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Alter ➳ h.s

t w o

t w o
dr. griffin
harry

I scratched my forearm and leaned back in my chair. Dr. Griffin, a young one she is. Graduated everything early and specializes in ‘Celebrity Rehabilitation and Therapy’ as she calls it. “Well the good news is: you’re not schizophrenic. Bad news: I’m going to prescribe you with more medication to last you in America. You’re going to do fine,” she saw the worry in my eyes. “I believe in you, Harry. Now, I called Louis to pick up your medication for you and Paul is waiting for you in the lobby. Any questions or concerns?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright.” She hugged me and I left. Paul was indeed in the lobby waiting for me. He handed me my sunglasses and the screams increased. I heard my name a few times. Phones were stuffed in my face but I couldn’t bring myself to smile today. It was too bright outside and too many people, too many flashes. Asking how I was feeling about ex-girlfriends doing this and that, not asking how I was. My hands were starting to sweat and the anxiety was kicking in.

It’s not large crowds, it’s the cameras and the screaming all at once. And I know I need to get better before the tour or else I won’t make it through one show. All the girls and a few guys were ready to claw, a few crying. Paul pushed me through as quickly as possible. I haven’t stopped to take a picture in months. It’s how close they are, it’s like they’re so real. I mean, I know they’re real but they don’t act human. They act like the ones from the ghost stories just haunting you. And I know that a nightmare about screaming girls and flashing lights doesn’t sound bad but I just can’t shake the feeling that one day, I’m going to die and they will no longer care.

Or they’ll continue to take pictures.

Either way, I’m afraid I’ll fall into oblivion and no one will care anymore. They’ll think of me as ‘The Popstar That Was’ and forget all about the traumatizing moments that most likely lead to my demise. Definitely led to my mind being lost somewhere between being hopeless and being helpless. I felt soporific but couldn’t pull myself to sleep in fear of nightmares from the public. Once I got into the car, I got into my normal fetal position and just laid there. Nothing was wrong currently, and Paul knew it. I was just laying there in sorrow, pure agony.

My image; oh has my image changed. I’ve gone from a player to an anti-social in a matter of months. The pictures and articles are all false. They think I’m on drugs or have some type of alcohol problem. They don’t know that the problem is them. The cameras in my face and the accusations. We have an interview today. I was to tell a live studio audience and the rest of the world that I was okay, that nothing was wrong. I was forced to sleep. Simon made sure sleeping pills were put in my foods and drinks. Sleep haunts me but I’ve never felt more refreshed. The bags looking better than before.

Once I arrived and got through another crowd, I pushed through people to get to Lou. She was sitting in the chair curling her own hair since I was at least twenty minutes early. “How you been? Everyone’s worried, Harry.”

“I know. I’ve been better but I’m good now.” I sighed and grunted while pulled out a seat next to her, watching her in the middle. “Louis’ gone to get my new meds. Supposed to keep me under control while we’re in America.”

“Let’s hope. I think you’re going to be okay. Truthfully, you just need one more person to make a spark in your life, you’ve been single for a year or more,” she reminded.

“I know,” I leaned back. “But I have hundreds of people around me. The last thing I need is another person to explain to. I don’t owe anyone anything anymore, not even an explanation.”

“But you’re giving one to the world.”

“Because!” She jumped. I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples, “Because Simon wants me to. I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Harry. You just have to make the right one. Now get into this chair, you have a lot of makeup to be done. Your skin is getting paler and worse.” She began to start putting things on my face, things to hide blemishes and dry, cracked skin. She didn’t talk much after I snapped at her, but there was nothing to say anyway. Everyone else arrived and Louis tossed my medication once I was done.

“It says take two of each. There’s two bottles in there, I think. And actually take them!” He took my place in Lou’s chair. A bottle of water was handed to me by Liam and I took the medication in front of them. No one minded much, in fact, they wanted me to so they could prove that I was actually taking them. After everyone else was done, it was time to go one.

“They are a record-breaking boyband doing what The Beatles didn’t, they are One Direction!” We all walked out with smiles and happiness spread throughout the room. It was our first interview in two months. I really hit rock bottom last month and the month before, looking deathly ill and plain dead. “Niall, Harry, Liam, Louis, and Zayn. Welcome boys.” We all said our hello’s. “Now, I don’t mean to be rude but I think it’d be appropriate to start off with you, Harry.”

“Okay,” I prepared myself and sat up.

“You’ve been seen out but you don’t stop for fans anymore, and you only wear sunglasses. People are fearing that you have something going on. Man to man, is everything okay?” The woman sitting next to him pulled her lips into a straight line, awaiting my answer.

“I’m perfectly fine. I’ve been very tired lately and the bags under my eyes have been massive so I wear sunglasses. As for why I don’t stop anymore: a lot of things have been going on. That’s all,” I smiled and people clapped.

