Chapter 14: I Get the Feeling that You'll Never Need Me Again

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Author's Note: Time for Harry to fight for his life! Please leave some love, constructive criticism, etc. Or just comment here and say hey! :)

Chapter 14: I Get the Feeling that You'll Never Need Me Again

Harry tried on his fifth suit of the day, shaking his head with self-loathing at his reflection in the mirror. The Billboard Music Awards were in less than four hours, and he had no idea what he was going to wear.

Two months had gone by since Harry stumbled out of Scott's house, looking for the pieces of his shattered heart on the front walkway as he left. The pain was excruciating, at first. It then shifted to a shooting pain, and eventually it was just a dull throb. Annoying and painful, but tolerable.

He had texted him a few times... of that, he was ashamed. Scott deserved so much more. He looked down at his phone, noting the string of blue speech bubbles with no replies.

Harry (3/5/20): Can I call you?

Harry (3/14/20): I miss you.

Harry (3/20/20): I think I left something at your house.

Harry (3/21/20): I was hoping you would ask, "what?" to which I would reply, "My heart."

Harry (4/8/20): I fukign lvoe u.

Harry (4/9/20): Sorry... rough night last night. Had a few too many.

Then, they stopped. That last one was nearly a month ago.

He settled on a baby blue suit. He teared up as he thought of the pair of eyes it resembled. He didn't even know why he cared about the outfit. He was feeling awfully numb, lately.

He climbed out of the limo, alone. Could he have brought a date? Sure. Did he want to? Not particularly. At least he knew that Niall was around here, somewhere.

He had also checked to make sure that Pentatonix wasn't nominated. They weren't. Somehow, this made Harry both relieved and overcome with sadness at the same time.

If one more interviewer asked about Scott, he was going to blow his own brains out and make sure that his grey matter ended up all over them. So far, so good, as far as this event was concerned. Maybe it was officially considered to be old news.

He made eye contact with some all-to-familiar pretty brown eyes as he was stopped for a photo.

Kendall Jenner.

Fuck Kendall Jenner.

And before he knew it, she was inches from him. He couldn't read her expression.

"Harry, I'm so sorry."

Her voice was genuine, and yet Harry hated her no less.

"You kind of ruined the best thing I've had in a long time." It came out sounding stern. He tried not to cry right here on this red carpet.

"I was so drunk, H... I sobered up immediately when I saw how upset you were... but it was too late. I wish I could tell you what I was thinking..." she reached out to touch his elbow, and he pulled it away, gently.

"Are you looking for more photos with me?" gesturing to the cameras around them.

"Harry... I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry. That's it. If there's anything I can do..."

"Can you turn back time?" His eyes were narrow. He had to look away from her before he lost it.

Standing over her shoulder, on the other side of the carpet... not fifty feet from them... Scott was smirking coldly at him.

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