ASSUMPTIONS [H.S.]

chapter 54

Harry Styles

I've always hated being alone. 

I don't think there's a particular reason for it. Maybe growing up in a loving family has got something to do with it or simply being on stage every other night has changed my perspective.

Over time when touring, I've realized the aftershow always hits me twice as hard as it would anyone else — I've figured the sudden loneliness after being in a room full of hundreds of people is especially heavy to me.

I can't stand being all alone.

Maybe that's why I let my team book so many shows on this tour. It's a complex thing, really, because I'm supposed to go on the next leg of the tour tomorrow already, and I can't explain the confusion I'm currently going through.

"Could you drop me off by the bridge? I'd like to be alone for a little." Was the only thing Amber asked for as I carefully steered the white Mercedes back from the police station.

My initial reaction was to oppose her wish right away since the last time I left her alone led to unfortunate events. It's a bit funny because even though Nate's arrested, I'm still worrying every second.

Ultimately, I didn't want to fight her, so I let her go.
Even got a tiny smile out of her as she climbed out of the car to go sit in our special spot.

She enjoys being alone.

Maybe that's the biggest difference between us.

She especially loves being alone when she's tired. Maybe it's because she was used to loneliness for so long, that it slowly became her comfort place. I ache for people like her.

Back in my apartment, I'm all alone again. Truth be told, I don't know what to do with myself in all this silence.

What is a person even supposed to do with nobody around?

The only action that comes to mind as I wonder what could I possibly do to ease the restlessness, is to rush into my kitchen.

For a little while, I simply stare at the kitchen cupboards which I don't often get round to using.

In fifteen seconds, I've messed up my whole drawer searching for a black trash bag. I wonder if I should take one or two, but then decide to bring the whole roll with me.

I don't know what exactly overtakes me. It's a mix between anger, frustration, helplessness, worry, and some strange urge to clean.

Taking 5 steps forward, I enter my small pantry. I scan the shelves up and down stacked with candy and other sweetmeats thriving in processed sugar.

The more I stare at the food items, the brighter I see the label 'deadly' attached to each of them in my mind.

A pack of PopTarts is the first one to meet the trash bag.

For a moment, I chuckle under my breath at the idiotic thing to do, but as despair fills my body deeper and deeper, I don't care about how this may look like.

WarHeads, Reese's snacks, and Hershey's are next to go.

With no further thought, I sweep a shelf clean, pouring every pack of Skittles, double-stuffed Oreos, PopRocks, gummy bears, and almost every other brand of candy you could imagine.

To be fair, I don't quite remember buying that many items of the same thing. I do recall being at the grocery shop, worrying if the amount was too little, and we were going to run out of candy too quickly.

Now that I think of it, I never realized I actually bought 9 packs of SourPatch Kids, 12 of every flavor of KitKat bars they had, and 16 boxes of Nerds.