By Your Side » Harry Styles [ON HOLD]

Crash

She's not coming back. She was serious about leaving. It hurt to even think about it.

I debated on calling her so many times, I've fiddled with the phone in my hands. My finger always hovered over her name in the contacts, but I quickly threw the device aside every time.

She did say she wouldn't pick up, so what's the point? To humiliate myself by leaving a message? My overgrown pride would never allow that.

But the only chance that anything would change with the situation, is if I do something about it. I had to do something.

She's stated her opinion and if I don't do anything about, she's going to move out.

Great job Harry. Why don't you just shoot yourself now?

I hit the side of my head, trying to get the voice out. That voice was doing no one any good. It's this constant debate with myself.

For the millionth time this day I ran my hands through my hair, I swear it's all going to be gone by the end of the day if I keep this up. When I meant I had to do something, this is what I end up doing.

"C'mon Harry, grow a pair and call her." I said to myself. "You can do this, fix it." I encouraged, reaching for my cellphone once.

I dialed the all to familiar cellphone number; it rang 4 times before going to her voicemail, "Hi this is Beatrice!" her chirpy voice stated. "Sorry I can't come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible-"

"She probably won't!" I heard a male voice yell.

"Harry's right, I probably won-"

"Beeeeeeeeeeeep!" the tone interrupted.

Sighing I lowered my phone, hanging up in the process. I had totally forgot about that answering machine tape.

Throwing my phone across the room I screamed out in anger once again. I started throwing random objects around, not caring about the mess I was making -I just needed a way to express this anger- when a faint ringing noise was heard.

I followed the noise and saw it was coming from my now screen cracked phone. Since it was an unknown number I decided to let it be. Some creepy stalker fan was the last thing I needed right now.

I decided to call another very familiar number to get me out.

"Liam, I need a distraction, do you want to go to that new bar?"

"What's up mate." he asked through the phone. "I thought you were with Bea."

"I was, but something happened. I just really need a distraction." I said desperately.

"Ok." He said a little uncertainly. "I'll pick you up in 5." he said just before hanging up.

When he came, I silentlly climbed into his car, staring straight ahead. Not responding to any of the questions that he was asking me. I just didn't find the need to answer: maybe because my mouth was plainly sawdust and I didn't want to talk about it.

I simply stared out the window, trying to calm my racing mind. Thankfully, the alcohol would help with that in a little bit. Hopefully.

Getting downtown was a little harder than we would have thought, due to a rubberneck traffic jam. There had been a bus accident and everyone wanted to see what was going on -therefore slowing down, and starting a traffic jam. Looking over at the crash I saw, broken bus pieces, ambulances and bloody bodies.

All the chaos, screams, blaring horns and sirens and even viewing all that blood, made me dizzy. Alcohol would have been the best thing right now, that would make me feel better.

Call me selfish but I couldn't find myself to care about the people involved in the accident or the family member or close friends that might be given the bad news. All I cared about were my problems. They seemed big. They were big.

When the jam finally cleared, we arrived at the almost empty bar (not many people come in the middle of the day on a weekday) and ordered the strongest drink they served. Some weird tequila.

"So what's your deal?" Liam asked from the stool beside me. "You're supposed to be with Bea, but instead you're here, at a bar, trying to get drunk."

"We had a fight." I simply said, taking a swig of the alcohol that burned the back of my throat but ended up relieving my anger.

"So you're getting drunk?" he mused.

"I need a break, all this hurts my head." I said, taking another swig at my drink. I was drinking like there was no tomorrow, but I didn't care.

"It's not going to hurt as much as the hangover you're going to get if you keep drinking like that."

"Want some?" I asked, ignoring his precaution, shoving the glass in his face.

"Nope, I'm your designated driver," he reasoned, pushing it away with disgust.

Downing drink after until I heard a high pitched ringing noise but I didn't let it bother me. "Harry, your phone is ringing." Liam informed.

With a groan I pulled out my cracked phone and saw that it was the same unknown number as before. How many times would they try to call? "You take it." I said, shoving my phone at his face. He wore an annoyed look on his face but agreed nevertheless.

"Hello." I heard him say.

Suddenly his face fell, obviously from what the person on the on the other side had said. "Okay, we'll be there as soon as we can." He said, then hung up.

"What happened?"

"B-Bea's was involved in th-the bus accident." he stuttered.

Never in my entire life have I ever sobered up that fast.

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Picture on the side of a very drunk looking Harreh XD!!!

Oh my flipping flackin goodness what is happening O.O???

Is she going to be okay? I don't even know anymore.

Dedication to @redblacklady for the amazing cover :D

Stay tuned and...

νσммєηт мє ρℓєαѕє <3