I look in the mirror
And all that I see
Is a girl I don’t know
Staring at me

Her smile says she’s happy
Her eyes say she’s not
Her words say she’s okay
But she has never forgot

The memories, the dreams
The pointless things

A reflection is a fickle,
Misunderstood thing
Thought I knew myself well
But a stranger’s looking at me
I don’t recognize her
I don’t want to know her
This girl in the mirror

Outside I breathe life
A confident face
But slowly I’ve changed
From an empty space

Inside of my heart
Where I thought I’d know
All the things I wanted
The places I’d go

But the memories, the dreams
The pointless things

Chorus

You can only lie for so long
Until you give in
The fake, the pretenses
They never win

You’ll never see it coming
It will be too late
By the time the reflection changes
It’s already set by fate

Chorus

The memories, the dreams
The pointless things
Like a reflection in the mirror
Are following me

My hands dropped from the piano keys and I smacked my head against the piano keys. I still didn’t like how the song sounded today. I had been messing around with this song all day, much to the boy’s annoyance who said that it sounded beautiful every which way I did it. Three weeks of rehearsal and interviews had gone by in a tornado, and I felt that I had no time to myself or to even hang out with my new friends during that time. I was a working, playing and singing machine, and the frustration was catching up to me.

I got up from the piano, snatching a water from my mother who looked at me sympathetically. She wasted no words of comfort for me, knowing that saying anything wouldn’t make me feel better. That was one of my flaws: it didn’t matter how much someone consoled me, I didn’t listen to them and I did not believe them.

Out of the group of boys, it seemed Louis had learned this the quickest. Each time I finished the song, still defeated, he didn’t offer empty compliments or try and insist that it sounded fine. He’d ask what I didn’t like about it, and then make suggestions to tweak it and try it a different way to see if I wanted it that way. He was so far the most helpful.

“Bentley-“

“Please,” I cut Harry off sighing angrily and hitting my head against the keys again, causing a disgusting and dissonant sound to emanate from them. “I don’t want to hear it. It just doesn’t sound right and I really wanted to try and make it sound different for the live performance.”

“I know.” I heard the smile in his voice and looked up at him, curious as to why he sounded that way. He held my guitar out too me, trying to fight a smile unsuccessfully, an adorable glint in his eyes. “Instead of playing the guitar during our duet, why don’t you do it for this song? It would sound quite different, and I think you might feel it more sitting in the middle of the stage doing it.”

I glanced at the guitar and back at the piano. My comfort zone was the piano, and I knew that I should have been able to do anything on it, but he was right. I wanted it to sound different and amazing. I got up from the piano and took it from him with a soft smile, making sure that our hands did not come into contact with the passing of the instrument.

Niall put a stool on the stage and smiled at me, gesturing for me to sit while making the face of a gentleman. I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a sense of warmth come over me for the group of boys who were relentless in their friendship towards me and their assurance of my success.

I felt that it was a great honor, to be working with them suddenly. I had never met a group of people so friendly and so willing to help before. I had only known them three weeks, and I felt as if I could trust them with my life and anything. Louis and I had grown so close that I felt as if he had been there my whole life, and I often wondered how I got through the day without him before.

My fingers began to strum the opening cords of the song, so different from the sound of the piano yet so perfect. I kept going and let the words form in my mouth as I sang them out, closing my eyes and just letting it flow. Sometimes the only thing you could do to get something right, was to breathe and let everything go, letting it come out whatever way it wanted.

By the end of the song, I had realized that this was the exact thing I needed. Everything about it was perfect and the different sound I wanted, filled with the emotion that had been behind the words when I wrote the song, when I had been confused about who I was and who I wanted to be. It had been a confusing time after my father’s death, and when I sang that song, the honesty shone through.

“Wow,” I breathed, opening my eyes to see the five boys sitting on the stage in front of me, all smiling at me like little kids listening to their favorite bedtime story. “That was just what I needed.”

“Thank Harry,” Niall cheeped happily, his blue eyes lit with happiness. “I know most of the time he’s busy thinking about girls and bums, but for once his mind was pretty useful.”

I glanced at Harry who looked overly proud, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at me. “You owe me now, you know?”

I snorted. “Owe you for what?”

“Helping you and making your song perfect. I’ll let you know what I want in return when I think of it.”

“Whatever, Curly.”

I hoped off the stage as Harry began to work on his solos. I pranced over to Louis and Liam, sitting in the open seat between them. I instantly stretched myself out, placing my feet in Liam’s lap and my head in Louis’ lap. To my surprise they didn’t protest as I made myself comfortable, letting Harry’s voice fill my senses.

Harry Styles had one of the most beautiful and sexy voices I had ever heard. I closed my eyes and listened to his voice flow through my mind, glad I was wearing a hoodie to hide the goose flesh that had appeared on my arms. I found myself lulling off into sleep, listening to his voice, a blissful black blanket draping over my sense so that all I could hear and feel was Harry.

Asleep, all I could picture was those green eyes and that beautiful voice.