Rockstar- H.S.

chapter ten

Roxanne's POV:

Enraged. Aggressive. Scary. Possessed.
All words I would use to describe Harry the moment he attacked Shea. I didn't know how to react. No one did. It was like he became a different person. His face disappeared from the goofy, almost sweet, Harry I was dancing with moments prior into, well, I'm not sure. It was as though his eyes shifted into someone else. Those were the same eyes I was faced with the night we met. And the night he freaked out at me in the car.

After Shea started spouting hateful things at me, it's like Harry couldn't keep his composure. It all happened in slow motion. He leaped for Shea before he even had time to react (it doesn't help he was pretty intoxicated) and the last thing I saw before Harry smashed him into the coffee table was the terror in Shea's eyes.

He slammed Shea right onto the glass coffee table and smashed it to pieces. Everyone screamed and jumped back as Harry began punching him in the face. Over and over and over.

No one could even get in to stop him because he threw them off like a wild bear when they touched him.

He had murder in his eyes.

No one can convince me otherwise. I couldn't take it any longer. No one was getting through to Harry. I yelled and yelled until my voice went sore, but he was in another world. Finally, I grabbed a vase off of a nearby table and did the only thing I could think to do to end it.

I smashed it over Harry's head.

It knocked him out.

I'll be honest, I didn't even care about Harry in that moment. All I cared about was making sure Shea was alive. Sure I greatly dislike him, but I don't wish him dead, especially not like that.

I can't get his bloody face out of my head. It was disturbing. Somehow, he was still somewhat coherent as I sat in the pile of glass holding his head up and repeating his name, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. The last thing he said before he passed out was

'I'm so sorry Rox."

And then he was out. I thought he was dead at first, but thank God he wasn't. Somebody had called 911 and I sat holding Shea until the ambulance got there.

When they got there Harry began waking up and the moment he realized what was going on he dipped. They were trying to help him and explain he needed to go to the hospital, but all the bastard cared about was getting in trouble I guess.

Now I'm sitting in the hospital cafeteria rethinking all the decisions I've made in the past couple of weeks.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into and how the fuck am I going to get out of it.

Grant has already been blowing up my phone, contacting me every way he knows how. Texts, phone calls, Instagram DMs, emails. I haven't responded to him, and I don't plan to until I make sure Shea is ok. He really doesn't have anyone. He doesn't speak to his parents, and even if he did, they live in Florida and I highly doubt they would care enough to make a trip here. All of his friends are just party buddies, they don't actually care about his well-being.

And of course, I have not heard anything from Harry, and I hope I don't. The thought of having to continue on this charade and even go on tour with him makes me physically ill.

I'm at a crossroads right now. I know I signed the contract and I have to follow through. But what if I don't. What if I find a way out. Maybe I can talk things out with Grant and he will understand. If that doesn't work I could resort to involving lawyers or even blackmail. I could never go as low as to blackmail someone though. Even if that someone happens to be Harry.