Niall yelled for the fifth time.
"We're gonna' be late!"
I huffed and dragged my almost lifeless body out of bed and peered up at the calender that hung on the wall.
27th of August. Also known as Alex's birthday.
Tears started to well in my eyes as flashes of images passed through my mind.
Niall stopped in the doorway when he saw me a sobbing mess in the middle of the room.
Liam heard the sobs and barged straight past Niall.
He sighed and looked up at the calendar, placing a hand on my back.
His voice was soft and soothing.
"It's time to get over her, move on. It's been two years since she..passed away. You have your career, your family and the band to focus on now. I know how hard it is - I've been through it myself, but you need to pull yourself together mate"
He tapped me on the shoulder before standing up and walking out.
Niall was still stood at the door, not sure on what to be doing with himself. He decided to come in and speak to me.
"How's it going?"
He smiled, meaning the best.
I looked up with water still brimming my eyes.
"What do you want?"
I immediately felt guilty for my snap reaction.
"Look it's been tough...for all of us"
Niall stammered as I stood up and sat at my desk.
"But it's not good to carry around all of this hate and anger in you"
I scoffed and pulled a pen and paper out from the drawer.
"We're gonna' be late Haz. We have to leave...listen, I know how hard it has been over these last couple years, but it's not fair on the fans for you to keep acting like this. Think about Alex. Would she want you to be like this?"
I turned around, anger burning through my veins and smashed my fist against the wooden table.
"I told you never to say her fucking name!"
Niall looked terrified.
"I-I'm sorry. I forgot"
I stood up and pushed the chair to the floor.
"How many times have I actually told you, yet you still forget?!"
"Harry, I told you I forgot. Im sorry"
"Well you better be fucking sorry!"
I pierced him with a deathly glare while silence ate away at the atmosphere.
Niall placed a hand on my back as I leaned over the desk with my head in my hands.
"I-Im sorry Niall. I didnt mean to snap. Its just that todays her birthd-"
"It's fine. I understand"
I looked up at him who was smiling warmly down at me.
How these boys cope with my mood swings and anger I will never know. But the thing I do know is that I am incredibly grateful for them.
"Why don't you get ready? We have to leave soon"
I nodded wiping my eyes only making them even more red and irritated.
"Why do we need to go for a sound check this early? The show isn't until 7 tonight?"
He still had a smile spread wide across his face.
"Just hurry up"
He walked out of the room leaving me alone with my thoughts - even though he was most probably only a few feet away from the door.
See, I have to always be chaperoned on since Alex passed away. I was classed as clinically depressed and suicidal. My family and the boys have been extremely supportive and it breaks my heart to be causing them pain seeing me like this.
Of course management wouldn't let this out - not in a million years. But they were quickly running out of ideas as to why I am always moping about and not the old me. Fans were also noticing this, even before the media did. It's been like this for at least 16 months now and our fans are not stupid. They sniffed it out in the first 3-4 months. It would've been earlier but I was signed into a mental hospital for my "Suicidal thoughts and attempts, and clinical depression." But to the fans I was in LA on a private holiday, lapping up the sun and relaxing thanks to management.
I am now healthy enough to be let out, but have to have a constant eye on me. The boys never treat me how they used too. We used to have banter and play fight, now they just smile and talk to me politely. Its like im a distant relative who they have just met for the first time. They're too scared that im going to take something the wrong way and flip. I don't blame them, i know what I can be like, but I just can't stop myself.
"Harry! Come on!"
Niall called me from the bottom of the stairs. I shoved my legs in a pair of jeans and threw a plain black shirt on my torso and I was ready to go.