Night Changes
A New Beginning
Harry... Harry's mind was trying to get to him as he opened the bathroom door and connected the shaver that he used to keep his legs smooth. What the hell are you doing, plugging that thing in?
"I'm Harold Smiles," Harry told his reflection a shade too confidently, to ease his beating heart. "It's time for a change."
So you're throwing you away because you think you're old enough? Harry's brain scolded him.
"Be quiet," Harry said quietly. "I'm 21, not 12. I can do what I please with my life."
Oh Harry, his mind sneered. When the hell will you stop making the same mistakes?
"You're the only mistake I ever made in my life!" Harry exclaimed, raising the razor. It made a buzzing sound, causing Harry to jump a little. Then, he suddenly realised the guard wasn't on.
"Whoops," Harry said, slipping the guard onto the razor. He wanted to go short, but skin bald was a shade too short. "I guess you got me there for a second, brain."
He smiled at his reflection. Anyone who didn't know Harry very well would think of him as a psychopath because of his queer way of talking to himself. However, for those like Louis who knew him very well, it was all part of the mysterious Harry Styles' life. He would sing in the shower to wake himself up, sing himself to sleep and talk to himself when making hard choices. It was his way of keeping sane.
He raised the razor to his head, shaving off a few curls. His heart skipped a beat and he was frozen for a second. But now that some of his hair was already on the floor, he was excited. Harry continued to plow through his curly locks, creating a mighty mess on the floor. Had he been at home, his mom would have scolded him for cutting his hair and leaving a mess. Then, she'd tell him to "clean your crap up unless you wanna get grounded". But he was 21 years old and free to do what he wanted to do, so he made a mighty big pile of hair on the floor. Soon enough, there was more hair on the floor than on his head. He patted the stubble, pleased with himself.
"Damn, Harold, good job," he said quietly.
Oh shut up, his brain told him. You're too much of a pussy to go out in a buzz.
Harry made a bad finger at the mirror and stepped outside, into his new bedroom. "I am now outside and not afraid!" he declared.
Pshhh... his brain said, laughing at him. Anyone can pull off that little stunt, then lie in bed all day. Going out of the bathroom doesn't make you less of a coward.
"Oh yeah, I totally knew that!" Harry said, slipping off his shirt and changing into a red shirt. Then, he pulled a white hoodie over the shirt. "In fact, just to prove you wrong, I will go out and feel the breeze against my head. I will laugh so hard and you won't get to be right!"
Harry smiled, exiting his hotel room. The midnight moon smiled at him as if to commend him. He laughed, humming along to the chirp of our crickets. For some reason, his alto voice kindled something in him. He sat down on a nearby bench, suddenly a bit sad. The moon gazed down at him, seeming to tell him something.
Are you okay, Harry?
"Um yeah, I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be fine?" Harry smiled at the moon, as if it was some long lost friend. Suddenly, a voice echoed across the horizon.
"You there with the buzzcut."
Harry turned sharply in the direction of the voice. He knew someone... or something was lurking in the shadows and it scared him. But his voice, when it came out, defied any fear he possessed.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
"I'm Harold Smiles," Harry told his reflection a shade too confidently, to ease his beating heart. "It's time for a change."
So you're throwing you away because you think you're old enough? Harry's brain scolded him.
"Be quiet," Harry said quietly. "I'm 21, not 12. I can do what I please with my life."
Oh Harry, his mind sneered. When the hell will you stop making the same mistakes?
"You're the only mistake I ever made in my life!" Harry exclaimed, raising the razor. It made a buzzing sound, causing Harry to jump a little. Then, he suddenly realised the guard wasn't on.
"Whoops," Harry said, slipping the guard onto the razor. He wanted to go short, but skin bald was a shade too short. "I guess you got me there for a second, brain."
He smiled at his reflection. Anyone who didn't know Harry very well would think of him as a psychopath because of his queer way of talking to himself. However, for those like Louis who knew him very well, it was all part of the mysterious Harry Styles' life. He would sing in the shower to wake himself up, sing himself to sleep and talk to himself when making hard choices. It was his way of keeping sane.
He raised the razor to his head, shaving off a few curls. His heart skipped a beat and he was frozen for a second. But now that some of his hair was already on the floor, he was excited. Harry continued to plow through his curly locks, creating a mighty mess on the floor. Had he been at home, his mom would have scolded him for cutting his hair and leaving a mess. Then, she'd tell him to "clean your crap up unless you wanna get grounded". But he was 21 years old and free to do what he wanted to do, so he made a mighty big pile of hair on the floor. Soon enough, there was more hair on the floor than on his head. He patted the stubble, pleased with himself.
"Damn, Harold, good job," he said quietly.
Oh shut up, his brain told him. You're too much of a pussy to go out in a buzz.
Harry made a bad finger at the mirror and stepped outside, into his new bedroom. "I am now outside and not afraid!" he declared.
Pshhh... his brain said, laughing at him. Anyone can pull off that little stunt, then lie in bed all day. Going out of the bathroom doesn't make you less of a coward.
"Oh yeah, I totally knew that!" Harry said, slipping off his shirt and changing into a red shirt. Then, he pulled a white hoodie over the shirt. "In fact, just to prove you wrong, I will go out and feel the breeze against my head. I will laugh so hard and you won't get to be right!"
Harry smiled, exiting his hotel room. The midnight moon smiled at him as if to commend him. He laughed, humming along to the chirp of our crickets. For some reason, his alto voice kindled something in him. He sat down on a nearby bench, suddenly a bit sad. The moon gazed down at him, seeming to tell him something.
Are you okay, Harry?
"Um yeah, I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be fine?" Harry smiled at the moon, as if it was some long lost friend. Suddenly, a voice echoed across the horizon.
"You there with the buzzcut."
Harry turned sharply in the direction of the voice. He knew someone... or something was lurking in the shadows and it scared him. But his voice, when it came out, defied any fear he possessed.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
Notes
Haha... I like how Hazza's voice sounds a little bit creepy.
Anyhow, here's Ch. 2. Will be updating fast today, but on somedays I'm not online.
Oh yeah, what do you say about me collabing with TheTopazParachute?
Just a thought 'cuz she's awesome :)
