Chapter Text
The photoshoot seemed to drag on for forever. Louis didn't try to get me to talk again, but he still kept shooting me looks as I pretended to text someone.
We were offered some vegetable tray, and Niall eagerly dug in. I wasn't hungry, despite not eating any breakfast, so I let the other boys munch on carrots and celery.
Liam frowned when he noticed that I wasn't eating, but he didn't say anything. For all he knew, I could be stuffed from a gigantic meal this morning. He didn't want to risk me getting angry at him, so he didn't ask.
"Okay, we're ready for group shots?" the photographer said.
We nodded, but I wanted to shake my head and leave already.
I hated group shots. Louis tended to throw himself all over one of us. Sometimes it was me, sometimes it wasn't. Either way hurt.
Today, it was me that he chose.
"Okay, just have fun, don't be serious," she ordered.
Louis smirked and I stumbled as he jumped into my arms.
"Take it quick! Harry's a weakling and he can't hold me for long!" Louis laughed.
I was weak. I had lost a lot of muscle. My arms shook after only a few seconds of holding him and he wasn't heavy. I was scared that I would drop him.
Relief flooded through me when the picture was taken and I could set him down. My arms burned and itched and I realized that I was exhausted.
My head pounded and my mouth was dry.
I shouldn't be this worn out. I was actually breathing hard just from holding him and I was a little dizzy.
Okay, a lot dizzy.
Someone said something. I think we were told to look serious. I tried to make my face cooperate, but I probably looked like a constipated clown.
"Harry? You're really pale, are you alright?"
I think it was Liam who spoke, but it sounded like it was from the end of a tunnel.
"He looks like he might pass out," someone commented.
"Harry?"
"Harry?"
"Harry?"
Everyone needed to shut up. I was perfectly fine.
Then everything went black.
************************************
"Harry, wake up!"
Ugh. I felt like I might vomit and my head hurt like I was getting hit with a hammer.
But I blinked my eyes open anyways.
"Hazza, are you okay? You passed out!" Louis yelped.
I sat up, dazed. The boys surrounded me, looking worried and a few other people who worked for the magazine were hanging around.
"I'm fine," I said, but my voice was shaking.
Niall looked like he was going to cry and Zayn looked worried as well. Liam just looked thoughtful, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
Louis was the closest to me. He cautiously supported my back as I looked around, confused.
Why had I passed out? I had been fine, and all of a sudden everything had just gotten weird.
"I...don't really know what happened. I put Louis down and...I dunno. I got really dizzy and everything got all cloudy and bright," I mumbled.
"Harry, when was the last time you ate something?" Liam asked.
I had to think about it.
"I dunno. Two days ago, maybe?" I said.
Liam sighed heavily.
"What'd you eat?" he asked.
"Um...oh I think I had a few of Louis's crisps when we were in the van," I said.
All of the boys looked stunned.
Then I understood what Liam was getting at. I had passed out from malnutrition or starvation or something like that.
"Harry, we should get you home," Zayn muttered, "And I mean home. In Cheshire."
"No! I'm fine," I snarled, "I just got dizzy!"
The magazine workers glanced at eachother, but with a glare from Liam, they scurried from the room.
"You aren't fine, Harry! When was the last time you had a decent meal? Look at you. You aren't getting better and we don't know what to do anymore. You need help, Harry. You need someone to look after you and make sure you're eating enough so this doesn't happen again," Liam sighed.
I stood, shaking slightly.
I couldn't bring myself to look at Louis. He was getting told things about his best mate that he'd never realized himself.
"Li, I've tried getting help. Therapy and rehab didn't work," I muttered.
"Why the hell did you go to rehab?" Louis asked, "Are you anorexic?" I heard the wobble in his voice.
The boys looked at eachother, unsure of whether or not to tell him.
"Harry, how much do you weigh?" Louis asked quietly.
"Last time I checked, it was 120 pounds," Liam responded.
"I'm not anorexic, Lou. I just don't want to eat anymore. I'm not ever hungry," I said.
"You're starving yourself! I don't want my best mate dying!" Louis spat, jumping to his feet, "When the hell were you even in rehab and why didn't I know this?"
