Red Volkswagen || h.s.

this is me trying

ok. so. if it wasn't indicative in the last chapter, we're hitting a bit of a rough patch in the story...but, not all is lost. yes, the next chunk of chapters will be particularly depressing, but they're gonna go fast and it'll be over before you know it.

maybe.

just trust me. promise!

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i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

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HARRY'S POV

Everything is hazy.

My head, mostly.

The headache first set in this morning when my phone was blaring an hour before I was supposed to be awake. It was a wake up call, so apparently they changed the time on us and chose to not give us a heads up beforehand.

I dragged myself out of bed and left, barely awake at all. Brooke didn't even wake up either, which I was glad about because she needed the rest. A few hours later we were doing soundcheck. I didn't feel good then either but the burst of energy helped a little bit, but it went right back down when we were done.

I wanted to go back to the hotel and nap and see Brooke because I hadn't even spoken to her at that point yet, but we were thrown into a writing session so that obviously didn't happen. I should've expected it, really, because those kinds of surprises always come at the worst times possible.

It's been a rough two days.

Two days ago in Houston when Brooklyn skipped the show was probably one of the worst I've ever performed, ever. I had a heated argument with Brian, a manager, earlier that day and it pissed me off to no end. Sadly, I pathetically let it get to me and affect how I spoke to Brooke just minutes later and I regret it so much. I know she said it was understandable, but it still eats me up that I let Brian get in my head like that. He was just being an asshole, like always, trying to dictate my every move, and I wasn't having it. He's extra pissy ever since my infamous Instagram post.

We drove here– New Orleans, Louisiana– yesterday morning at the ass crack of dawn and went right into a meeting about the first single for the next album and the music video for it. I didn't listen or speak once. Then we got roped into finishing layering the vocals for another song and that trailed into writing another song that would 'balance out the album' and before I knew it I was dozing off while I was still in my regular day clothes. I think I remember Brooklyn changing out my shirt or something like that, I'm not sure.

After the abrupt end to my mediocre sleep this morning, it was straight to a fitting for god knows what–  I wasn't paying attention– and then to soundcheck, which took an hour longer than it should've because Liam's microphone was straight-up broken and they had to figure out what was going on with it while we all waited around.

It's not just me who's exhausted, trust me– the rest of the guys look just as dead as I do up close. Thank god these arenas are massive and no one can see our faces up close. Sure, there's screens, but those aren't nearly as bad as looking in the mirror like I am right now.

My hands are gripping the sides of the sink with all their strength, holding me up from falling on this tiled floor and falling asleep. I'm the only one in this bathroom and I hope it stays that way.