. “I missed you so much. You and Jeffrey left us and this idiot didn't even talk to Zayn, we have no friends.”

Jeffrey and Harry fast approached the two women, trying their best to protect Abigail from being hurt. Glenne on the other hand, was a frustrated figure. “Guys, what the hell? Abigail why are you shouting?”

“I am shouting? I think I'm talking too low. There's so loud music here, I can't hear a thing.” There was indeed no music. Rather everyone's attention was only on her in a pin-drop silent mode. “Can you guys hear me? Helllllooo.”

Abigail was flailing her hands, asking for a response. It provoked Glenne to quickly shove her into Harry's body, herself holding her from the other side. “Jeffrey, I need a car fast.”

Together the trio helped Abigail into Glenne and Jeffrey's car, quite like the first time they had met before Harry gave away the address to his Bel-Air Mansion.

■■■

The night seemed infinite for Harry. From the car ride to the bedroom where Abigail dozed off like she was a dead girl — Harry was only left to process what had happened. There were multiple occasions she woke up to throw up making the floor of their once paradise room a mess of bile and tears. Harry desperately cleaned it three times, spraying his best perfumes through the room to somehow wipe away everything that happened.

But what was done was done and it was out there for the world to see.

The remaining night went with him watching her sleep on their bed as he sat on the floor close to her side, running his fingers through her hair. His eyes were bloodshot and no amount of makeup could hide the once etched dark circles that had started showing up again.

It was a little over three in morning when Abigail winced loudly, almost crying while opening her eyes. Harry immediately smiled through broken lips and glistened eyes trying to contemplate what to say. But before he could, Abigail shoved him to the side and stubbed her toe on the way to the bathroom.

Twenty seven minutes from there she came from the bathroom, now dressed in a loose trouser and a tank top of her own. She stopped in her way when she saw Harry sitting on the little sofa in their room, repeatedly hitting his forehead with his knuckles, still dressed in his white button-up and dress trousers from the event.

He sat up alarmed as soon as he heard door creake close. “Are you feeling alright, now?”

She scoffed lazily taking the seat beside him on the sofa. “How would you fucking feel after pulling a stunt like that, huh? Alright? Fantastic? Sorry, sorry you don't know this feeling. You have never pulled a stunt like that, you're all clean Styles.”

“Hey, it's fine.” Harry breathed deeply keeping a light hand over her shoulder but she pushed it off as if opposed to a hand, a bulldozer was put on her. “I'm not mad at you at all for last night, we can forget it happened. I forgave you the moment.”

“You forgive me? I didn't even apologise, Harry. I don't fucking need to,” she retorted in derision. “And of course, forget. Let's forget it happened, like you forget everything else that happens.”

“Babe-”

“Don't babe me out of this.” She snapped in the instant, the next thing that followed being a little cry. One that grew into complete balling with time. Harry tried pulling her into his chest being that his own face was wet with tears. But everytime he tried touching her, Abigail would hold his hand to stop that. And this final time she kept her hold strong caressing the anchor tattoo on his hand. “The things I said last night...in.. in that condition they were all true.”

“No, no Abigail. They are not, you said them because you were not in a clear state of mind. You didn't even know what you were talking about.” He replied in a light voice yet was very sure of his statement.

But Abigail only watched him with a disgusted, ill look, “Say it loudly… no, actually face it. What do you mean by ‘not in a clear state of mind?’ Say it loudly that I was high. That I was so fucking high that I ruined your perfect image, that golden man fantasy that you worked your ass off to create.” She was frantic using hands and all. “And yeah then throw me out. Throw me out of your sick, shallow popstar life and this mansion because you're too ashamed to be near this nuisance.”

“Are you gone mad? What are you talking about?” He was too aloof and naive.

“Even now Harry? Even now you are not going to say this loud? How much of a shallow coward are you?”

Any other day Harry would probably sit her down and talk to her about this issue but right now she was guilt stricken and maybe those were the kind effects drugs brought to people. So he thought he'd only talk to her once she was well rested. What Harry didn't know was that she was too tired from being well rested.

“You're not feeling okay right now. Let's get you some rest.” He tried getting a hold of her.

“Okay? Frankly Harry I haven't ever felt better because we might just be talking about this.” She replied in a much more energetic tone. “You can't keep on avoiding the topic as if it's bleeding nothing.”

There hasn't been a word made in the Oxford dictionary for how Harry was feeling. It was chaos in the least sense of words — his heart in knots this time instead of his stomach.

“It's them ain't it?” He bit his lips to prevent any more tears to fall down — an attempt that miserably failed. “It's the media who did this to you. They always, always fucking do it to me. They chide everything that is ever good for me. It always ends this way. People have no choice but to leave me.” “Where are you in this equation, Harry?” she asked him earnestly, leaning back to the sofa before getting up from there. “You think it's the media who fucks up things for you? Goodness you blind man, you are the one who fuck things up for yourself, Harry. At least a hundred celebrities live in this city alone, the media slaughters them all, but you act like you’ve got no say in any matter. As if they are the cause of every problem of your life and you are nothing but perfect. Flashnews, you're not. It's just a fantasy crafted for the world, that's not real. At what point do you realise only you’re responsible for all the people who left you?”

“You think my whole existence is a fantasy?” He scoffed and then shook his head, “You know how terribly difficult discipline is. Yes, fucking yes, I've never touched drugs, I've always kept my behaviour in check, but do you know how damn difficult that is?”

“And what I do isn't difficult?” Abigail berated in him putting a hand on her waist, “Being a trophy girlfriend you show off to the world, who has nothing else to do but chose your clothes, make you coffee, socialize with your friends and roam like a puppy to each of your shows — isn't difficult. Fuck Harry I graduated six months back and yet I have no job.”

Harry was everything synonymous to confused. “You said you needed time. You told me you didn't want any of those jobs.”

“Did you ever ask why? Everytime I went to an interview, they pinpointed every scandal of life and turned it into a resume not even looking at my real one till they came to the final. ‘But seeing how you've cleaned up your act, being with Styles, and keeping off substance abuse, we would be willing to hire you.’” She spoke her heart out. “They didn't understand I wasn't clean. You don't fucking make me clean Harry. There were still nights I tempted to unlock that closet, to take that vial out and just-just do it. Just inhale the coke so badly that even I can't hear my voice — feel so damn high. It's such a vicious cycle that even if you touch it once, you can't get off it.. you fucking can't. That is why I never ever wanted to do it again, not even think about it again.”

Her voice broke at the end of it, one that even softened Harry's own. “W-Why didn't you ever tell me? You always told me you were clean ever since you returned to school.”

“Because you would've left me.” A chuckle escaped her lips just as a tear did from her eye, unapologetically, “You would've left me like you leave everyone else who's a threat to your image.”

He winced, “I wouldn't have left you, babe.”

“How do I know?” She shrugged, “You left Zayn and Louis. You always stay away from these things, these people.”

“They were different.” He replied with a slight frustration.

“They were your fucking best mates.”

“What do you want me to do? Be reckless like they were. And see where they are now, nowhere. There is a cost for success, I have to pay it.” Harry tried reasoning his life choices despite knowing he was somewhere always wrong.

“They are in their homes, the ones that may not be as huge as this but at least it's not empty. They have people in their lives whom they love more than fame, and who love them. They have spouses that have fucking names, Harry. Not just ‘popstar xyz's girlfriend.’” She spoke without a breath. “You see where they are now? They are exactly where I am.”

Silence was Harry's only answer as Abigail sat on their bed with a thud. A million things ran through Harry's head and for the first time since the end of the band did Harry feel that life was happening too fast.

“Babe, we both have it right? I love you more than fame and you love me as well.” He spoke timidly.

“Oh you do? Because I don't see it one bit. Do you even care how I imagined my life when I started school? Do you remember the times I told you I could do anything to not be in the public eye anymore?” She stood up facing him again, “No, you don't, otherwise you wouldn't have thrown the cameras on my face. I don't blame those outsiders Harry, but what when you yourself aren't with me. Why would this – us, even be a thing then?”

“I am not on your side? I?” He tried everything in him to not bring this up, but now he had had enough. “I have been so fucking patient with you, Abby. I kept on tell myself that vial in your dresser is just a medication, that the rolled packets of paper in the kitchen just have sugar. But no, no I am not on your side.”

She clenched her jaw, speaking ruthlessly. “That's not called being patient, that's called being in denial. That you've always been, you still still are. These are the decisions you take in your life? Avoid, deny, close your eyes when you see something wrong, cut a phone call when it's from a person you don't like, fucking leave your best mate to die.”

They were cut throat in this fight. It was not anywhere near to a discussion now.

