Harry woke up the next day with a pounding head and horrible taste in his mouth.

"Ugh," he grunted as his phone trilled out some reminder of who he was meeting at the studio today. He checked his appointment and immediately dialed Jeff.

"Hello?"

"Not making it to studio today, I'm gonna go home for the weekend. Think jack's about," Harry shuffled to the bath room and didn't bother to turn on the light as he started the shower.

He blanked for a minute as he thought of Laurel's open envy for the multi head masterpiece.

"Harry, Steve's time is valuable. You'll have to pay him regardless. Make an appearance," Jeff suggested. Harry was his best friend and number one client, but occasionally his age was apparent.

"Honestly, Jeff, I know Steve is amazing at his job, but we have no chemistry. I'm hurting brother, I'm hungover and want my mum's roast. Tell Steve I'm sick and thanks," with that he hung up.

Harry was irritated with himself. He knew that he was acting childishly, and that his disinterest sprung from more than the bottle he'd romanced last night. He couldn't get Laurel's smile out of his head. Who was that guy? When did they meet? Did she like him better? Were they already fucking?

The last one tortured him as he pictured her sitting up in her new man's lap holding his hair as an anchor. He looked up at the mirror at his growing locks mournfully.
"Bollocks!" He muttered and stepped into his shower. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself, and deserved nothing but this. He really hadn't realized the depths of his feelings, and he was apparently too little to late.

By 1 he had shoved down a fry up and was on the road. He texted his mum and Jack announcing his arrival and set up plans to meet at the pub. His mum was excited, but he could hear the unasked question in all her texts. He didn't often come home unexpectedly.

He walked in her door 3 hours later to outstretched arms and her wide grin.

Her concerned eyes were hard to miss as well.

"My baby," she misted and kissed his forehead, "alright, poppet?"

"Yeah, just needed a break, knew some friends were in town, thought I'd see them. Was hoping you'd cook for me?" Harry could hear the tone of his voice and was annoyed.

"Course baby," she smoothed his hair back. "Want some tea?" And then she did what she always did, she served him and made him comfortable and reminded him that kindness didn't come with expectations. He'd tell her if he wanted to or could and she would be ok with that.

It struck him then, Laurel did this for him too. But his mum was sure of her place and he'd put a lovely girl on the sidelines of his life with no knowledge for so long that her kindness had run out.

He groaned and laid his head down, " think I fucked up, mum."

"Harry!" Anne reproved, but gave him her patented tell me about it head tilt.

"Let a good one get away," he shook his head.

"Can you fix it?" Anne asked, while stirring the roast veg.

"Not sure," Harry shrugged and sipped at his tea.

"Do you want to try?"

"Yeah, but, not sure I should," Harry finished and Anne let him. That tone of voice she knew.

""You going out tonight?" His mum pushed the roasting pan back in.

"No, going tomorrow. Couple of the lads are about, but everyone is staying in with family tonight," he eyed her meaningfully.

Anne rubbed her hands together, "right then, dinner, wine, and Notting Hill!"

Harry laughed, it was so much better when she made his comfort ritual seem like her idea.

At midnight, his mother nudged him awake and he spied the blue screen on the TV. "Go to bed, love." She commanded.

His childhood bed was so comforting, a world away from the bedrooms he'd set up on his own. Who he was and was still.

He slept soundly and spent the next morning with his mum gardening and then driving around the country lanes and village singing Elton John with her.

By 6, he headed to the pub. Jack and Will were already waiting for him, and he was quickly informed that Roy was coming.

"It's good to see you, mate. What brought you home?" Jack asked after 4 rounds and when the catching up had subsided. He knew he had a better crack at Harry's long face while Will was at the counter and Roy in the loo.

"Well," Harry looked into his empty glass, "just missed home I guess. Feeling a bit poorly, fucked up a bit."

"Fucked up like with your gsce's or like with Abigail?" Jack was direct. It was Harry's favorite thing about him.

"Like with Abigail, reckon I'm passing all my tests these days," he smirked.

"What's her name?"

"Her name's Laurel. We had a thing, could have been more, but, think it's over. She seems to be with someone else," Harry gave a brace face and shrugged.

Jack nodded and the discussion was shelved as their companions returned.

The carousing continued and Harry maintained a happy buzz as they all laughed for the next few hours, merry and red cheeked. They spilled out of the pub later and went their ways.

Harry was most of the way down the lane to turn off for his childhood home when he heard his name being called.

He stopped and waited until Jack caught up to him.
"Alright mate?" He asked.

Jack bent at the waist to catch his breath, "damn, I need to focus on my cardio," he breathed deeply. "Bought your bird, I wouldn't worry. Remember what happened with Abigail?"

"You mean when you stole her out from under me?"

Jack laughed, "maybe for a time, but pretty sure she went to formal with you, not me. I think if you want her, you just have to show her."

"Think I should have done that already," Harry smiled sadly.

"You're Harry fucking Styles, what chance does this bloke have? You were just a fluffy haired kid when you stole Abigail back from me. Flex a dimple and take back your lady," Jack gave a sideways grin and jogged off.

He wasn't sure he should try, but he really missed the way she made him feel.

He pulled out his phone and opened instagram and navigated to her page, his breath stopped when her beautiful man was the first thing he saw. "What a beaut! @willycartier" was quoted below.

Who the hell was Willy Cartier?