Liam's eyes flashed.
"Because you were to self-absorbed to notice! We told you he was going to therapy and you never asked why!" he snapped, "Harry, take off your bracelets. Show him what's been going on."
I paled. I really didn't want Louis seeing it. I didn't want him seeing the pale scars or the dark scabs of more recent cuts. He wouldn't take this well.
"Harry. Now," Liam growled.
I slowly unclasped my watch and slipped off the rest of my multiple bracelets.
"Show him," Liam commanded.
I took a deep breath and held my wrist out to Louis, who grabbed it.
He covered his mouth when he saw the mess of scars.
"How long has this been going on?" he whispered.
"About a year and a half," Zayn answered.
Louis ran his fingers over the ridged bumps that my scars created. It felt good.
I understood his shock. There was hardly a clean spot on my wrist that I hadn't cut into. There were diagonal cuts, horizontal cuts, even one vertical cut that I had made when I was told I had to try rehab. I had wanted nothing else but to die. Liam had stopped me before I could make it any deeper of make another one.
Louis looked up at me, his eyes wide as tears dripped down his cheeks.
"I had no idea...," he whispered, "I had no idea, but you all knew. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Take off your shirt," Liam said quietly, not answering Louis's question.
I did.
Louis's eyes widened at how sharply my ribs protruded out of my skin. I had lost a ridiculous amount of weight and he was just now seeing it.
He took in my whole body. The cuts on my wrist, the bags under my eyes, the indent under my ribs that my stomach had become.
"I'm going to throw up," he mumbled, taking two steps backwards. Finding a trash can a few feet away, he became violently sick.
I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear the idea that he knew now. If I stayed any longer, he'd probably find out the reason why I was the way I was.
I yanked my shirt back on and sprinted out the door, shoving several employees out of the way as I ran for my car.
I couldn't get home to my razor fast enough. I'm sure I broke the speed limit several times on the way, but by the time I got home, I was going crazy.
I needed to cut so badly it hurt. My hands shook and I was sweating. It felt like I was a drug addict suffering withdrawal. In a way, I was. I was addicted to cutting.
I flung open my door and dashed down the hallway to my bathroom.
Fumbling with the small blade and slicing my fingers in the process, I jerked it across my wrist, hot tears and cold sweat dripping down my face and mingling with the blood that flowed from my wrist.
It gave very little relief.
I dug the blade in deeper, in the same spot. The stab of pain made me gasp, but as the initial shock wore away, it felt so good.
The sting that I felt as the razor tore apart the skin on my wrist was nowhere near the pain my heart felt. But it took the edge off of it.
I stared at the two new cuts on my wrist, the ruby blood enthralling. I knew that one of the boys would probably arrive to check on me soon.
They had every right. They didn't know how extreme or mild my depression was at the moment. Liam knew I wasn't going to kill myself. Zayn probably did also. But Niall had a tendency to assume the worst.
And now that Louis knew...
I was hungry. Really, really hungry. My stomach clenched and growled.
The flat really didn't have a lot of food. But I managed to make myself a sandwich and got a glass of water.
"Harry?"
Dammit. I waited for Liam to find me in the kitchen. The sight of me eating made him smile slightly.
"Louis wanted to come but I told him that it was better if he didn't. I said maybe later," he said quietly.
I nodded.
"I'm assuming you cut yourself," Liam continued.
I nodded again and showed him my wrist, one of the cuts still bleeding slightly.
"Harry, I just...I just don't know what to do. Today was really scary for all of us. You're malnourished and you're cutting yourself and nothing's helping you to stop. I'm trying to be brave but Harry...I'm really scared," Liam whispered. I knew he was about to cry and my heart squeezed with guilt.
"I want to stop. I do. But I can't. If you take away the razor, I'll find something else to cut with or I'll hit a wall. And I want to eat, but usually I either forget if I've eaten yet or I feel sick if I eat," I mumbled.
"I want you to try rehab again," Liam said.
I sighed heavily and wiped the beads of blood off my wrist with a towel.
"What makes you think it'll work this time?" I asked.
"I want to try a different place. This place...you're not connected to the outside world at all. No media, no contact with us," Liam explained.
