Fifty Shades of Him (h.s. au)

XIX

Harry POV

From the bottom, rising to the top, my life took a spiral turn. There is a description I have written a thousand times that I have threatened to publish, but I hesitate in my defiance. I never go through with it; finding my story much too depressing.

My father wasn't a figure to follow after and I lost myself. In my teen years, I did drugs and ran away from my problems through ever drag of a joint. There was no one to stop me, my mother just a small roadblock.

There was no stopping me from anything, my friends and I doing everything together: tattoos, piercings, the drugs, and the partying. That was until my father left me to fend for myself. He gave me the job to target anyone who was targeting him; my life on the line every time I went out with him. He gave me no choice when it came to being beat up due to my stronger force. Custody was just another home to me. I was in prison every other weekend because of him and I left in the morning on Sundays, going to a friends' house so I didn't have to face my mother. The drugs continued and I eventually over did them, going to rehab and getting out a few months later.

Then I met Violet. I smoked with her and had sex with her until we could barely breathe. It was what my thoughts of love were. God, I was in love with her. Or I was in love with the thought of love. Someone wanted me as much as I wanted them, but she always was off. She'd hint that she wasn't committed to me but me being the lost boy I was, I didn't care. I loved her too much.

She did heroin with me. She gave me my doses and I gave her some; we were invincible when on that drug. We stole from stores, we vandalized people's houses, and we never got caught. My mum hated her and everything she lived for because she wasn't innocent. My mother wanted me pure and anyone I dated to be pure. That was the opposite of my lifestyle. Innocence was out the window for me.

The break-up was horrific and I broke the windows in our house and nearly overdosed on drugs. I went to the hospital again and found out one of my cousins I did the drugs with died from it. It set me straight. I left home after the funeral and after the announcement of my mother's pregnancy, needing to go away. After I enrolled into NYU, I felt bored, too smart for the class. I knew everything and I started to buy buildings. The drug deals gave me good money so I started my own business, hitting the market just right.

The six years it took to build my business were the most worthwhile years of my life. I had one sexual relation a year to try and force the nightmares of Violet out of my mind. The hurt she caused me came out in my rough ways of bed. It was my only sense of release.

The house I bought when I was twenty two was large enough for a family of twelve, but it was comfortable and away from everything. I didn't want to be known for the media is a bunch of lies. There was no need for recognition because recognition shows arrogance.

As I sit at my desk, the thought invades my mind. What if I did the wrong thing? Am I really who I want to be? My eyes close as I contemplate, my hand grabbing my phone. I open my e-mail and respond to Greystone, his building continuing to thrive since I bought it.

There is a soft melody playing through the house, my stereo playing music from Debussy. It's my favorite artist since I danced that night. The night that made me open up in a way no one has ever been able to do.

My lips smile and I begin typing the rewrite of my writer's manuscript. The thoughts of a certain blue-eyed girl fill my mind as I read the story of compassion and hope, my eyes glossed over with a sense of place.

The dark sky causes the screen to glow, my fingers running against my chin. My fingers type in a sentence and I send it to my editor, shutting my computer off and walking down the hall to my bedroom. The sky is the best view in my room; the room added on after I bought the house. No one ever entered this room other than me; no one until her.