But Harry's life has not been all downs and no ups. No, he knows that he should treasure the small things, that he should be grateful of the things he has.
Yet, he's finding it increasingly difficult to do so.
He pushes himself everyday to force a smile and give a wave. To be the boy everyone expects him to be.
Maybe that itself may be the issue. He strives to be the same person he was before. But he's not quite sure who that is anymore. Instead, he finds himself in his fans. Who they seem to think he is. To them, he is the boy of their dreams. Kind, humble, witty, charming. He resolves to be all these things, but above all to be kind.
For he knows that the kindness has been there long before he became Harry Styles. That he knows has been his redeeming quality.
But how long can the kindness last when he's being pushed around by everyone in his life?
Management has ruled him voiceless. They decide what he does, when he does it, and who he does it with. His fans (although well meaning) projected onto him who they believed he is. Taking away his own personality, and lashing out when he seems to be something different than what they had believed.
He was caught between a rock and a hard place. There didn't seem to be a way out, not one that an ideal ending.
He remembers back to that day so long ago when they were asked,
"If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?"
His answer then, all of their answers then had been,
"To be someone. To be famous. To be bloody amazing."
But today, today he remembers not being able to see his mother on her birthday. Not being able to be there for his sister's first real heartbreak. Not being able to pursue her, the one girl that ever really mattered.
His mind swirls in ebbs thinking about all the nots. The have nots, the will nots, the can nots.
He looks up at the interviewer with a charming smile.
"Oh, sorry, lost in thought there."
"Have you thought of an answer, dear?"
"Can we repeat the question one more time?"
"Of course." She looks up at the producer, and he sees the question in her eyes. She wasn't sure why he hadn't understood the question in the first place, "If you could wish for anything that money can't buy..." She repeats it very slowly, as if asking a child. He silently sighs. "What would it be?"
He nods, leaning back into the uncomfortable sofa before responding.