Harry said pacing through the room. “He's not my best mate. He's a terrible human.”

“And you aren't?” She followed him before snapping at him. “You are worse Harry. You are worse.”

“At least my decisions didn't ruin my life… And if we are talking things, I think you owe me some good explanations.” Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How long have you been taking that poison of coke? How long have you been planning to assassinate our baby with that never ending addiction of yours?”

“Wrong question boy.” Abigail had a deep mockery in her tone. “The right question is why am I taking it. After three years of being clean, why I jumped back into something that fucking ruined me. And the answer is you… because of you and the countless articles tagged in your name.”

“Abby, you can't completely blame me for your addiction and you know that.”

“I know that and I'm not blaming you for it. I'm blaming me, that I even thought you were worth it. Do you have a clue of how fucking entitled you sound nowadays? Have you bleeding seen your attitude over everything?” She chided him. “Or maybe that's been you always. You've just plastered a princess face to the world and me when I met you. But when I got to know you, this boy,” she pointed up and down at him, “he is a dammit disaster.”

“What do you want me to do Abby?” Harry deadpanned defeatedly.“I.. you want me to get a plastic surgery that people won't recognize me. It's a part of me. Famous is a part of me, you have to accept that. You knew what you signed up for.”

“Yes but I expected you to be there for me, you never have.” She cried, “And buying this outside-your-budget-house, getting me gifts and taking me to your fucking stupid vacations don't count as being there for me.”

“I… I d-don't c-choose this Abigail. I don't.” He shook his head as an array of tears fell down to his hand. Harry could see what was coming, he has seen this apocalypse too many times to discern, he just didn't know why everytime it hurt more than before.

“It's history repeating right? This happened with everyone else. With Zayn, the boys, your dad?” She accused, too sure of herself. “You are given a choice to choose between your fame and these people. And you always, always chose fame. Didn't you?” It was rhetorical question but Harry wanted to shake his head at it. Denying it, but maybe even denying it will be of no use now. “You just look for escapes. Soothing escapes. Before me your work was your escape.. then I became your escape and now that even I am ruined enough to stay with you… you'll find another escape.”

“Please don't say that… I'll leave it all.” He spoke suddenly alarmed. Harry wiped his tears abruptly before holding Abigail's arms, trying to promise her something impossible through frantic words, “I promise, I'll make the world forget who Harry Styles is. For you Abby, for us, for our baby.”

“There's no baby.” She broke through his grip so harshly that it also broke his heart. “I aborted it. I.. I knew if I keep it, I'll always somehow be associated with you. I don't fucking want that.”

Just like that Harry's entire world was ripped apart. The bubble of love disappeared, the haze of their perfect world — one with him, her and their baby — burned in the warmth of Hollywood, leaving back not even ashes.

His back hit the wall and there stood no one but a lifeless man.

It felt like a few minutes expanded into eternity, breaking the dimensions of time. And eternity was a long enough time to comprehend a lot.

He spoke exanimately before a tear dropped off his eyes. “You hate me, don't you?

“No baby, no. I love you… I love you so much I can't even tell you. I just hate your choice,” she wailed, just like him. “And Harry if you want the world to forget who Harry Styles is, tear yourself apart. Fucking get a pair and apologise, Harry. Apologise to everyone you did this to. Everyone you never stood up for. Everyone you lost for fame. That's the only goddamn way you’re gonna get yourself out of this mess. And I…I have my own mess to clear, once again.”

The fight seemed closed off on both the ends. Silence enveiled the air around them as he slid to the floor, his knees pressed to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, burying his face into his worn out jeans.

“You're right, this is me. I ruined it all and only I can fix this.” He said exasperatedly before looking at her with begging eyes.“B-But.. n-not... us. Not us, right Abby?”

Abigail's face crumbled at his words as endless tears dripped down her cheeks. “Maybe Jeffrey was right when he said we are a combination of a catastrophe, hmm?” she chuckle half-heartedly, taking Harry's face in her hands, his tears wetting her palm. Harry didn't reply. He had never felt more tired in his lifetime, but watching everything you've ever built, slowly and painfully crumble down in front your eyes could do that to you. Rumours and articles had never bothered him much because the things printed were nowhere near truth. But what she said, each word off her mouth was true and that cut him like a piece of glass.

He had her head leaned against his shoulder as she briefly closed her eyes and letting time escape them. For one moment, just one moment, he needed to feel okay again. But okay was not going to come so easily, it would take years to walk down the ladder of success, to meet and apologise to everyone he had once lost, to find Harry more that Harry Styles and worst part; even if he did all of that he would never get the one woman he wants in his arms ever again.

He knew he had to start with Zayn. He owed him more than he owed anyone anything and if he is anyhow lucky Zayn would accompany him in his trip ahead, only if he was lucky.

In that one night numerous stars garnished the moon on the navy skies of California, children slept in peace between their parents in their tiny beds, concert shows sold out in a single moment, birds slowly started waking up before the break of dawn, the entire universe worked just in the equilibrium it was supposed to – amongst it all in an empty house of a posh street – a star was torn.

[leonardo-capulet]

Mutual Benefit || Annick & Leo

Who: Annick and Leo

What: After the rather trying Valentine’s Day Party, Annick and Leo talk about things, and then turn to each other for distraction and comfort.

Where: On to way to, and at Annick’s home.

When: Valentine’s Day 2022

Warning: Under this tag is smut. So, if you don’t wanna read smutty things...

Nick didn't drink all that much. Only occasionally, like with Jae. Or a glass of wine with her parents at dinner. But after seeing Cyrus at the party and her jealousy spiking, she'd gotten tipsy pretty fast. She'd misplaced Leo, not that they'd been glued to each other's side but the party was winding down and Nick was feeling the urge to get the hell out of there. She peered around the room, feeling slightly off balance as she attempted to locate him.

Fuck. Fuck Valentine's Day, and fuck this stupid party and seeing Cristian with someone else. He had no right to feel the way he did, he knew that, but the logical part of his brain had long since shut off where the submissive was concerned. It only made things worse when he kept circling back to the fact that he had been the idiot to cause this to happen. He needed to find Nick, the only damn thing making this party worth a damn. His eyes scanned the remaining people in attendance and he went in her direction, as he reached her he saw her slightly off balance and slid an arm around her. Not that he was feeling all that much better, beginning to feel the effects of multiple drinks. "Please tell me that you're ready to get the fuck out of here. I'm not sure I can handle another five minutes of this fucking music." Sure. Blame the music. Not the fact that his ex he was still in love with was not with him.

"More than ready," Nick said, grateful to have Leo's arm around her. It helped ground and comfort her at the same time. She was quite aware that his heart belonged elsewhere. That was okay. Her heart longed for someone else too. Maybe it wasn't love yet but it had been there for a long time. She turned her head and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Please get us out of here."

"Thank God for small miracles." Leo muttered as she agreed she was ready to leave. It was a rare thing for anyone to be able to turn his mood around even in the slightest these days. The quick kiss on the cheek nearly had him pull away, had it been anyone else he certainly would have. A kiss on the cheek would usually pass only with permission, on incredibly rare occasions, or if it was someone he was seeing. Not that he did that very often. Kissing on the lips? Completely out of the question, and he reminded himself she hadn't crossed that line as he nodded at her request and led her out towards a car. "I don't know about you, but I've never been happier to get the hell out of a place. I say that not as an insult either. I swear, had anyone else tried to take me to this thing, I would have left minutes after arriving, and to hell with the date." He helped her into the car before going around and getting in on the other side as he started the car to drive her home he added, "I don't think I can thank you enough... you know, for asking me to this thing. I really did enjoy going with you." He knew she understood how he was feeling, he'd seen the look in her eyes, and the direction her gaze had gone. He wasn't going to make her feel bad, and he certainly wasn't going to point out that he was second best pick.

Nick was happy to have Leo to lean on as he led her back out to the car. "Honestly, I was more than happy to get out of there. And please...don't thank me. I, mean, I'm glad you said yes. I don't think I could have faced that alone." She really liked Leo's company but it was clear that other's loomed large in both their lives. "And I enjoyed your company. Really. You're great." Annick could hear herself beginning to ramble and cut herself off. It would have just gone completely downhill from there.

Her comment had him laugh, “We sound like we’re trying to either convince ourselves, or each other, that we enjoy each other’s company. Which is a little sad, considering you’re one of the very few people I actually enjoy being around these days.” He pulled out of his parking spot and began driving. “So, do you wanna talk about it, or are we going to go with the ‘let’s pretend it never happened’ route?” Leo came to a stop and glanced over at Annick, trying to gauge how she was feeling now that they’d finally gotten away from the party.

