Chapter 25

I blinked, looking away from Niall and towards the door, on which I was holding on to. For the last few hours, he’s been talking to me about what I should do. For instance, talk to management and my aunt about my depression. After that, he said he wanted me to go to treatment to get help for my issues. And lastly, he told me to talk to Harry.

“He doesn’t want to see me, Niall,” I mumbled.

“Maybe not,” Niall said, “But you owe him that much. An explanation, at least.”

I knew he was right. Of course he was. After all the shit that I’ve done, the least I could do was explain to him what I’ve done wrong and apologize. I looked up at Niall, and wrapped my arms around him. I felt his lips on my forehead for a second before he pulled away.

“Come on, Sof. Let’s go.”

Niall and I left his apartment, his arm wrapped around my waist. I didn’t mind the gesture, it was comforting. Niall and I walked out of his apartment building, and into a black car that was waiting for us—it was the same vehicle that brought Niall and I here. Niall and I didn’t say anything the ride to my hotel. All the words that were necessary were already said, and neither of us had nothing more to say. We both knew what was going to happen after today.

I would go home to LA. I would pack everything I needed, say goodbye to my family and friends. I would fly into England and say goodbye to Niall and Harry. Only then would I be driven to a treatment center in the countryside of England. There, I would spend six months trying to get better and become a better person.

Treatment center: both Niall and I knew that it was the best decision for me. I could get the help I needed, to better my career,  myself, and my life.

When the car parked beside the doors of the hotel, I turned to Niall. “Thank you for everything,” I told him. “It means so much that you listened to me and wanted to help me.”

A small smile made it’s way to the Irish lad’s lips. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

I nodded, smiling myself, before wrapping my arms around Niall. He hugged me back, and I left the vehicle, walking into the hotel. Nobody gave me a second glance as I wrapped my arms around my stomach and walked into an open elevator. I leaned forward, pressed the button “L4” and leaned back against the wall.

I let a low sigh pass through my lips, hearing the terrible elevator music and the small dings from moving floor to floor.

The elevator opened, and I made my way to my hotel room, where my aunt most likely was. I slid in the key to my room and opened it. I was right. My aunt was sitting on her bed, the laptop open and her fingers flying away.

“Auntie?” my voice was small. “Can I talk to you?”

My aunt peeked up from her laptop. The glasses she wore slid down until they were just barely hanging on her nose. I stifled a giggle and sat down on the edge of her bed. Aunt Delilah slid the computer off her lap and onto the floor. Then she scooted closer to me.

“Of course, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” concern filled her voice.

I fiddled with my fingers for a moment, trying to figure out the right thing to say. No matter what, though, I knew my aunt would understand. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at her. “I want to go into treatment.” I told her.

Aunt Delilah’s eyes widened, becoming as big as saucers practically. “What on earth do you want to go to treatment for? Is everything alright?”

I shook my head, no. “Depression. Self-harm. Being on the verge of starving myself. . .”

My voice cracked and tears blurred my vision. I watched my aunt’s face break into something heart-breaking and let her pull me into a deep hug. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and didn’t let go. I didn’t cry, but a cry-less hug was something I definitely needed.

When my aunt pulled away, she looked at me. “Are you sure this is what you want? This will put the album on hold, Sof.”

I nodded. “This is what I want.”

It was true. I didn’t want to be a bitchy person, or someone with the worst attitude. I wanted to a better person, so that people won’t treat me the way they do; so that my fanbase will be better; so that I don’t have to see the amount of hate in my mentions every day. I wanted to do it for me. To improve myself in so many ways.

“Okay,” my aunt replied softly. “I’ll be on the phone with management on the balcony to settle things through. When did you want to go?”

“As soon as possible,” I said.

My aunt, grabbing her phone, disappeared onto the balcony.

* * *

Tears filled my eyes once again. It wasn’t from the constant pain I pushed aside or the fact that my arms were stinging from the cuts. It was the fact that I was leaving behind my father and baby sister (my mother, too, but all I received was fake tears and hugs; I didn’t appreciate that much). I frowned, wiping away at my tears.

I’d already said goodbye to them almost eleven hours ago, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. Six months. I would go six months maybe without seeing my sister, and father.

And Niall, and Aunt Delilah, I thought.

Then Harry popped into my mind. Tomorrow, I promised myself I would see him. I was exhausted from the flight. If I did head over to Harry’s I would have liked it to be when I was fully awake and not tired.

I waited patiently for the next ten minutes until the flight was done and over with. I followed everyone else out of the plane and down a small hallway. I kept my head down to keep myself from being recognized. Only god knows the damage it would cause if someone did recognize me.

Successfully, I found my luggage ten minutes later and immediately went outside to call a cab; my aunt wasn’t here, and I didn’t bother to arrange a previous ride. I had to call a taxi in order to get to my hotel safely.

After three agonizing minutes of constantly hailing a taxi, waving my arm out for every taxi, one finally stopped for me. The taxi driver opened up the trunk and let me put my suitcases in there. Tucking my purse by my side, I stepped inside the taxi.

