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16. Break My Heart

16. Break My Heart

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

For God's sake, Scott. How could you be so fucking stupid?

NO. No tears. Stop, right now.

He made a fool of you. Again.

No, he really didn't. You did a great job of that on your own.

"Scott... wait," the voice called from behind him. He placed his hands in his pockets, picking up his pace as he walked down the sidewalk, but a hand found his elbow, anyway, pulling him to make eye contact with the same man from whom he had been running.

"You can't walk around this city alone in the middle of the night, Scott. God..." Harry started, as his bodyguard came up behind them. "What if you were recognized?"

"Let me go," Scott warned, quietly. He was thankful that his tears hadn't fallen, and that he was able to suck them back in. They were replaced quite quickly with anger towards the man in front of him.

"You misunderstood..." Harry pleaded again, refusing to remove his hand from Scott's arm. "Louis dared me to... but..."

That was all that Scott needed to hear. He ripped his arm from Harry's grasp. "You've had your fun. Let the mouse go now. You've killed it. It's no fun anymore."

"You think I'm playing with you? Really? Still?"

Scott turned back towards him, shocked by the question. "Louis literally just said that you were."

Harry's anger was disproportionate to how Scott was speaking with him. Scott was proud of how calm his own voice was. Harry seemed to be losing his temper, anyway.

"He dared me to make a move, Scott, because he knew that I wanted to!" Harry replied, angrily. The handsome man stepped forward, searching Scott's eyes with his pretty green ones. They were glazed over with alcohol and irritation. "You don't believe me."

"You're right. I don't."

Harry emitted a low growl, and reached his hands up to grip at his own hair. "I can't fucking do this with you. God, you're still just as fucked up as the day I met you, aren't you?"

Scott was rendered speechless at Harry's words, as though he had been punched in the chest.

"I can't fix this! I thought that I could. I was willing to try, but God, you're hopeless! You've gotten not even a little bit better!" Harry gestured up and down Scott's frame with his hand, and Scott had never felt more naked than he did beneath this judgmental gaze. "You let a fucking Instagram model ruin you? God, Scott, call me when you get some of your dignity back."

Harry turned on his heel and walked back towards the club, swaying slightly as he did so. His bodyguard, Drew, stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do. He shot Scott a look of sympathy before running after the person whose safety was his actual job.

The one who matters, Scott pondered.

He watched Harry's retreating back with a blank stare, feeling oddly numb.

A hand clutched his elbow again, and he didn't care if it was someone who was going to hurt him. The numbness was a strange feeling.

"Come on, let me get you home," a familiar voice whispered, turning him back towards the hotel. He allowed his feet to fall into step with the man pulling at him, silently.

Liam.

He wasn't sure how long it had taken to make it back to the hotel, but he allowed himself to be led into Liam's room, and guided to sit at the edge of his bed.