"I know I enjoy your company or I wouldn't have asked," Nick said. Feeling distinctly less wobbly now that she was seated. "I am leaning toward the latter but I suppose that isn't fair...same old story, girl crushes on boy. Boy is oblivious. And girl is too awkward to actually say anything after having her heart broken years prior." Nick shrugged. "You have that same look...you know. The heartbroken one. It is okay, I get it."

Leo listened, and then as he began to drive again, he said, “You should just tell him. And I know you’ll say that whole awkwardness prevents you but hear me out. Just tell him. You have nothing to lose. If he doesn’t want to reciprocate, yes, it’ll hurt. But you know what will hurt worse? Not telling him, and never knowing and always asking ‘what if’ when you see him happy with someone else. If you tell him and he turns you down? Then you finally have time to heal and move on. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to fully and truly invest in someone else. So, just do it, Annick. It’s better you do.” He frowned at the fact that he looked heartbroken, even though he was. “If I’m heartbroken, it’s my own fucking fault. And I deserved what I had to deal with tonight because of it.”

Annick sighed. Leo was right, of course. But that didn't make it easy. "Okay okay, stop with your logic and making sense." He said she had nothing to lose. But when you'd already lost so much, it was hard to take that risk again. "He's not exactly the boy next door, Leo. I can't write a note and ask him 'do you like me, check yes or no.'" Annick's frown matched his. "So I was right. You're still in love, aren't you?" Weren't they a pair?"

Leo let out a huff that sounded almost as though he wanted to laugh, except he didn’t quite have the energy for it. “I’d just like to see you happy.” He began, and he knew that she was right to an extent. “Nobody ever said it would be easy. But love is never easy, I learned that the hard way. It’s messy. It’s difficult. It’s confusing... but it’s worth it. Just have a conversation with him and let him know. Explain your concerns, be honest and up front. If he’s a decent man, he won’t hold your fears against you. If he’s a piece of shit then it’ll make it easier to move on.” In the end, she just needed to tell him and get it all over with. There was no point in torturing herself with what ifs. Giving advice, however, was far easier than hearing his truths spoken out loud. He inhaled sharply, and cringed. Silence passed for a moment before he finally spoke, and at that his voice was thick and low as if he were afraid to tell someone else and make it more real. “Yes, I’m still in love.” One of his hands pulled away from the steering wheel and rubbed at his chest. “Sometimes I worry I’ll never stop loving him, and I’ll spend my whole life watching him love someone else because of my mistakes... and what’s worse is I know... I know how much he’s worth, and I’ll never be able to go back and do it all differently. I’ll never be able to take back what I did.”

In that moment, Nick wished she'd not said the words out loud. She really liked Leo and she didn't believe for a second that whatever he'd done was so horrible that it couldn't be ammended. And even if he did do something horrible, didn't he deserve forgiveness? Even if she didn't love her ex any more, she'd forgiven him long ago. She still had issues. Forgiving him hadn't made those go away. "Leo...I...I have no idea what happened. But you have to know that if he loved you back...that doesn't just vanish. Even hurt people can still love."

Her words brought back the memory of Cristian in the bathroom at the bar. The emotion that had been on his face. The words he’d said to him. Leo cleared his throat and fought back the pain that rushed through him. “I’m sure... in some way, he might love me. Just, maybe not in love with me.” And wasn’t that the biggest problem. “People don’t generally go back to the ones who left them, Annick... and I left him. I left and didn’t tell him why. Not then. He knows now. It doesn’t matter. He was at that party with someone else, and... that’s the way it should be. He deserves that. He deserves happiness.”

She was hardly the person who should be giving advice on love. She'd loved someone who cheated on her in her own bed. "Maybe. Maybe not. Leaving...I don't think that's the worst thing you can do. But...you know, it's not my business. One last thing though...I was at that party with someone else too. Sometimes things aren't always what they seem."

"Maybe it's not the worst thing that I could have done, but it's pretty bad when the person you leave... never mind." Leo sighed in frustration. "Maybe wasn't what it seemed... but he's moving on." And that hurt him more than he had even imagined that it would. "Can we talk about something else? Anything else. Otherwise, we'll end the night and you'll see me in tears, and I warn you, I hate crying in front of people. I've only done it with one other person."

"Hey fair enough," Nick said, putting up her hands. She wasn't about to make things worse. "Hey did  you see that couple that clashed? I didn't know anyone owned a chartreuse suit."

Grateful that she wasn't going to push the subject any more for the evening, Leo snorted at her comment. "Chartreuse suit. I'm pretty bold with what I wear when I feel like it, but I'm not so sure that I'm that bold. There was bound to be a couple to clash. Do you think they did it on purpose?" He asked, making a turn as he continued driving.

"Good lord, I hope not. I can't wait to see what Jean-Michele has to say about that fashion decision," Nick chuckled looking over at Leo. "Bold suits you. You looked very handsome tonight." Leo was right, they'd made a very striking couple and they got on very well. If their hearts weren't somewhere else..."Thanks for saying yes," Nick said genuinely.

Leo actually let out a short laugh. "I can only imagine what he'll say." He'd been on the receiving end of gossip before, but not for failing to dress well. He glanced over at her and gave her one of his rare smiles. "And you look beautiful." He meant it, she did look incredible. The color she wore looked good on her, and it only enhanced her beauty, in his opinion. "I should be thanking you for asking. Lucky me. Here I thought I'd have to suffer this alone, and instead I got to go with someone whose company I actually enjoy. Then, you also look good. So, at the least you have to allow me to thank you as well."

Nick flushed at the compliment, hearing the sincerity. "I suppose you are right. You're welcome," she said. "So I make a wicked cup of coffee and I make for good company? I feel like I should be getting extra points or a gold star or something," she teased, continuing with humor after once again turning the conversation serious.

A slight smile formed on his face and he nodded in agreement. "A gold star, perhaps, but you definitely deserve some sort of prize." Leo finally pulled up in front of Annick's place, putting the car in park and killing the engine, but not moving. "I'll have to find some way to repay you for your company and coffee. I feel like you've got all the advantage right now." He commented with a smile over in her direction. "Usually, it's supposed to be the other way around."

That smile had melted more then one heart. Nick was sure of it. "I am sure you will figure out a way," she said, letting him take that however he would. She was in no mood to be alone after the evening she...well, they had both had.

There was a moment where Leo considered what she said to him. Certainly, she wasn't suggesting what he thought she was. He hadn't been with anyone since Cristian. He'd only been to the brothel, and even then, his interactions had been more about orders and service to him, not sexual. Still, he felt like they were both in the same place, and God he could use it. The smile on his face became more of a smirk as he narrowed his eyes on her. "I can think of one way, but that would depend on whether you're up for it."

A small shiver ran over her at his look. It held dark promise and she was all for that. "I think you would be surprised what I would be up for...does that mean you are coming in?"

He hadn't expected the question, but there was an anticipation at her request, and he certainly wasn't going to turn it down now. Perhaps, he should have given what they were both going through, but he was never the best at making good decisions. Leo was much better at being selfish. "Yes. That means I'm definitely coming in." He climbed out of the car, and walked around to the passenger side, pulling the door open and holding his hand down to help her out. "Lead the way."

Anticipation was a heady thing and it was coursing through Annick as she took Leo's hand and let him help her from the car. She him up to her small flat, glad that she was an inherently tidy person. "It's small but mine..." she explained unlocking the door and letting him in.  It wasn't huge and modern but cozy. She spent so much time at Brainwash that she didnt need much.

Following behind her, Leo shook his head as she seemingly tried to lower his expectations for what her place looked like. "I assure you, it's fine." She hadn't seen his apartment here. She likely never would. It was small, cramped, he had still refused to unpack and boxes were piled up against the walls. The only signs that he lived in his own apartment were the dishes he'd unpacked, his alcohol, his bed, his clothes, the photo of him and Cristian on his nightstand, and the linen he needed for his bed and showering. It was a huge contrast from his usually extremely tidy self. "I can guarantee you mine is much worse." It didn't matter to him, he was there for her, anyway. Whatever the space looked like, he wouldn't care beyond surveying it to see how best to utilize the space.

Annick let the door swing open and stepped inside, waiting for him to step over the threshold before closing and locking the door behind him. She removed her jacket and hung  it on the coat tree by the door. This was always the part where she wasn't to do next. "It's mine, that is what matters." And no one could take it from her.

As he stepped inside after her, Leo's eyes took in what he could see of her apartment. He flashed her a small smile, "That's all that matters, and you can be proud of that." His eyes landed back on Annick and his brow arched, "That's enough of the small talk, though, don't you think? Now... where's the bedroom?"