"That won't work. I'll get depressed from not seeing anyone. God dammit, Liam! I don't know what the fuck to do!" I snarled, throwing my glass of water across the room. It hit the wall and shattered.
He looked at me, his eyes wide with fear. I had never been violent before.
"You think if I go to rehab, it'll all be better! That I'll stop cutting, that I'll eat and gain some weight. Maybe so. But as soon as I get out, it'll just be start again! It's not something that you can fucking fix by locking me away! You can't just forget about somebody like that because its more than depression. My heart's broken Liam and there's no way to fix it! He'll never look at me and understand the pain I feel! He'll never want me the way I want him! I wanna...I wanna be his, Li! I want him to hold me and fix me so I'm not broken any more! I want..."
I stopped, throwing another glass. It shattered also. The sharp edges would cut me if I touched them.
"Harry. Calm down, it's okay," Liam murmured, seeing the look on my face as I stared at the shattered glass.
"It's. Not. Fucking. Okay!" I screamed, whipping a plate towards him.
He paled as it hit a few inches to the left of his head.
It felt good to break things. I threw plate after plate, glass after glass until all I had left was a pile of glass and broken china.
I stood, breathing hard.
Liam was as far away from me as he could get while still being in the room. His eyes were wide.
"Hey, Harry?"
Neither of us moved as Louis walked into the kitchen.
He froze when he saw the destruction.
"He had a bit of a meltdown," Liam explained.
I couldn't bring myself to see what Louis's reaction was. It must be horrible for him. He had thought I was okay, but today so many things proved him wrong.
"Why?" Louis asked, his voice noticibly shaking.
"He's just...," Liam stopped.
"Because I can't fucking take this anymore," I snapped, looking up and into Louis's beautiful blue eyes.
"Take what?" he asked, his lip trembling. I wanted nothing more than to kiss it until it stopped.
I absently wiped a bead of blood away from my wrist. It had almost stopped bleeding.
I heard Louis's sharp intake of breath and I felt sick that he had to see me like this.
"Why are you guys keeping me out of this?" he whispered.
"They figured it out by themselves, Lou. I never told them anything," I muttered, "I should clean this up."
"Uh, no. I'll do it," Liam said quickly.
I knew why he volunteered. He knew I'd be tempted to cut with all the sharp fragments of dishes.
"I don't get it. Why is he like this?" Louis murmured.
"He is standing right here," I snapped.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
He was crying again and I wanted to kiss away the tears that streamed down his face.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped!" he cried.
"You should have seen it for yourself. We all did. How didn't you see how skinny he was getting? When I saw his cuts, I didn't tell anyone. Zayn and Niall saw them by themselves. And you fucking acted like Harry was perfectly fine! You knew he was going to therapy and you never bothered to ask why! How can you call yourself his best mate when it's me that's been there for him for the past year?" Liam snarled.
I was surprised, but not surprised at the same time.
Throughout this whole ordeal, Liam had been there for me the whole time when Louis hadn't.
Louis was crying harder now.
"I think...I think I knew. I just didn't want...I wanted him to be okay! So I didn't...I pretended he was!" he wailed.
I stepped over the broken dishes and wrapped my arms around him.
He gasped softly, but buried his head in my chest and sobbed harder than I had ever seen him cry.
"Hush, it's alright," I whispered.
He shook his head.
"I'm horrible! I never noticed," he sniffed.
Then he laughed sharply.
"You're comforting me when it should be me making sure you're okay," he said.
I brushed a piece of hair away from his face. My body itched for me to kiss him but I didn't.
"I'm gonna go out for a little while. Get some fresh air," I said, pulling away from him.
"Want me to come?" Louis asked.
"No. Let him be by himself for a bit. He's got a lot going on," Liam said, gently putting his hand on Louis's arm.
Louis looked a little reluctant as I put on my coat and shoes.
"I'll be fine. I'll be back in two hours or so, alright?" I asked.
Louis and Liam nodded.
"Come on, Lou. We should probably clean up the glass," Liam suggested. He sounded like a baby sitter talking to a child after their parents left to go out for a little while.
"See you," I called.
I was so relived to leave.