I had made plans to meet Harry to talk about what had been going on between us. I had been laying with him at night but nothing much besides that.

I had stopped to get a magazine and was left shocked when I bumped into my mother. Her small body was thinner than usual, and she was wearing more makeup as well. I almost didn't recognize her. “Mother.”

I quickly turned to the man to pay him and moved aside where she stood, holding a little boy's hand. She seemed different especially because she wore a hat over her head. My mother hated hats, said her hair would get messed up. “Well look at you,” she said smiling. “Your hair is blonde.”

“I never expected you to come into the city. I'm in shock.” We awkwardly stood there for a moment, looking around until I addressed the fact that she had a child with her. “Who is this?”

“Abraham, this is Debra.” I smiled noticing a few people around me gasp and point.

“Nice to meet you, how are you?” I asked her.

“Perhaps we could sit somewhere and talk?” she suggested looking around. “Away from people staring at you?”

“I'm on my way to see someone, would you want to come to breakfast?” she nodded, holding the little boy's hand and walking with me down the street.

“I hope I'm not intruding on anything.” I shook my head until I realized that I was about to introduce my husband to my mother. Although Harry and I weren't together, we were still married.

As we walked into our favorite cafe, I sat down and gave my mother a menu. I already knew Harry was on his way so there was no point in calling him, I just had to stop him before he came to sit with us to remind him to be on his best behavior.

The waitress came over, a young girl who recognized me. “Oh my God Blondie, what can I get you?” I noticed my mother tense up but I ordered mine and Harry's food, looking at my mother who ordered breakfast for Abraham and a black coffee for herself.

“You know when I saw you on television, I didn't recognize you.” her tone seemed relatively even and calm.

I had just gotten my hair done so I was as bleached I could get. “Yeah, I look different with the makeup and hair but that's sort of the style.” she nodded. “Mom I-”

“You're married,” she asked holding my hand. “Why aren't you wearing a ring? I know about your marriage Debra.” before I could respond, I looked up and noticed a familiar face surrounded by unfamiliar hair.

Harry stood in the front looking around for me, he had cut off all of his hair and was in a black pair of jeans and black button-up tucked into his pants. He noticed me and I quickly stood to warn him. “Mother, my husbands here and my ring is at the jewelry store getting cleaned.” she seemed to perk up at that.

I walked quickly over to Harry who seemed a bit shocked at the fact that I came over and kissed him on the cheek. “Deb?”

“I ran into my mother, just act like you still love me, please. I really don't want to have this conversation with her.” I dragged him towards our table.

“I do love you, but okay,” he replied, following me over to the table.

“Mother this is my husband, Harry, Harry, my mother.” he shook her hand and took a seat. The way she looked at him was like when you see a cockroach in the kitchen of someone else's house. You don't exactly want to say anything because it isn't your house, but you know damn well you won't eat there.

“You may call me Ruby.” he nodded looking at the little boy who didn't say much at all.

“Ruby, and who is this?” he asked looking at the little boy. “How old is he?”

“His name is Abraham, he is my son and a bit shy, just turned four.” I didn't even say anything about the fact that he was the little boy in my mother's stomach the last time I saw her at the church. Harry smiled down at him and reached his hand over, the sleeve of tattoos making my mother visibly uncomfortable. Abraham shook Harry's hand and pointed to the naked lady on his arm. “So I'm not trying to be rude, but did you have an actual wedding or was it really in the sinful Las Vegas?”

I sipped my own cup of coffee and nodded. “No, we really did get married there. How have you been, mother, I'm still in shock to see you?” a lot had changed in the past few years for me. I had traveled, met musicians, toured with David Bowie, gotten married, and watched my marriage fail. As for my mother, she moved two streets over from her old house and still worked at the church with her husband. I spoke about my tour and all the good things, not including my husband's infidelity, discovering I liked both men and women, and all the times I woke up from a blackout drunk night.

“Imagine my surprise when I'm watching the news, fall asleep and wake up to your voice on the television, singing about sex.” she shook her head. “How did you even get into this band?” This was Harry's first time meeting my mom and he was already realizing why I had left. “I mean you ran away and that was it, you suddenly met a band and became ‘successful’?” I could tell the tone was shifting in our conversation.

“We are successful, I had met Harry and he needed a singer. When your husband tried to kiss me-” she scoffed beginning to pick up her stuff.