Annick didn't bother answering. She pointed to an open doorway off to the side of her main living space, stomach fluttering in anticipation. Her heels clicked across the wood floor as she led him to the bedroom. Inside, she turned to face him. "Now what, Sir?"

His eyes immediately went in the direction Annick pointed in, and then followed her as she went in that direction. The moment that she turned around and asked what was next, he couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. Now came the fun part, at least for him, and it had been years since he'd had the opportunity to have a submissive this way because he'd denied himself this whole time. Moving towards her slowly, his eyes went from her own, running down the length of her body leisurely, before going back up at the same pace and locking on her gaze as he closed what little space there was between them. His arm wound around her waist pulling her into his body and his lips stopped next to her ear where he spoke low, but firmly, "Now, you'll take off your dress." Before stepping away from her so that he could watch.

Nick's eyes never left Leo's as she slid one strap off her shoulder and then the other. She reached behind her and slid the zipper down. a bit before letting it fall past her hips. It left her standing in front of him with heels and delicate lace thong, chest bare as her dress had not allowed for a proper bra. She may be awkward at time but Nick wasn't shy about her body. She could stand without shame, meeting Leo's steady gaze with her own. She stepped out of the circle of her dress at her feet and kicked it aside.

If there was one thing Leo could appreciate, it was a submissive who had confidence. He hated one who put their body down, he didn't mind someone being shy, but he had no patience for someone who couldn't love their own body. It was evident in the way she held his gaze the entire time that she had no qualms with what he was seeing. Leo certainly took in the sight of her, appreciating what he was seeing so far. He would have a closer look in a moment, but first, manners. "Very good." He murmured before crossing his arms over his chest. "Now, before I go any further, we should discuss limits. I need to know what yours are, and I should know if you use a safe word, just in case." He doubted they would need it, but it was always good to know.

Annick felt her body heat as he surveyed her. The questions were comforting and she was appreciative that he asked. "My limits are anything pertaining to the bathroom, isolation and permanent marks." She paused, wondering what he actually had in mind. "My safe word is Java."

With a nod, Leo moved in closer, again, walking towards her slowly. As he came to a stop before her his hand lifted and he grabbed her chin, holding her face so that she was forced to look at him as he spoke. "There is one rule you absolutely will follow with me. You will not kiss me on the lips. Is that understood?" He didn't wait for a response before saying, "Anywhere else is fine, and I'll work within your limits." He stepped back and let his hand travel down from her chin, down her neck, in between her breasts before it came to a rest on her hip. He walked around her slowly in a circle admiring every inch of her, she was stunning, before stopping in front of her again. "Beautiful."

"Yes, Sir, understood," Nick managed, heart racing now that he was touching her. It was not difficult to make that promise, not when he was looking at her with that intensity. His appraisal sent a wave of need through her. She remained still as he walked around her, heart refusing to slow. The compliment pulled color to her cheeks. "Thank you Sir."

He smiled as she thanked him before lifting his hands to her hair to carefully pull it loose. He then grabbed a handful and tugged her head back so that her neck was exposed to him. He leaned in, running his teeth along her skin before his other hand ran along her side, grabbing her hip and he let go of her hair to allow himself to turn her around so her back faced him. Leo pushed her over the bed so that the top half of her body laid on the mattress, he leaned over her, his clothed body pressing against hers. With one hand he tugged at her hair again, "Don't move." Releasing her hair, his fingers trailed over he back before his hand ran over the curve of her bottom and he gave it a slap. He then pushed himself upright, first removing his suit jacket. and then rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. His hands went to his belt and he pulled it out of the loops and folded it in half, giving it a snap. It had been some time since he'd used this on someone. "Do you want me to use this belt on you, Annick? I want to hear you beg for it."

The loosening of her hair was deceptively gentle, something she found to be true as he used her hair to tug back her head. Thankfully, he hadn't told her to be silent. Nick gasped as his teeth grazed her neck.  It had always been a sensitive area. Annick was slight enough that she could easily be maneuvered though Leo's size made it that much easier. She relished that he didn't treat her like she was completely fragile, though instinctively she knew she could trust him not to go too far. His touch was enough to send her senses into overdrive, so much so that when he swatted her ass, she let out a truly embarrassing moan. She missed the weight of his body against her as he stood, the sound of his belt leaving the loops of his pants loud in the otherwise quiet room." "Oh please...please Sir," Annick said, words needy as her masochistic side rose to the surface. "Use your belt, please."

Leo always did love to hear a submissive beg. Even better was how needy it sounded when the words left her lips. It sent a heat through him that drove him. As she finished begging he gave no warning before he placed a carefully aimed strike across her exposed behind. Stepping in he ran his hand over the area in slow circles letting the belt in his dominant hand trail along the length of her spine slowly. He watched her reactions before he stepped back and gave the other side a matching mark from his belt, only to run his hand over that area as well. As his hand ran over her skin he used his foot to kick her legs open, and let his belt run up her inner thigh and teasingly close to her core.

Nick's body was tense as she waited for the blow she knew was coming. She knew she should try to relax but anticipation kept her right on the edge. The sharp sting of leather against her skin pulled out a startled cry, the heat from the blow sending a flood straight to the crotch of her thong. The belt was like an extension of the dominant himself. Everywhere it touched, it left a trail of heat. Another cry at the second blow, this one ending on a wanton moan. She trembled as the leather traced her spine and scrambled to adjust as he widened her stance. The kiss of the belt between her legs pulled a quiet whimper as Annick continued to fight the urge to move.

The sounds she made as he used his belt on her drew a smirk. He absolutely loved hearing the sounds that she was making, and he wanted more. Needed to hear more. "You're doing good." He knew he had set her to a nearly impossible task by demanding she not move. With that, he brought the belt down on the back of her thigh, just under the curve of her ass. Then he did the same to the other side. His free hand reached for her thong, letting his fingers trace the line of it go her center.

The praise did a lot to assure Nick that he was pleased. After all, knowing that she was pleasing the Dominant she was with was the biggest rush. It gave her far more pleasure than anything else. As the belt hit one pale thigh, Annick couldn't help but flinch as she cried out and immediately tried to still herself as the belt landed again. She was definitely going to not be able to sit tomorrow and she was so okay with that. Nick sucked in a harsh breath as his fingers traced the lace between her thighs. "Sir."

Moving towards her, his hips right up against her Leo set the belt next to them as his hands ran over her hips and up her back, he stepped back and one of his hands moved down to spank her again, hard enough to leave another mark on her pale skin. Leo knelt behind her then and let his hands trace the lines of her legs before he leaned forward and bit at the back of one leg, not too hard, and careful to avoid the place where his belt had struck her. His fingers hooked under the band of her thong and slowly pulled it down. "Let's get this off of you." Allowing her to move so that he could pull the last, remaining piece of clothing off of her. Once it was gone, Leo was sure she was steady on her legs again, resting as she had been. He place slow kisses up the back of her thigh, and then the other. "Do you want me to touch you, Annick?" He asked as his fingers brushed close to her core. "I want to hear how much you want it."

Nick wanted more. More contact and Leo delivered. She groaned at the feeling of him pressed flushed against her before another swat saw her crying out. Each successive move on his part elicited another swifter reaction. When his teeth sank into her skin, her legs actually buckled. "Please," Nick whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as pain and pleasure blended and had her soaring higher. "Need you to touch me. Anything...just...please..."

Her begging pleas for more shot through him, driving Leo to do more and get more from her. "Ah, ah.." He warned as her legs buckled at his actions. "I said don't. Move." His hand spanked her firmly with each of his last two words, punctuating his command. They would likely leave his handprint on her, and he was pleased at that thought. However, hearing her beg for more of his touch, he happily obliged. Leo's hands firmly gripped her hips as he leaned forward and let his tongue run from her clit and up along her core in a torturously slow movement. He let out a low groan at her taste as his tongue dipped into her before moving to tease at her clit in slow sweeps.

Annick whimpered as his hand landed against her already sore ass. The move had truly been involuntary but was in no position to argue even if she wanted to. A low moan issued from her throat as his tongue parted her lips and found the most intimate part of her. She was soaked already and his wicked tongue drew another flood of wetness to her core.

Leo smirked against her as he heard her moan, pulling away he immediately replaced his tongue with his fingers. Slipping a finger into her, moving in and out of her slowly. Leo turned his head so his lips brushed the back of her thigh, and then he nipped at the skin there before saying, "You will tell me when you're about to come." In the mean time, he was going to enjoy getting her there. Removing his hands, he gripped her hips again, his mouth going back to work, his tongue moving into her just as his finger had been moments before.