“Take me to a decent hotel, please,” I murmured, leaning back against the seat.

The driver murmured something about details before taking off. Tired from the eleven hours on the place, I turned my head to look out the window. London was passing by and I didn’t even care. All I wanted was a soft bed, thick sheets and some sleep.

I sighed and waited patiently until the taxi driver stopped in front of a Holiday Inn. I paid the driver the amount necessary, and retrieved my belongings from the trunk.

Within a half hour —after dealing with the front desk and trying to get a room for one night; it was almost unbelievable how unwilling they were to provide a room for me— I finally opened the door to my room on the seventh floor. I spotted the queen-sized bed, and made my way towards it. I didn’t bother to kick off my shoes or any of my clothing to change into proper pajamas. I fell into the bed, curled my body around a pillow, and passed out faster than anyone could say “Mary Poppins”.

When I woke up, I glanced at the alarm clock.  It read 1:45 PM. I groaned, running a hand through my hair. I managed to sleep all throughout yesterday, and most of this morning. My body ached from staying still for so long. I sat up, and felt my limbs protest. Regardless, I stretched.

After ten minutes of stretching and trying to wake up properly, I checked my phone for messages.

Niall—You here yet? Did your plane land? Lemme know

Aunt Delilah—sweetheart, are in a hotel safely?

Ella—I miss you already

I felt my heart crack, reading Ella’s message. The only part I hated about leaving everyone for six months was that my sister didn’t have me around. She would be stuck going between Dad’s and Mom’s house. I frowned, but replied to every single text message. I dialled Niall’s phone number, and pressed it against my ear.

“Sofia! You’re safe!” I heard Niall say.

I almost wanted to nod my head, but fought against it. “Yes, I’m safe. I was too tired and passed out after my flight. And I guess I slept through yesterday and this morning.”

“Good, good. Sleep is always necessary.” Yes, but not that much. “Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were safe and everything. Still got Harry’s address I texted you?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Great. So, head over there now. Harry’s home, I just left his place not too long ago, actually.”

“Alright, lemme get dressed first. I’m still in my clothes I wore on the flight.”

“Gross.” I heard Niall say.

I laughed loudly,  turning to my suitcases. “Shut up, Ni. I was too tired to even change. Besides, they were leggings and a sweater. It’s nto as if I were wearing jeans and a nice blouse.”

“That is still gross,” Niall laughed.

“You know what? You’re gross!” I retorted, childishly.

“Mature, Sofia. Mature. Anyway, I’m going to let you go dress and shit. Good luck. Text me what happ-” Niall cut himself off, then said, “Nah, don’t text me what happens, I’ll just ask Harry. But do text me, though. I want to make sure you’re okay before you leave London.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, digging out a pair of jeans and my Doctor Who shirt. I pulled out a hooded sweatshirt to go over it.

“Alright, well, I’m going to let you go so you can dress. Don’t forget to text me. Bye, Sof.”

I barely muttered a goodbye before Niall hung up. I threw the phone on the bed, and quickly dressed myself into the outfit I picked out. After that, I packed my stuff, shoved my phone into my pocket and left for the lobby so I could sign myself out.

The staff seemed happy to have signed me out of the hotel. When I walked away, I could hear a snippet of their conversation. They didn’t exactly keep themselves quiet.

“...Finally she’s out of here...”

I sighed and hailed another cab. After shoving my suitcases in the back and telling the driver Harry’s address, I laid back against the seat and flipped through my Twitter account. I shouldn’t be on, mainly because Niall nearly forbade me to do so, but also because it depressed me. The nasty messages were endless.

Regardless, I tweeted, knowing very well Niall would see it and would rip me a new asshole. He couldn’t touch me, I was going to Harry’s and after that, treatment.

Like the ride to the hotel, I was patient. The taxi driver and I didn’t converse at all unless it was necessary. And my eyes were glued to my twitter account to avoid the awkward setting I was in (finding myself in a silent car was awkward, whether it was a taxi or not).

After a while, the taxi driver stopped at a small, yellow painted house with barely any yardwork done. It almost looked abandoned besides the fact that the house wasn’t rotting. I let out a small sigh, and paid the fee after getting my suitcases.  I watched the taxi drive off. I would have to call another soon, just so I could get to the treatment center.

Letting out a sigh, I dragged my suitcases with me towards the front door. As I walked, I could feel my heart race in anticipation. I haven’t seen Harry in a long time, and I wondered how he would even react. Would he even bother with me?

Biting my bottom lip, I knocked on the door loud enough for him to hear. Seconds passed and I rocked on my heels. Questions rolled into my  mind at an alarming speed, one right after another. I was too nervous to even—

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Harry. His hair was messy, not just in their specific ringlets. His shirt was wrinkled, showing a little of his tan skin above his pants line, and he wore heavy grey sweatpants. His green eyes were on me, accusingly. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to see me. I was pretty terrible to him.