“For god's sake, Debra May, do you realize how ridiculous you sound with your lies. It's been years and you still honestly believe a man of the church tried to do such things? I see the way you dress in magazines, practically like a hooker-”

“Enough!” Harry slammed his hands down, causing the restaurant to look our way, before playing it off and going back to their usual conversations. “I'm glad I never met you, what kind of mother doesn't believe their daughter has been touched? What is wrong with you? If you saw how scared she was when she ran to me, shaking in my arms and begging me not to let her go, you would have left that man.” his tone was quiet and serious. “Now, you've been looking for her right? What is so damn important that you have to tell her? Because if you don't talk, I'm gonna take her home with me.”

She took a seat and looked around at both of us. My mother sighed and looked down. “I'm dying Debra May. About two years ago I got diagnosed with cancer and treatment isn't working for the type I have. The doctor said I have a limited time left.” she pulled her hat off and I realized her hair was gone. “When it's time, I'll have them contact you for my service at the church.” she looked at Harry whose face had dropped and covered his mouth in shock.

I looked down at my hands and felt like there wasn't much to say. “What?”

“You heard me, I have six months at best.”

“Do you need anything? Medicine, a nurse?” I had money now, and even after everything, I still wanted to help.

“No, I don't need anything but God and my family.” she stood up and I felt myself holding back to hug her, I couldn't move. “Good luck with your music, your father would have been very proud.” she turned to grab her son and left.

Harry

This morning was supposed to go a lot differently in my head. Deb had decided to give me a chance to talk about our relationship and we ended up having a heart to heart with her mother. If you want to call it that? Debra was quiet the whole way back. The guys were at the house as we walked in, leaning around the radio.

“What's going on?” I asked as we walked in.

“They've been playing our song all day, Deb check it out we're number fifteen on the Billboard top hundred.” Debra walked over to the radio and put it up, listening to her voice and the backup vocals of Mitch. She looked at me and then at the guys nodding.

“You guys did well.” she turned and walked towards the bedroom, pulling off her coat as she did.

“What the fuck is her problem?” Pink asked. “She wrote the fucking song.”

“Is she alright? What did you do this time?” Mitch looked up.

I didn't know if I should tell them, but I was there, and they needed to know not to fuck with her since she might be a bit emotional. “Deb bumped into her mum who has cancer. She's dying and Deb's not taking it so well.” The music was turned down and they all sighed. “She'll probably be crying a lot so no jokes, Pink.”

We all suddenly turned at the sound of glass breaking. It sounded like Deb wasn't crying anymore, but just angry. I walked over and opened the door slowly to see that she had thrown the vase beside her bed filled with flowers. She had also thrown something at a mirror, but as I examined her and the scene before me, I realized she had actually punched the mirror maybe three or four times.

I knew how to handle her because this behavior screamed my name. “You want me to clean your hand or you want me to find you something else to break?”

“Fuck you!” she grabbed a picture frame and threw it in my direction.

“You missed me, relax, alright sit down so I can clean your hand- for fuck's sake we might have to take you the emergency room.” I checked her hand and it looked fine, but just to be sure I would take her to the doctor when she calmed down.

She fell onto the ground and began smacking her head as she cried, she was having some sort of panic attack. “I hate that all I can picture is her in a fucking casket because that's so much better than picturing you getting your dick sucked by another woman!” I stopped and listened to her speak. “For weeks I go over and over what I did wrong and I always think that it's my fault but the reality is that it's not.”

“Deb, you're not making sense, what are you upset about?”

She let out a laugh and looked up at me. “You're the only person I can talk to, and the person I hate the most right now. My mother is dying and she never apologized so I'm still mad at her. But why does she have a baby, the baby is small, we never had a baby.” she began rambling over and over until I noticed a dent in one of the doors that lead to the bathroom. It was too big to have been her fist.

I walked over to her and pushed her hair back to see that she was bleeding at the top of her head and she had a mark on her forehead. She had most likely slammed her head against the door. “Deb, hey do you know where you are?”

She seemed dazed and confused, looking around the room. “It's the room. The room with glass.” she was really bleeding from her hands now. I decided to take her to the emergency room at that point. Worried for her safety and the fact that she might have a concussion.

This lead to rumors....so many rumors.

The lead singer Blondie, of the up and coming band The lips, was just admitted into a hospital for reported domestic abuse by her husband, lead guitarist Harry Styles. The twenty-two-year-old singer was admitted just as her band's song, "Heart of glass", reached number one on the billboard hot one hundred.

Blondie is in a coma for argument with band.

Musician arrested over domestic violence.

None of the rumors were true, but to the media, I had become a monster.

Thanks for reading. Xx

-k