Nick could feel the curve of his lips against her body. The gentle brush of lips against her thigh was in direct contrast to the way his finger moved inside her and the sharp nip that came after. "Yes sir," Nick replied, breath coming out low and breathy. The wicked slide of his tongue into her made her grasp the sheets tighter, knuckles white as she staved off her orgasm.

Sitting back, Leo’s hands ran over the marks that he’d made on her skin from his belt and hand with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Come here, Annick. Sit on the edge of the bed for me.” He commanded with a low steady voice, kneeling patiently for her to change her position.

With slow movements born of the soreness in her ass, Annick did as she was told, perching on the edge of the bed. "Like this, Sir?"

He knew it likely wasn’t comfortable to sit the way she was, but Leo wanted to remind her of what he’d done previously. “Yes.” His hands drifted up her legs. “You’re being very good for me. Remember, tell me when you’re about to come.” He hooked one arm under her knee and lifted it onto his shoulder. Nipping at her inner thigh he also added, “This time, you can move, or touch me if you like.” With that he slid a finger into her as his tongue once again found her clit.

It took all of five seconds of Leo's mouth working her over again before Nick's fingers were sliding into his hair with a sigh, thrilled to finally have an anchor. Unfortunately it didn't keep her from racing towards release. Leo was far too skilled for her to last very long. "Sir, Sir, too much...close..." she cried as she fought to keep her hips in check.

It was easy for Leo to lose himself in what he was doing, the taste of her, and the feel of her fingers in his hair. It had been far too long since he’d had any submissive holding onto him this way and he had missed that feeling. At her cries Leo stopped immediately, looking up at her. “Good girl.” Leo came to stand before her, his fingers getting a hold of her hair before pulling so that he could trail kisses up her neck. Taking a step back, he pulled away and met her eyes and crooked his finger to gesture for her to come to him. “On your knees, right here. Your turn.” He pointed to the space before him.

Annick slid off the bed and to her knees, the praise fueling her movements even as she tried to calm her breathing. She looked up from her position below him, hands resting on her knees as she waited for further instruction.

Leo's fingers were gentle at first, sliding into her hair as she knelt before him. He felt some of the stress and strain ease from him as he looked at her before him on her knees in a perfect submissive position. His fingers tightened in her hair as his other hand went to his pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. "Pull them down." Leo instructed.

Nick unconsciously licked her dry lips as Leo's hand tightened in her hair. She followed his directions to the letter, eager to earn his praise again. Nimble fingers hooked in his waist band and slid his trousers over his hips.

Fingers slipped into her hair again as he watched her follow through on his instructions. Leo took a moment to kick his shoes off, and kick aside those and his pants before tugging at Annick's hair that he still held onto so she was forced to look up at him saying, "Underwear, too."

Nick whimpered as he tugged her hair, eyes travelling up until her eyes were once again locked with his. Her fingers curled in the waist of his underwear in order to ease them down over his hips.

A smirk pulled at his features at the whimper that Annick made. With his other hand he cupped her chin, still looking her in the eye as he ran his thumb over her lips. “Now use that pretty mouth of yours to suck.”

Nick didn't hesitate. Her tongue darted out and traveled the path his thumb had drawn over her lip. Since Leo didn't seem to be in the mood for any teasing, Nick didn't bother trying to draw anything out. She leaned in, hand reaching to wrap around his cock as she drew him into her mouth delighting in the heavy weight of him on her tongue.

As her mouth wrapped around him Leo allowed his eyelids to close with a low groan escaping him. His fingers tightened in her hair, exhibiting some control for now, allowing her to do as she would for the time being and just enjoying the feel of her mouth on him. His eyes opened again, watching her every move. "What a good girl." He praised, letting his fingers run through her hair before replacing them and getting another tight grip on it again.

Every bit of praise from his mouth pushed her a little farther into her submission. It also continued to fuel her desire to be better, do more. She bobbed her head rhythmically, gazed turned up as she took as much as she could.

Another moan escaped him as Leo’s eyes too in the sight of her pleasing him. Her eyes locking on him made him smirk before both hands grabbed her hair tightly, and taking control of the pace, moving in and drawing back from her mouth. His head fell back with a low groan, “Fuck.”

Annick revelled in his moan, body responding in kind. She relaxed as best she could when he took control though her hands reached to brace themselves against his muscular thighs. Wide, watery eyes watched as his head fell back and her own moan reverberated around his length, making her sound a little ridiculous though she hardly cared at the moment. Her current world was narrowed to pleasing him and that was enough.

It had been too damn long since Leo had done something like this, and he felt himself getting close to the edge quicker than he’d anticipated. Like hell was he going to finish now. He pulled her head back from him and met her gaze. “I want to fuck you, so are you good, or am I going to need a condom?” Admittedly, he didn’t normally ask subs in the past when he was a whole lot less careful. He would either purposely take care of himself, or he’d assume. For Annick? He actually did care.

Nick looked up, eyes glazed and lips red and swollen from use. "I am good. I have an implant and am clean." She bit her lip, body still thrumming with need. "Fuck me...sir. please."

He could have thanked God that she was good to go, not that he expected any different, but he needed to check. Her begging made him burn with that need he'd pushed back so long. "Get on the bed and lay back." He commanded, releasing his hold on her to allow her to move.

At the order, Annick scrambled to obey. The begging had been sincere. She needed this as much as it seemed he did. Moving quickly she lay back on her bed, breath already coming faster.

Leo stepped away from his clothes as she moved to the bed, then wasted no time climbing on it and closing the space between them. His left hand skimmed up the back of one leg, starting at the ankle, and stopping behind her knee to pull it around his hip as he braced himself with his other arm, hovering over her. With that he thrust himself inside her with a groan, not bothering with being gentle at this point. He needed this release. As he began to move inside her he hooked her leg around his waist and let go. Leo grabbed one hand pinning it over her head, then did the same with the other.

No gentleness we needed or wanted.  Annick held her breath as he settled over her, holding her breath in anticipation. As he entered her, she cried out in pleasure, body arching toward his even as he pinned her down. Since her hands were unusable, her legs wrapped around him tightly.

Letting out a moan as her legs wrapped around him, Leo kept up his pace, and lost himself quickly in the feel of her around him. He dipped his head down, his lips finding her neck, placing a kiss there before his teeth scraped over the skin and he nipped at it gently at first. Moving to another spot to do the same, a little harder this time as he slowly released his hold on her arms, wanting to feel her touch him.

Nick's body welcomed everything Leo gave her. She moaned wantonly at the feel of his teeth, hoping she'd have a reminder later. As he released his hold, her hand greedily reach for him, needing to feel the warm of his skin and tangle slender fingers into his hair. Purposefully she clenched, needing to draw out more from him.

The feel of her fingers in his hair was near enough to have him moan, until she tugged and a loud moan tore from him, spurring him on. “Harder. Pull harder.” He demanded as his hips met hers harder than before, loving the roughness. His fingers wound into her hair as well, pulling her head to the side to expose her neck more and he bit at her neck before sucking on the exposed skin, leaving marks behind that would be visible in the coming days.

Nick had no problem conceding to that demand. Not when his lips and teeth sought to mark her and every thrust brought her closer to the edge. She gave back nearly as good as she got, nails biting into his skin on the next harsh thrust.

Feeling Annick’s nails in his skin, he groaned. After a few more hard thrusts, he hooked his arm around one of her legs, drawing it up over his shoulder as he repositioned. Getting more leverage so he could go deeper, he turned his face to nip at her leg on his shoulder where he could reach. “Fuck...” he let out as the change in position brought him even closer to the edge.

Nick gasped at the change in position, other leg remaining wrapped around his hip. Heat continued to build as he fucked her until she rode that fine edge of release. She fought it back, nails contining to dig into his skin. "C-can't...please...so close..." Nick's words were closer to babble at this point as she did her best to put the brakes on her release.

As much as Leo wanted that release. He wanted to make her wait just a little longer. Pulling out quickly, he slid her leg off his shoulder before roughly turning her over onto her stomach and pulling her hips up so she was on her knees. Without warning he positioned himself and swiftly entered her pulling her hips into his with a curse that filled the silence. He reached forward, grabbing her hair once again and pulling her head back as he leaned over her and bit at her shoulder. “Beg. Beg for me to let you come.”

Annick hadn't expected the movement but didn't fight it. It was thrilling really that Leo was able to move her with such ease. Her own cry overrode his curse as he entered her, soaked folds easily welcoming his length back into her body. The sharp pain of having her head pulled back brought tears to her eyes. "F-fuck...please...please Sir," Nick sobbed, tears threatening to spill over even as her body demanded release.

