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HARRY STYLES

SIX MONTHS BEFORE THE PASSING OF ZAYN MALIK

AGE 14

I calmly shut the door, sighing to the noise that comes with it.

The house is so quiet.

I get greeted with a black and white cat brushing against my ankle. Patch.

Usally Patch is with Gemma. I'm surprised he even knows that I exist.

Despite not seeing him , he's still our cat. I do love Patch.

I turn to the living room, it's eery how quiet it is. I crack open the door and mums laying there, her hair over her face, sleeping. A bottle of Jack Danial's is spilled on the woods but I'm just happy everything is peaceful.

I just came back from this birthday thing with my friends. For a task, we have to go to Paris so we'll celebrate there. On the way back I crossed paths with Elliot Miller. I hate him. He used unnecessary insults to make me do things. He can't go to Paris with us. He wants to burn down the hospital too but he just can't.

He said he'd burn Zayn instead, but I wouldn't let him. Zayn did nothing wrong. So instead he said he'd hurt my family.

I close the living room door and head to the kitchen and I stop when I see Gemma there- that explains why Patch is down here too. I never really see gemma. Honestly, I'm glad she's not dead, I wouldn't be surprised with how often she's not around. Then again, I leave in the morning and don't come back until late at night, like today.

"Hi." I say and she returns it before sipping her glass of water. "Where's dad?" I ask, noticing his absence.

"I don't know. Probably with Linda." We've kinda established that he probably has an affair with someone. We don't know who it is but it's probably true.

"Linda who?"

"Linda Woods." She says, placing the glass down so gently into the sink. One loud crash and the shouting comes running through.

Linds is the leader of the bakery side. My mum is modelling and my dad is bakery and me, I have no clue. They always try and persuade me but honestly, I don't really want to be in any of them.

"Doesn't she have a kid to look after?" I ask. If I remember correctly she has a 13 year old daughter. Maybe 14.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"No, no, she does. " I say. "Dad was persuading again and I bumped into her." I remember the slight shock on her face as she looked up at me, her lips parted. I tried to lighten her mood by asking if I'm in her way but it didn't help. She apologised and ran.

"What's her name?"

"Hazel, I think. I'm not sure." I say and she nods.

"Never knew."

I nod, and I hear little footsteps from upstairs.

"Of course you wouldn't. She is supposed to be kept a secre-"

"Come on harry, we want to say goodnight to you!" Zayn shouts from the top of the stairs, 'we' referring to his lion teddy.

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