Tilt ∞ [Harry Styles]

Chapter 1 ❥ Misery

A/N: And the gayness starts..

Chapter 1 ❥ Miserable 

Alyssa's POV *

   The abnormal habit of mine was always grabbing onto the hem of my shirt. Not only was I grabbing it, but I was clearly fist it in attempt to wake me up from this nightmare. My blood boiling, I was clearly in that same numb state that I've been for quite a while now. How dare I be dragged from one country to another. The thought of leaving all my friends here was heart breaking. Moving to London wasn't my intention, it was my mother's. I haven't been there for a long time; a seriously really long time. I constantly tugged at the handles of my luggage, still very irrational about the whole thing about leaving everyone. I practically let the whole place grow on me– it was that serious.

   My life is here. Everything that ever made me happy– all here. Whatever made my mom happy, made me miserable. I don't even see a problem in just staying here when my mom could do whatever the hell she pleases considering I sure can take care of myself. The situation obviously indicates how unwell I take these situations. I couldn't drive, let alone take care of myself so it seems.

   I lived in London for four years with an old best friend I haven't even talked to since forever, note the exaggeration. He may be on tour– or not– with the others at God knows where. I haven't spoken to him for a year already, and it's truly the saddest thing.

   "Alyssa, pack your last carry-on's to the car, It's almost time to go!" My mom called from downstairs. She kept reminding me which frustrated me a whole lot. It always crashed down the walls of my tranquility of a day on how much I'm gonna miss this place and it's just ridiculous.

   "Alright!" I blared. Sometimes my mom doesn't even notice how miserable I was. I was hoping she would actually have a talk with me at least trying to make me feel better, but of course not. Apparently, someone has turned off the reassuring mom she was before. I hardly miss Stacey, my sister and I know sure as hell she doesn't miss me either or any of us f•cking outcast.

   I took a look at my house where all the memories were formed. Things have really changed the past few years and it was so abnormal. One last glance at the house before hopping into my mom's Chrysler.

   I made sure to text all of my friends. I'd be nothing without them surely, and only four of them were the best. Pretty much everyone else marks the fake ones since they only befriend me because of my friendship with the boys I haven't even spoken to for a while.

   'Miss you already!' and text tears blowing up my phone. The longer I thought about it, the more emotional it gets. Sarah, please save me from this hell hole.

   She was clearly like another me. Thinking of all those times we actually acted ourselves in public. Outgoing, crazy, just being ourselves. To others, it wasn't a bad thing to say somebody was another version of me. It's quite odd how every girl at my school takes it as a compliment.

   I was considered a 'popular' kid. I guess I'm used to it, but im not like those snobby 'I own the school, get out of my face' kinda gal. The school I go to– used to go to– was an all girl school. Not exactly high school, or middle school but it was just a school. Basically, it's a college that I have no thought of returning to. So mostly every desperate girl on that campus have all interest in boys. I was pretty much the only one with a guy best friend that everyone knew. He's incredibly famous and everyday he's making me proud– except for the fact that he hasn't texted, called, or Face-timed me for ages. What fun, note the sarcasm.