She couldn’t see the smirk that crossed his features as she begged. He didn’t give her permission immediately, however, letting his hips work against her for a little longer before he knew he was reaching the end of his own control. His free hand went around her hip, his fingers finding her sensitive bud, teasing it to help bring about the orgasm he was seeking from her. “Come for me, now, Annick.” The command sounding more like a growl.

Nick had a white-knuckled grip on the sheets underneath her. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep hanging on and not let the pleasure overtake her. Another cry issued from her as he found her clit and it took only that little bit of contact and his permission for her to shatter apart spectacularly.

Seeing her come undone from his actions, Leo let out a moan. He could feel her tighten around him, drawing him closer to his own release. Seeking his own end, his hands went to her hips, gripping tightly as his hips drove into hers. It wasn't much longer, now that he wasn't trying to maintain control, that he cried out, "FUCK!" His hips slowing as he rode out the waves of his own orgasm before collapsing over her back for just a moment before, rather ungracefully, removing himself and falling onto his back next to her with a satisfied groan.

There was just something about when a partner lost control that sent a rush through Annick. She had caused that pleasure. That feeling was nearly always better than her own release. She felt the weight of him for a moment before he was gone and she was left empty. It would bother her later, maybe. But now, she collapsed herself, head buried in her arms.

Turning his head to look over at her, Leo had a fleeting moment where he worried whether he might have been too rough, but then pushed the thought aside. "How're you feeling?" He asked with genuine concern. "Do you need me to take care of where I used my belt on you?" Those would likely be the most painful of the areas, as he hadn't been gentle with his lashes.

Annick turned her head, a loopy sort of smile on her face. "I feel amazing," she said still a bit dazed. "I should be fine. I can't see back there though. I have some arnica in the bathroom if you could help me with that." It hadn't been so intense she was at risk of dropping. She was good with feeling very bruise left behind but better safe than sorry. "How are you feeling? No regrets?"

Leaning over towards her, he took a look and nodded. "You should be good, but I'll go get it anyway." He was about to push himself out of bed when her question hit him. He lifted a brow at her, an easy smirk on his face. "Oh please. Regrets? Absolutely not." He bent down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Be right back, I'm gonna get that stuff for you." He said gently before hopping out of bed and going to the bathroom, finding what he needed and returning. As he settled himself next to her, opening the container he asked, "What about you? Any regrets?" Even if Leo wasn't the sort of man to have regrets, she might have some. Didn't hurt to check.

"Absolutely none." She regretted lots of things she had done on her life but this was not one. They'd both needed it. A connection if even for a moment. That it was with someone that she was beginning to think of as a dear friend only made it better.

A small smile broke on his face, "Good." He said as he reached out to apply some arnica on her skin. Once finished, he closed the container and sighed. "I should probably get going." There was a part of him that nearly asked unless she wanted him to stay. In truth, he'd gotten used to contact after being with someone, after having been with Cristian. He actually missed that proximity, but there was another part of him that felt ready to jump out of his skin at the idea of how intimate that could get. He got up, replacing the container and when he entered the room again he began getting dressed, his eyes looking over at Annick until he finished and climbed back on the bed next to her. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? Wanna talk to me, if you just want company. Whatever you need, and I don't care what time it is. You know where to reach me." Leo said, reaching out to brush her hair back and offered her a smile. "And thank you again, for tonight, for asking me to go with you. All of it."

[yourghastlycloseness]

currently waiting to board my plane to busan. my age is really starting to show—under the current lighting, and on the reflective surface of my phone when the screen goes dark, i see that my nasolabial folds are more glaringly obvious than ever. because of my height, i still get mistaken for being younger than my twenty-seven years. but my face is really ambiguous, both age and ethnicity-wise. lots of pretty girls at the airport. wish i were pretty. i don’t want to look young, just beautiful. beauty is something some people have regardless of age, and sometimes, because of it. people talk about personality and charm but there is just a certain standard of physical beauty that i believe is quite universal and so unshaken when it exists. she may suck ass, get dementia, beat up frail old people, but she still has a beautiful swan-like neck and that’s hers to call her own. there’s something grand about physical beauty that you can call your own. i think it’s the best kind of beauty.

im here, all alone, at this airport—terminal 1, it’s nice—waiting for a red-eye flight because i had my heart broken earlier this year lmfao. yes it was because of a person. but ultimately, i let them hurt me; i broke my own heart because i couldn’t stop myself from jumping into something that wasn’t good for me. prior to that, i was also dealing quietly with the stinging non-acceptance into the JET programme. note: non-acceptance, i.e. they kept me on a waiting list but didn’t explicitly reject me until eight months later. i wasn’t a fool holding onto false hope. but it hurt anyway. i suppose im spiritually exhausted because the same thing happened with the person who had affected me so much for a good part of early 2022. an explicit rejection would have been easier. why didn’t they? in the end, i made the decision to “leave” (hah) in that i let them know i wasn’t going to come back to where they were for some time. and just like that, they were gone from my life. i was left there, languishing for months. this is not an accusation. i am just as complicit, in fact maybe more so, in my own suffering. i’d say i’m the architect of it, even.

things are looking up for me (or are they? too soon to say). today i was informed that ive been offered a place at a local arts university here for an MA in creative writing. it’s not cheap. actually, it’s fucking exp lol. ive been told to confirm my acceptance and make payment within the next two weeks, else my place will go to the next student on the waiting list.

waiting lists are purgatories. i wanted to type “halfway house” but i don’t actually know what that means and it doesn’t sound like a fitting description. sometimes i use words without knowing what they mean, i just go by whether it feels right or wrong. “halfway house” (i don’t mean the definition referring to a facility) feels wrong. being on a waiting list isn’t being halfway there; it’s more like you’re left out in the dark and cold but get thrust back into light and warmth if you’re lucky, and someone forfeits their place, and you’re somehow next in life. there’s nothing halfway about this. it’s luck; a switch waiting to be flipped.

i don’t know if the selection panel really reviewed my portfolio proper. my guess is they just looked for decent grammar, flow, and structure in the submissions. i had submitted a story spun out of the weird situation i was in with that person. glad all the pain was of some use lol.

[harrison-abbott]

28 May 2022

28 May 2022

  You thought you’d try get the band back together. Remembering all those rock and roll days. This fantastic history which never really happened … aside from in your mind. Or is this too harsh?

 It’s not like you’ve lost a love for the drums, the thump of bass, zeal of the strings. Sometimes you wish you could turn your mind off. Let it rest. For a while. You turn in after a twenty hour day, coming back from Europe. And try to sleep. You can’t. Wake up after three hours and your condition’s still throbbing. Once more unto the breach dear friends.

 You saw no stars in Budapest. Only the river, the light. The ferocious zeal of urbanity. It was a valuable jaunt. Love struck you down again and you muddled up your history. Lay sweating on your bed, all glued up by a failed sense of love. That L word with such a mighty thrust to it. It’s as if you were one person once and cannot remember who you are.

 Under the rooftop in the darkness you spoke to her in harsh neon and she only apologised. You hung up. Childish. Apologised in the morning and she accepted it. And you just cried all day. Lost count of how many times you wept. Kids looking at you in the airport, razed out of your mind at ten in the morning, the sunshine not so special anymore.

 To hear a voice. This strand of desire and hurt and lost patience … the smell of another body. The way she clicked when she slept by you. Those days when you could sleep a bit better.

 Suddenly the room was claustrophobic. You thought maybe you could survive solely on words. But there are too many of them. All revolving in a maddened wind. You’re in there. Signed yourself up to literature quite some time ago.

 Then you turn on some music. A famous tune you’ve heard many a time and he’s singing about some other woman you don’t know … then goes aff on a story on the harmonica. It’s as beautiful as anything is. As she was. Maybe you shouldn’t feel so abnormal.

 So why’s it you think you live in the past so much? Cos, you were all exhilarated, all blushed with exploration. Then the past thumped you in the nose. Some headbutt of memory.

 And it will be a hard day today too now that you have to re-enter the hard world. Almost entirely because of your condition. But there’s a party at the end of it. A literal one. Least folks still invite you to parties.

 Ten hours in a workplace without the colleagues knowing your heart’s a bit arrested.

 The book you took to Budapest was epic and clever and you were liking it. A lot of the issue was that you didn’t write much for nearly five days … and it’s a fine thing to be back on a typewriter again boyo.

 When you run into a bad memory you should stop saying her name. You’re comparing yourself against something which has already been unproven. It’s like how you write about all of these mean high school teachers, these thugs who got you when you were a boy. You believe they’re still alive. When they aren’t. Life needn’t always be a novel. It’s not like you are this amazing character in a roving book. Surely?

