The Kidnapping (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 20 - Act My Age

Weeks passed, and yet it seemed as though it had been no time at all. The boys stood backstage huddled together, waiting for the cue to go onstage for one of the biggest shows of their American tour.

Nothing could ever compare to the rush of adrenaline that you get in the initial moments, seconds before walking onto stage in front of thousands upon thousands of people and no matter how many times you do it, you never get used to it.

The noise is indescribable, the sea of people chanting and singing, their voices merging into one as it rises up until you're sure that everyone in the world can hear it.

Harry was still getting used to sharing the experience with the other boys at his side once again.

For years, it had just been him and his band. The nights on the road had often been lonely, sat in the tour bus on his own, normally with a glass of alcohol in his hand and his phone in the other, waiting for a call that he was almost certain would never come.

The nightmares had been getting worse, the only good thing to come out of it was that he seemed to be getting better at hiding them. The less people that see, the less hassle he had to deal with in the waking hours of the day. He tried to ignore the worried glances that he knows the boys threw his way sometimes, focusing instead acutely on the task at hand and making sure that his mind was always occupied, not a trace of the memories haunting him could be found on his face, even when the flashbacks took over.

He knew that it was a common side effect of PTSD but decided not to mention it to anyone.
Normally, It was just little things... Like how he could be making a drink one second and then it was as if he'd fallen asleep, waking in a completely different location with broken shards of memory coming back to him in scattered fragments.
Often, the only evidence that something happened was on his clothes, but he tried to ignore the fact that something must've happened in one of his flashbacks, bad enough, to make him piss himself.

They would go away soon - That's what he told himself.

He was doing something he loved, something he always would love, and it was helping. Music was like therapy to him, either that or a drug. When he would feel himself starting to get anxious, his knee bouncing uncontrollably, or when he'd rock back and forth without any relief, he'd find his guitar - he took it everywhere with him - and play. He'd been writing a lot recently, enough so that he now had roughly 10 completed song that he would eventually show the boys.

There was one in particular that was very personal to him, written right after the break, and it explained everything. The way he'd felt after his friends had left him, choosing to side with Louis, when he was at his worst. It was about how they hadn't been there for him when he'd needed them or the way they'd pretended they were nothing to him, as if they didn't miss the 1D days and how they'd showed their true colours after the split.
He'd gone to other countries, needing a change in setting, but being the other side of the world hadn't stopped the ache of missing them all. Especially Louis.

He'd turned to drinking soon after, some light drugs while doing his second album, but he always messed up and he knew he couldn't be the person that everyone needed him to be.

But, most of all, it was about Louis, about how he heard about him, how he saw him everywhere he went. Not in person, but in things he did, in the places they'd been. In a way, it was almost worse. Being in London had become physically painful. Knowing the amount of times they'd hidden in plain site, walking its streets and exploring the city together. It had been their home, but Louis had said it himself: They couldn't be together and Harry would never be the same because of it.

He was dragged back to reality by Louis standing on his tip toes and kissing him softly on the cheek.

"It's showtime baby." He whispered against his skin. Harry turned abruptly, wrapping him into a tight hug. He felt the smaller boy relax against him and sighed.