Eight

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TW: self harm, mention of death

TW: self harm, mention of death

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Saturday
October 15, 2022
5:00 pm

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I have been dreading this day all week. The anniversary. Ten years ago today, I experienced the worst trauma of my life and, of course, I have to spend the whole day with Harry.

Lucas, Louis, Elijah, and Niall are all at the LA tattoo convention. I guess Harry wasn't interested in going so it's just me and him.

So far it hasn't been too bad but, to be fair, Harry hasn't said a single thing to me. Instead of asking him questions, I've just been texting Louis. I really hope he isn't annoyed with me for it, but he's seen how Harry treats me so I'm sure he understands.

It's been pretty slow since everyone is at the convention, so I haven't really had a lot of questions anyway.

I've spent the majority of the day sitting at the desk at the front of the shop because Harry has been in the back room, except for when his client was here. His three o'clock cancelled so we've mostly been sitting in silence for the last two hours, aside from the phone ringing a few times.

I'm starting to get really hungry though, and the sandwich I brought for lunch is in the fridge in the storage room. Meaning I have to go through the back room to get to it, which involves having to be around Harry, so I've been putting it off for as long as I can.

When I decide I can't wait any longer, I sigh heavily and stand up to make my way to the back. The door is closed, so I take a deep breath before slowly opening it.

I stop dead in my tracks when I look up and see Harry hunched over the counter, a line of white powder in front of him and a rolled up dollar bill held up to his nose, sniffing loudly.

He's doing drugs at work right now.

I've done coke a few times before, and I hated it, and I smoke weed every once in awhile. Never in my life, though, has doing drugs at work ever crossed my mind.

He pulls back from where the white line used to be and takes a deep breath, coughing slightly. When he finally opens his eyes, he notices me standing in the corner and swiftly turns his head to face me.

In seconds, I see the color in his eyes go dark. I can't tell if it's from the drugs or anger, but either way I'm terrified.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He screams at me, standing up so quickly that the rolling chair he was sitting on goes flying into the wall behind him.

"I- I uh," is all I can get out before he takes a step towards me, making my blood run cold and the words catch in my throat.

"Are you bloody stupid?!" He spits. His face is red with rage. As he slowly gets closer I can see a drip of blood coming from his right nostril, he doesn't seem to notice, though. "I asked you a question!"

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