 I suppose you have to risk asking the questions. The answers can surprise you. All that old gang which you addressed a large part of your youth to: they’re still there. Back there. They came to this nation and then they just returned and that’s it. And yet you go back to the hooks and jabs, the passion of an insult as if you were addicted. You know you’ll never go back to that city. Not Budapest. Lodz. Polska, and you’ve written about that nation so many times in your work.

 (“If you can’t help it then just leave it alone,” was the quote. Well, yeah that’s an option. What happened to Elliott Smith in the end?)

 Then the tracklist moves onwards and the birds have just awoken and are sleepily tittering in the garden hedges. You’re glad the temperature in the hometown is calmer.

 This laptop’s almost dead. The battery’s been jaded for some time and the red light blinks when it’s sore. Have had this computer since the age I’m all on about here. Has helped churn out a lot of material. And thus it seems like the changes in yo days are aligning.

 There was another example a while back. Somebody told you they saw one of your old high school friends. Who you were so angry with for so long. The news was that they were pushing a pram. So he had a kid. And you just thought, “Ah, that’s nice.” And realised that the hate never goes anywhere. It’s just useless. Has no function and only wears you out.

 And it was the same with that Budapest phonecall. She told you about her friend. She has a kid these days too. Has a lil baby bambino … and you had the same reaction. It’s just sweet. A merry fact. And I hope they’ll all be swell.

 This city (my city) is nigh silent just now. 5 a.m. and a shy yellow sky. Big clock on the kitchen wall is the main presence of noise. And you always thought clocks were soporific anyways. You are not ready to sign off just yet. Not even for this specific day. There is far too much work needing done and you’re the one that must figure out the executions. It was a valid thing to have a bipolar holiday in Budapest. You don’t need to apologise for being hurt about the past. This is your mistake. That you think it’s only you who should delete grief. As opposed to riding through grief, via the sounds of another country. No need to shut it away. Wrap up in your own sensitivity. Express it, instead. Survive.

[faint-waves-music]

The State Of Faint Waves, 2022 and beyond.

Few will read this, of that I have no doubt. However, I’ve always enjoyed writing and I think for my sanity, it’s important I record some things here. For myself, if no one else.

I’m coming up on ten years since the inception of this project. I wasn’t particularly doing anything other than tinkering and you could argue I didn’t even really begin, as I am now, until 2015. However, the project began, the name was created and the idea was born in 2013. With that in mind, I think it’s important for me to acknowledge that I have not made the strides I thought I would in this amount of time. Yet, I’ve also accomplished more than I could’ve dreamed. It’s a conundrum, I know. I suppose it’s the dream vs the expectation. Did I expect what I’ve gotten, how far I’ve come? I didn’t and that’s why I’m proud of what I’ve built, even if it’s not as grand as you or I might think it should be after nearly a decade.

I use that word, “built”, because it’s very much true. I have put music and this project first in many respects, sometimes even to my detriment. I’ve fought to get to something, to create something, to find my sounds and construct a musical world with them. In the process, I’ve struggled and I’ve learned, and I’ve made strides musically. I’m still learning, I will be until the end. Time has passed and I’ve done so much, I can look at my body of work and I see now that I’ve made music I love and sought out before I was a musician. Of course, my relationship with it is not one like the listener, but it’s gratifying in a different way. It’s been a long road and I guess that’s why I’m writing this, reflecting on everything and sort of declaring where I am and how I’m moving forward with this project.

I’ve struggled a lot during the tenure of this project, on a personal level. I hesitate to use the word suffering, because there are individuals out there who face true strife and hardship every day. Me, my problems and the turmoil I’ve faced, much of it is my own doing — be it directly or indirectly. Some it as well is because I’m so sensitive, it’s far easier for me to shut out or ignore feelings I dislike than to actually face and process cruelty and sadness of any fashion. I suppose life and the last six years in particular, they’ve jaded and hindered me. I’ve wallowed, grieved, and I’ve succumb to torment and anguish, both mental and physical. I have broken through all that but I will have to fight for the rest of my life, likely. This all sounds bleak but I assure you, I am well. The worst is behind me. I’m just saying that there’s much I’ve worked through and likely, will continue to work through, as time goes on. How Faint Waves factors in, is complicated. There have been times where I felt I haven’t had it in me to continue, others where I feel inspired and could keep going forever. Balance or clarity in that respect, it’s rare for me.

I have no intention of ending this project, I suppose that’s important to address. My output in recent years has probably been evidence enough of that. Simultaneously though, I know this road can’t continue like it has been. Things must change. Pumping out themed EP’s is nice, as a novelty, but it’s not something I can do forever. Thus far, the muse has been there and the EP’s have come, with relative ease. Most of them have been “successful”, it hasn’t been a case of diminishing returns. For that I am grateful. Thank you for your support. However, beyond the muse and the inspiration, I have to continue to build. There are certain goal posts I’ve reached in increments over the years, the most recent is getting an entirely original work of mine (and mine alone) on physical. Which is happening, my EP, Statue & Palm (originally intended for release through Adhesive Sounds), will be on tape through Utopia District (not Tiger Blood as I originally thought). It’s happening though, at least.

That’s one less goal, which is great, and I’ll be glad when it’s behind me. On to the next. I have to keeping striving for something more, in respect to my life and my music. I say “my life” because, even after all these years, I don’t understand myself as well as I like and I’m unsure of who I am as a person. That’s a personal detail and again, there’s a great lack of balance and clarity there. Maybe the picture will be clear one day or perhaps, it never will be. I don’t know. I may never reach a true “self”. I feel compelled to keep searching, though. I haven’t found whatever it is I’m looking for and despite my many strides in certain areas like my years of sobriety, I feel my life and my inner being is still in disrepair. I can’t blame the music for that, if anything, it’s helped me. It’s the great love of my life and my purpose, one of them at least. It always has been. Yet, like I said, I’ve put it first time and again. Perhaps, that’s simply not sustainable like it has been. I must put me first and look ahead, continue growing and changing, and learning. The desire for that might be why I’ve been looking toward the future, trying to imagine how I could continue, as a person and as Faint Waves.

The only thing to say in that respect, is that there’s a lot of work to be done. Especially in terms of myself. As for Faint Waves, what I have envisioned lately, is quite ambitious. I’ve always known how to dream, it’s just bringing those dreams to life that I’ve struggled with. A way forward that I can see is, of course, finally constructing a live show for Faint Waves and taking it out there on the road. Which, needless to say, is no small task. Frankly, it isn’t at all doable right now and won’t happen this year, but it’s now something I want to work toward. It’s never once really been on the table, despite the occasional ask, but I can see how to do it now. Other goal posts have to come first, I need to grow as a musician and my audience has to grow substantially for it to be a legitimate option, so we’re talking three years minimum if I’m being realistic. Even so, the desire is there, for the first time. It came after a sort of epiphany I had watching a concert film, it was one of those rare moments of clarity where I had enough perspective to see that it was within my power.

Another goal, is a true full length album, maybe more than that in the long term. I say “true”, because Great Blue is almost like more of an eclectic mixtape rooted in pop and dance sounds, a concept album almost. I would like to make a cohesive, concrete full length debut album, featuring both instrumental songs and vocal tracks. One area that has become clearer with time, is the artist that I am, it’s just becoming the one that I can be that I must work toward. Some other things, on a personal level, have to happen before I can get there. It’s a confluence of things, a storm, and I am in the eye of it. I am scared and hopeful in regards to the person I can become, I am grieving the person I thought I wanted to be but now understand that I cannot be, and I am being the person who simultaneously feels stuck and as though I am running out of time. Faint Waves, too, is caught in the middle of all of it. So, I have to keep putting in the work, trying to understand and learn. I have to change, the music has to change, I have to make decisions, and find direction. There’s a future for me and a future for Faint Waves, I can see how they can coincide, and that makes me optimistic for the future — no matter how daunting it may be.

Thank you.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #462

Top Ten Things That Hopefully Will Actually Happen in 2021

I mean, it’s got to be better than last year, hasn’t it? Just on law of averages. I know it’s not really the greatest start. Everything’s shut again but it’s colder now. We’ve not got a handle on this thing. The idiots are still in charge. But I still feel cautiously optimistic. There is a vaccine now, at least. Trump is gone, barring some cataclysmic last-minute kerfuffle. A new lockdown is required, so hopefully however painful it is right now it’ll be the death throws of this wretched virus. Will 2021 look like 2019? No, not a chance. But maybe by summer, by autumn, we’ll be well over the hill. 2022, hopefully, will be great.