“So you’re fine?”

“Perfectly perfect.” Niall had his arm around the back of the couch we were sitting on and patted my back lightly. The rest of the interview continued without anymore questions on my mental and physical health and I actually got to laugh. It wasn’t bad for a first interview after dropping off the face of the social earth for two months with no real reason. Maybe these people cared or maybe they just weren’t as blunt and up-front as most people. Either way, this was a nice start to a lot of interviews.

When everything was over, I went home with Louis. Paul wasn’t there to escort me but the rumors escalated when Louis was pulling me through the crowd. By arm, not hand but still. Girls and guys yelling, “Larry!” And such. I later heard there was a fight over Larry and Narry and all the other ships that will never set sail. There’s nothing wrong with homosexuality but I’m not apart of that group, none of us are.

Louis and I went home. I wanted to drink out of the bottle of water that Louis had sitting in the middle console in the car but I was too scared that it had sleeping pills drowning in it. “Harry,” he said, “you and I both know you’re larger than me and I can’t formally carry you. Just drink it, it was Eleanor’s but she never opened it.” Louis’ a good liar. I fell asleep on the couch.

In my dreams, I saw white. All white, that’s all. I couldn’t even see myself. I’d fallen; fallen deep into oblivion. Yet oblivion wasn’t dark. It was bright and white but still colorless all at once. Lost of life and essence. There was a face, burning into my mind. Only I couldn’t make out what she looked like, I could only see hair; not long, not short. It didn’t matter. Whether I could see her or not, I knew she was beautiful, beyond what I’d seen before.

Her body; not model perfect nor wide and oblong, but just perfect enough to wrap my invisible arms around her waist. I woke up around, what the clock said, ten hours later. I spent the ten hour that felt like five minutes thinking and dreaming about a girl I’d never seen nor met in my life. It was the best sleep I’d had in months; years. Louis appeared from the kitchen with his shirt off and a bottle of water in his hands, gray sweats on. I sat up and began rubbing my eyes with my palms, “You talk to yourself.”

I got up and pushed past him to the kitchen, “Because, I’m the only one whose answers I accept.”

“Besides Dr. Griffin.”

“Besides Dr. Griffin,” I agreed. The bottle of water I grabbed from the fridge cooled my insides and left me feeling calmer from my rarely okay dream. I drank from the bottle and although water is tasteless, I’d never tasted something so amazing in liquid form. “I don’t want to go.”

He knew I meant to America so he replied, “You have to.”

“I know I have to but I don’t want to. Don’t we get there on Monday?” Louis nodded and left the kitchen after another small exchange of dialogue. I sat on the counter and wondered about small things. Maybe Lou is right, maybe I do need someone else. But again, that’s one extra person to explain why and how I’m losing my mind and how to attempt to fix it. I’m tired of explaining myself. I don’t owe the world anything, I owe myself. I owe myself the happiness I’m being deprived of.

After finishing thinking, I took my pills and went outside to the front door. I did nothing except sit on the porch but sitting on the porch seemed to be the highlight of my day… almost. The brisk air of late May. It was 11°C outside but nonetheless felt a bit chilly and still warm at the same time. I like spring. It’s the time before all the chaos starts; when planning comes in. Well I guess I should say I used to like spring. Now it just freaks me out thinking about planning. Gives me terrible anxiety.

Cameras were going off in the distance. I could hear screams in the darkness when no one was actually there that I could see. My breathing changed and my heart, it just seemed to stop. Like every last breath I had left was caught somewhere within my body but I couldn’t release it. Everything stopped. The brisk air turned arctic but I was sweating heavily with panting sounds. I imagine I was loud since Louis had to come out and get me. He tried to sit me on the couch but my largeness proved that task impossible so he laid down on the floor next to me asking, “Are you okay?”

“Cameras,” I still couldn’t seem to breathe. “A-And the screams. They’re everywhere.”

“He-Harry. Just calm down. There’s no one outside, there’s no screams. I swear. No one is allowed out there and it’s late out. You’re fine.” Eleanor, who I didn’t know was here, came out of the back and sat on my right, rubbing my back. “Look at me,” I did. “You are fine.”

“Now breathe,” Eleanor instructed. We all breathed together for about five minutes. My throat opened up and my heart started responding again. Only I was still freezing although my body was sweating. El told me to just, “Try and go back to sleep.”

“No!” That scared her. “Do you not get it? I can’t sleep! I don’t sleep! The only reason I do is because management and all my fucking friends are drugging me. I can’t sleep because everytime I sleep, I see all those people and hear all those fucking screams. And it freaks me out, okay?” Her eyes were wide and Louis took a small step forward. “I-I’m sorry. I just—I need to get out of here.” So I did. In my pajamas and barefoot, I took the car keys and drove away into the morning of Friday. I don’t remember returning home the next day.