Chapter 22

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24 months--

Harry-

My hands started to shake. My palms were sweaty.

My eyes were staring at the television. Watching as the love of my life walked down a red carpet with some punk ass wank stain.

She looked fucking incredible.

She looked too good to be some fuck knuckles arm candy.

Zayn plopped on the couch next to me and let out a low whistle. "Shit.... Cross finally grew the bullocks to ask her out."

My gaze narrowed. "Dickhead's name is Cross?"

Zayn nodded. "Yeah. Client of mine. He's in that band with Sterling..."

The one that she went on tour with... The douche poodle she used to date. The one that had become one of my regular clients.

He was a decent guy. One of my favorite clients. I still hated that he'd dated her.

My scowl had Zayn chuckling. Until I turned to look at him. The smile was wiped clean off his face. "Shit man... You're not okay are you?"

I sighed. Running both hands through my hair. "No. I'm not fucking okay. The love of my life is on a fucking date, with a fucking Rockstar..." I trailed off before my voice could break. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a sensitive guy. I fucking cry, but I'm not trying to break down in tears over seeing my ex girlfriend smiling with someone else. "How the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?"

Zayn sighs. "Mate... You don't have to compete."

A humorless laugh sits like ash on my tongue. He's right. I don't have to compete. But I want to.

---
29 months-

Will-

It's strange how things can change.

I'm staring down at a magazine looking at my face smiling back at me. B's arms are wrapped around my shoulders, his handsome face is just next to mine. A smirk on his lips.

The headline reads PHOTOGRAPHY'S NEXT ANNIE LEIBOVITZ LINKED TO POP-ROCK'S BAD BOY BRENDON CROSS.

Was I the next Annie Leibovitz? She was one of my idols. Her photographs were incredible.

Being friends with Brendon had opened up so many doors for me.

But I was missing my roots. I wanted to go home. I hadn't been back in so long, that I knew everything would be different.

A part of me wondered if I should just stay away. I was now in every sense of the word a nomad. I didn't have a true home.

I hadn't been back to the apartment since I finished signing the papers on the building a year ago. Even then I'd only stayed two nights and told no one I was there.

A part of me really wants to go home. Another part of me thinks that maybe I don't belong there anymore.

---

Will-

48 Months--

I pick up my cell phone and swipe answer. "This is Will."

"Hey, I'm outside the airport."

"Just get in the pickup lane. I only have a carry on, I'll be right out."

"Got it."

I hang up and start to walk. I hate this airport. It takes me 20 minutes just to get out of the fucking place. The only airport worse than this one is Dallas Fort Worth. That place is like a fucking mall within a mall within an airport. I guess I can't say that they are the worst airports. Denver is a nightmare. Beijing is a nightmare too. Heathrow is ridiculous. Maybe I'm just not one for massive airports. It annoys me that they make a place that large and then expect you to make a flight when the terminal is across the country.

I notice Nina's car in the pick up lane.

A smile breaks out on her face when she sees me. I watch as she throws open the driver door and flings herself over the hood of her car to get to me. "Bitch! You look good!"

She wraps me up in her arms and I can't lie. I've missed the fuck out of her.

I laugh. "You do too."

She does. She looks incredible. Her long hair is gone. Replaced with a messy pixie cut that's sticking out all over. It's a lovely lavender color that brings out the beautiful brown of her eyes. She looks like Tinkerbell's evil twin and I'm living for it.

"Ready to head to the shop?" She asks as she tosses my bags into the trunk of her car.

"Nina, I just got off an eleven hour flight. I'm fucking exhausted." I don't want to go to the shop. I'm not ready.

"The boys miss you." Nina pulls the guilt trip card.

"Ugh fine." I climb into the passenger seat and clip my seatbelt into place.

"So how was Tahiti?" She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Amazing. You should come with me next time." I smile at her. "Beaches were beautiful. The water was so clear... The people are gorgeous...You'd love it.

She nods. Then asks the one question I was hoping to avoid. "How long are you back for?"

"A few weeks. Ink wants a full editorial. Featuring the boys...I'm lucky they like me over there. Other photographers are cheaper."

She laughs. "They aren't as good as you though babe." She knows I'm deflecting. She is also completely full of shit. I just haven't figured out what about yet.

She drives towards the shop. Twisting her hands on the steering wheel. She's acting weird. "What's going on?"

"Nothing just excited you're here. You're always jetting off."

"Nina I've known you since we were in diapers. You're a shit liar. Always have been. Spill."

She avoided my question the whole drive to the shop. Talking about anything and everything other than what I've asked her to.

She pulls her car up to the front parking lot and shuts off the engine. I'm half tempted to make a fucking run for it.

"Don't even think about it you skeevie bitch. We haven't seen you in almost four fucking years."

Guilt. It's a son of a bitch, and it hits me square in the stomach. Settling like a rock. Weighing me down. Making me regret being away for so long.

I'm a giant ball-sack. I didn't want to come home because everything reminded me of him. I'm weak and flappable.

I've missed my fucking friends more than I care to admit. Nina, Sasha, Dom, Nico. I missed the boys. Even my brother. I missed my dad.

But missing them isn't the same as missing him. Missing them hurts. But I know that hurt will go away when I see them again. Missing him isn't like that.

Missing him is bitter, jaded, angry, and harsh. Missing him won't go away if I see him again. Missing him consumes me.

So I stayed the fuck away. Because it was God damn easier.

Because missing him doesn't just fucking hurt. It kills me.

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