Not that I’m writing off the new year altogether! No siree. I think this is the year we turn the corner and see the road before us. I think this year can be good, and I think that – outside of pandemic and politics – there is quite a lot to look forward to.

I’m not right now talking about personal ambitions or wider, geopolitical hopes and dreams. This is all about stuff that I want to see or play or whatever. Things that don’t really have any bearing on if the world keeps spinning or we all make it through another tumultuous twelvemonth relatively unscathed. Just, y’know, stuff that’d be nice.

Cinematic Superheroes: 2020 was a bonkers year, and one of the things that was bonkers as it unfolded was how all these huge movies kept getting pushed back. As a result, there were precisely no Marvel Cinematic Universe productions released. Like, at all. Thankfully – hopefully – that will change in 2021. As well as some Disney+ stuff (see below) there’ll also be the belated release of Wonder Woman 1984, which came out around Christmas but which I’ll probably stream this month; and, lockdown permitting, we should finally see the likes of Black Widow, The Eternals, and things that were already scheduled for ’21 such as DC’s The Batman and The Suicide Squad. And y’know what? I’m even looking forward to Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Yeah, maybe some more will slip, but I’m just glad that we’re finally getting some men in tights back in our lives.

Plus all these Great Shows: just before Christmas Disney outlined its slate of upcoming releases and by Crikey it was mega. And the best part is, so many of these shows and films are imminent! In a couple of weeks WandaVision will hit Disney+, and later this year we’ll also see (I do believe) The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, maybe Loki, The Book of Boba Fett, and maaaaaybe if we’re lucky Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even outside of the other movies and things that they announced, and even if we don’t look as far ahead as 2022, Disney+ has a hell of a lineup for this year, and even if lockdown closes the cinemas, we can still enjoy a nice good stream.

Starred Up: the arrival of Star, the “grown-up” channel on Disney+, was confirmed (and confirmed to be included in the existing sub, which was nice), and recently it was announced that it will go live on February 23rd. For some reason I was expecting it later, so that’s nice. It’ll be good to see some of the smuttier Marvel movies make their return (especially Fox’s X-masterpiece, Logan), but I’m more looking forward to having all the Die Hards and Aliens in one place. Even the crap ones.

Finally, Halo Infinite: I really like Halo; it’s pretty much the reason I ever bought a console in the first place. So I was incredibly excited for Halo Infinite, and – I must confess – a bit disappointed by its reveal. A delay is fine; take your time, do a good job, try to avoid crunch. I’ve got more than enough to play. But with my pretty new Series X installed next to my shiny new 4K TV, I’d love to get into a proper new Master Chief adventure once again. And finally it’ll happen! My Big Christmas Game for 2021 is sorted.

Return of the (Lego) Jedi: speaking of Big Games for 2021… I love the Lego games from Traveller’s Tales, and it all started with Lego Star Wars. With the release of The Rise of Skywalker in 2019, I kind of assumed they’d be making a new one, and they are: The Skywalker Saga. Much delayed (I think it was meant to come out last summer originally?), but finally making its debut at some point in 2021, it promises to be a more expansive effort than any previous Lego game, and also offers a fresh look at every film in the increasingly-inaccurately-named trilogy. My youngest is really getting into Star Wars and she loves the Lego games, so this is something we can really enjoy together.

2020’s Greatest Hits: yeah, lots of great things coming out in 2021, but I gotta say one thing I’m really looking forward to is catching up on all of the things that were supposed to come out in 2020. I’ve already mentioned the likes of Black Widow, but there’s Coming 2 America (on Prime Video in March), Dune (potentially still hitting cinemas), No Time to Die (God knows), Spielberg’s West Side Story (delayed a whole year!)… even smaller-scale things like the cool-looking Freaky have been pushed right back. And whilst I’m not exactly looking forward to it, pity poor Peter Rabbit 2, knocked from an early Easter slot when the first lockdown hit, only to have its February half-term run destroyed by Lockdown III. Maybe next year, eh, Peter?

Matrix of Leadership: The Matrix turns 22 this year, shockingly enough, and last time I watched it was still absolutely brilliant in one of those hardly-ever-happens ways. The sequels I could live without, although I’ll warrant they’re still stylish with nice action, but they were a huge disappointment (moreso for me than the often-lambasted Star Wars prequels). However, I am super excited for Lana Wachowski returning to direct a fourth Matrix movie. I don’t know why, but I just think it’ll be great; there’s twenty years’ worth of “internet stuff” and “games stuff” and “comics stuff” she can use as reference or in-joke, and let’s face it, Keanu Reeves has never kicked as much ass in his life as he does in the John Wick movies, so we don’t need to worry about that. What the hell will it be about? How can you make a sequel to what felt like a pretty definitive ending? I mean, half the characters died (spoiler!). But I don’t care about that, I just want to see it (hopefully at a cinema).

One (Other) Ring to Rule Them All: I ended up spending quite a bit of time in Middle-Earth in 2020, including reading The Hobbit to my girls, Unfinished Tales, and Ian Nathan’s book about the making of Peter Jackson’s trilogy, Anything You Can Imagine. So I am, shall we say, primed for Amazon’s new TV adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s opus. The Lord of the Rings series – as I think it might still be called? – will be set a lot earlier than the more famous stories, and although there are a lot of potential hiccups and hurdles in the way, I hope the less-familiar period and setting will offer scope for a series to make its own unexpected journey, showing even those that have read The Silmarillion something they’ve not seen before. I hope they don’t try to make it into Game of Thrones, and I hope they don’t try to shoehorn in too many aspects of The Lord of the Rings (I mean, hobbits shouldn’t really feature too much into it, surely?), but the pedigree is strong and I’m very excited.

Sinful: Russell T. Davies’ last show, Years and Years, was a fascinating combination of terrifying apocalyptic sci-fi and domestic soap opera, and one of the best things that happened in 2019. His next show, It’s a Sin, is about something altogether more real but still apocalyptic: the AIDS crisis in the gay community of the 1980s. I imagine he’ll still be expertly combining soapy drama with casual gaggery and moments of utter heartbreak. Apparently this is a story very close to his heart that he’s been wanting to tell for – yes – years and years, so it’s sure to be one of the TV highlights of 2021.

The Unconfirmed: one of the great things at the start of the year is, you don’t know what you’re going to get. Sometimes you get, well, 2020. But sometimes you don’t! Sometimes you get a year in film like 1984 (Terminator! Ghostbusters! Gremlins!) or 1999 (Matrix! Fight Club! American Beauty!); sometimes you get a year in gaming like 1998 (Half-Life! Zelda! Grim Fandango!) or 2007 (Halo! BioShock! Crackdown!). What’s coming this year? Well, with the new consoles out, we’re going to finally start seeing some new games that wrestle with the hardware; not just the cross-generational likes of Halo or Horizon but some new games, some unannounced games. We’ll also, no doubt, see proper footage and trailers for stuff we do know – Hellblade, Fable, hopefully Perfect Dark. Taika Waititi’s got at least two films on the go; that’ll be good. Spielberg doesn’t usually rest on his laurels; he’s finished West Side Story, so what’s next? Bond will come out, somewhere, somehow; will we get the announcement of a new Bond? Speaking of recasting, is Jodie Whittaker really leaving Doctor Who? I’ve not been too fussed with the show the last couple of years, but I’m always rooting for her and will be sad to see her go; but does that mean we’re in for another New Doctor palaver later this year too? Will we see or hear anything of Rian Johnson’s Star Wars films or, even better, a Knives Out sequel? The new Stranger Things has got to be this year, hasn’t it? What about Star Trek – Picard season 2 and Discovery season 4 should be happening, but will we also see the Pike and Georgiou-focussed spin-offs? God knows! It’s all up in the air! And these are only the things that we know or can speculate a little bit about! But that’s what makes it so exciting.

Well, that’s it for now. As I write this, what can only be called a mob of white supremacist terrorists – idiot insurrectionists, if you will – have stormed the US Capitol. Truly terrifying scenes, given the added worry of the Twat in Chief using the crisis as some phony excuse to cling on to power. I have faith that it’ll be resolved, short-term, and that democracy – capital-D Democracy – will endure, for now. But it just goes to show how volatile everything is. The kids are being homeschooled again. London’s hospitals are teetering on the brink. There’s gunfire in the Senate. But the first Black Senator just got elected in Georgia. My wife’s playing Ooblets. Somewhere it’s sunny, somewhere else a kid’s catching snowflakes, and somewhere else again some lucky sod is getting to watch Nine to Five for the first time ever. Things are scary and often crap but on the whole I think the arc of the universe tilts ever so slightly towards Being Generally Okay.

Take care of yourselves, wear a bloody mask, and here’s to 2021 Being Generally Okay.