“Can we talk?” I asked quietly, chewing on my bottom lip nervously.

I watched Harry’s eyes darken for a moment, and turn critical. His eyes traveled up and down my body, as if he were accessing me to make sure I was alright to enter. Finally, Harry spoke, only his voice was cold. “Sure.”

I felt my heart twist in pain. ‘Sure’? I thought he would have said more than just a cold-shouldered ‘sure’. Regardless, I walked inside when Harry let me come in, dragging my suitcases behind me. The house looked quite a bit like the cabin he showed me before. I frowned immediately at the memory, and gripped my suitcases tighter.

I watched Harry glance at the suitcases beside me, and a look of curiosity cross his face. However as soon as it appeared, it was gone. The cold, expressionless face returned.

“You wanted to talk?” Harry said.

I nodded, and took a minute to gather what I wanted to say. I looked up at Harry then and said, “Yeah.... I wanted to explain my behavior, and to let you know a few things.”

To see surprise and shock take place of the cold expression Harry wore didn’t shock me at all. I half expected it. Harry nodded, understanding it could take a while, and gestured towards the couch. Both of us sat down, but on other sides of the couch.

“Well, um, obviously I’m sorry for the way I acted towards you,” I began, fiddling with my fingers. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just... thinking of myself at the time. It was selfish and I should have talked to you about it before pushing you away.”

Harry let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “Sofia, why did you—”

“Harry!” I interrupted him, frowning. “Lemme finish, dammit.”

His cheeks turned a slight shade of pink before letting me continue. “Anyway... the reason why I’m pushing everyone away is because...” I fumbled with an explanation. I didn’t know how to tell him I’m depressed, and had no way to cope, that I was fucking everything up. So I simply raised both of my sleeves to show him my scars.

“I’m depressed,” I told him in a quiet voice, letting hands fall into my lap with my scars still visible. “I’m self-harming, and I’m nothing good. I push people away because I think that they’re better off without me. I fuck everything up, Harry and I just... I’m a mess. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore.

“After the girl beat my ass, and you tried to save me, I fell apart. I started self-harming because I didn’t know how else to cope. I kept doing it because it was my way to cope, you know? I had my writing, sure, but self-harming.... it took care of everything that I couldn’t write down.” then I remembered the song, Painted. “And Painted, the song, was just one healthy way I was able to cope. Otherwise... everything I do is just a mess. I haven’t made one proper decision in a long time, besides the past few days.”

I looked up at Harry this time, and saw tears rolling down his cheeks. I felt my heart ache at the sight. I quickly looked away before I could start crying myself.“And Niall helped me. He listened to me, as a friend, and let me cry and rant and just tell him everything. He helped me when I had no one else, and after I pushed everyone away.

“I went back to the states, after Niall and I talked as well as my aunt and I. We agreed that going to treatment was best. Management understood, and let me off for six months. The album’s on hold obviously since I’m not there to work on it... but I’m going to a small treatment center in the countryside. It’s far enough from London, and my privacy’s going to be respect. . . .”

My words trailed off, finding no other words to say. I looked up to see Harry frowning, the tears gone and his eyes bloodshot.

“Sofia, I...” Harry’s voice cracked, and immediately, he pulled me across the couch and to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t hesitant in replying to the embrace, wrapping my arms around his torso. “God, I’m so sorry, if I had only realized...”

I pulled away, frowning. “Harry, shut the hell up. It is not your fault. Don’t you ever put the blame on you, because you weren’t the one cutting my arms and making these fucked up decisions. It was me.”

“I know but—”

“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to blame yourself, Harry. I really, really like you, but don’t you ever do that or I will smack the shit out of you. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, but then suddenly paused. “Wait, you like me?”

Realizing what I had said, my cheeks turned a dark shade of red. “I, um, maybe. No. Well, uh... yeah.”

Harry laughed, pulling me towards him even more. “It’s okay, Sof, I like you too.”

My cheeks darkened even more, though I could feel my chest swelling with happiness. I bowed my head slightly, feeling Harry’s hands move to my hips. I blinked, looking down at his wrinkled shirt. “Yeah? You mean it?”

When Harry laughed, it was breathless. “Yeah, of course I mean it, Sofie.”

I only smiled, and let my head rest on his shoulder. We stayed there for a couple minutes, letting silence over-take our time together. Neither of us minded.

Until I realized something.

I shot up, looking Harry in the face. “You do realize I will refuse to have a relationship with you, right? Because I still need to go to treatment and won’t have a relationship while trying to focus on me. It’s too difficult.”

Harry smiled at me. “I know, Sofia, I didn’t expect us to start one right away, either.”

Harry leaned in a few moments later, towards my lips. Just when his lips were centimeters from my own, I turned my head abruptly, letting his lips catch my cheek. Harry looked at me confused.

I replied to him, smirking, “Why don’t you give that kiss when I get out of treatment?”