I Bullied Harry Styles? *Narry Storan* Complete

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Sorry for it being so short! I’ll make the other chapters longer I promise! Thank you for reading by the way!

 

Harry’s POV

Around five years ago, walking around Holmes Chapel High School petrified me. I would spend my school days living in constant fear of the people surrounding me. I spent many hours of the day hoping to god that a certain boy wouldn’t spot me within the crowds. I just hoped I could make it through the day without getting abused from the popular Irish boy.

I always would though.

He knew what he was doing, he never abused me physically. That would make it easy for him to get caught, no, he did the damage mentally.

His words left permanent scars on my damaged heart, causing me to leave high school being terrified of everyone and alone.

He scared off the friends that I could have had, threating them the same way he did to me. They finally couldn’t take his harsh words and left me once again alone to defend myself from the verbal abuse.

Each word hurt me more than any punch or kick ever could do.  They broke my heart, causing me to begin to believe the hate and torment which left his pink lips on a daily basis.

I couldn’t stop it though could I? Who was I supposed to tell? My dad left when I was four and my mum was an alcoholic with a couple of doses of Cocaine on the side.

I basically had no one.

I would hide in the boy’s toilets at break and lunch times or camp out in the music or art rooms when we had free periods or people were in the toilets. Even when I was in the safety of a teacher or adult I still couldn’t feel safe, I knew that if I let my guard down for a few moments then he would attack like an angry puma attacking a deer.

It wasn’t that the boy himself terrified me, it was his opinions and remarks that I hated.  His opinions were more like facts though, he would call me names such as ‘faggot’ and ‘gay boy’ or ‘queer’ which at the time they didn’t know that. They just assumed that since I kept my uniform neat or I had a shoulder bag rather than a backpack.

Their words were actually true though, I’m proudly homosexual. Or in other words I’m gay. It doesn’t faze me in the slightest that I like the same sex, in fact I adore it. I’m proud of it.

I know what you’re thinking, why were you so upset if the things they said were true? It’s because they assumed that without knowing me, they had never had a conversation with me that didn’t end with me running from the room with salty moisture running down my flushed cheeks. They judged me without even getting to know me.

 Five years later, I had left Cheshire and the past that haunted me like the ghost in Paranormal Activity and moved to London to start my life again.

My hair had become a darker shade of chestnut brown, now curly and long, flopping over my forehead every time I moved rather than straight and neatly combed back. My green eyes had more of a sparkle to them than they did years ago. I had grown at least six inches since I was sixteen. My long legs carried muscles that I had earned through taking part in kickboxing within the past few months; my coach insists that I’m a natural. I toned up my chest, losing any puppy fat that I previously had which was now hard muscle.

Let’s just say that I had changed a lot since high school. Even that was an understatement.

I’m not the scrawny kid I was back in school, I kick box and work out more and work part time in Starbucks. It isn’t the ideal job but it pays for my sport memberships and my apartment and it puts food on the table for me.

I was quite happy with how my life was turning out; the only problem I suffered from was loneliness. Even though my confidence was growing, I would still shit myself and chicken out of talking to a man my age. I lived in fear of being rejected.

Other than that I was happy. I actually loved my job working in Starbucks since I got free food and discounts on Frappuccinos and coffee.

My life was fine and dandy until around mid-day on a cold February afternoon and he walked through the doors of the green themed coffee shop and ordered a Cookie crumble mocha.

The boy who I despised more than anyone else I knew. The boy that managed to make my school years hell at his own enjoyment. The boy who once terrorised me.

He stood meters in front of me.  It was as if time had stopped and my feet were super glued to the floor. I felt like I couldn’t move and I began to panic as he walked closer to the counter.

“Can I have a Cookie crumble mocha please?” He ordered without looking up at me, fumbling around in his back pocket for a couple of coins.

“Y-Yes”  I stuttered nervously before walking over to the machine and making the irish man his drink.

I walked over to his table where he was sitting, scrolling through his Twitter on his Iphone with his back to me.

“H-Here you go” I passed him the drink in exchange for the money.

“Keep the change gorgeous” He winked at me, leaving me stunned and confused.

What just happened?