Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

This isn't how I planned any aspect of my life to occur.

The plan was simple: Finish university with a 4.0 GPA, Get a well-paying corporate job that's more intense than the assistant job I've now, Find a man that loves me for me, Get married at a gorgeous ceremony, Have beautiful children, Grow old with the man of my dreams and watch our kids mature right before our eyes, and Then fall deeper and deeper in love with our time together.

That Night wasn't supposed to happen. My life wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

*Contains: Language, mild sexual content, and a bit of violence. Content could be triggering for some.*


41. ✗ thirty-nine ✗



20 July


Anger no longer possesses my body like it did yesterday. Actually the second I was out their front door and out of their lives forever, I was happy.


I don’t have this nagging internal battle with myself over having to call my mother back after she’s left me multiple vivid messages. I don’t feel this strain within me, urging me to go crawling back to that messed up life that I once knew. No. I don’t feel anything but happiness…


… Well except hunger.


“Harry.” I mutter into the telephone, my eyes trained relentlessly upon the large blueberry muffin halfway in Melissa’s big trap.


As soon as I saw her place it before her on the desk and carefully unpeel the wrapper I was on the phone dialing my boyfriend behind the closed door. I didn’t hesitate, even with a friend and partner all the way from America.


“What? What’s wrong?” He questions rapidly. I can hear him fiddling on the other line, but my eyes are glued to the breakfast food being eating away by the woman I cannot stand even for a moment. “You’re not going into labor, are you?” His hushed question brings me out of the trance I’m in, only to smack myself in the forehead for his, dare I say it, stupidity.


“I’m only thirteen weeks, you doorknob.” I mutter, licking my lips lightly.


I must look like the craziest woman to ever step foot in this office. I’m glaring at the muffin as if it’s a naked man; excuse me a NAKED HARRY STYLES. Right now I don’t know which I’d rather, a nude boyfriend or a damn muffin.


“Then what’s the problem?”


“I need a muffin.”


And like that a roar of laughter sounds from the other line, so loud that I can hear him cackling without the phone. Melissa looks back from her desk and glances to the frosted doors to our rear.


“I wonder if Mr. Payne is funny.” She says to me, shrugging her shoulders and sending me a wink.


I think she got the wrong idea earlier.


When Mr. Payne entered the office only minutes prior he strutted straight on over to my desk. I had barely taken my eyes off my computer when he helped me to my feet and brought me in for a large hug and a peck on the cheek. To say I was taken back would be an understatement. And I continued to stay in a surprised, and a little frightened, stance until he whispered in my ear, “heard about you and Styles; thank fuck he’s finally found someone to hold onto, especially a gorgeous young woman”. I think the blush that crept across my face gave Melissa the wrong impression.


“You heard me.” I say, interrupting the cackling. “If I don’t get a large blueberry muffin with crumble topping within the next five minutes I may just…” I pause. I hadn’t thought of the latter option yet.


“You’re cute.”


“Don’t call me cute.” I say, a bit too loudly. I can feel Melissa’s eyes on me but I ignore them.


No one at the office really knows about Harry and I yet either. We came out as a couple at the banquet last Friday and surprisingly it’s been quiet, even with that kiss we shared next to the windows of paparazzi. Now, I don’t know if everyone knows and they just haven’t said anything, but they haven’t approached me about it yet.


“Alright, love, what do you want me to do about it?”


“Honestly, I don’t know why exactly I called. I’m just going to head to Starbucks myself.” I admit, hanging up the phone and standing from my desk. “Melissa,” I say with purpose as I gather my handbag from the floor, “I’m going to Starbucks and I will be back in a few. Take charge.” I instruct as I head towards the exit.


“Wait, Shay!”


I stop at the glass doors, my hand on the handle. I turn only to be greeted by Harry’s open office door and him jogging over to me. “Do not take too long, do not talk to anyone you don’t know, and be careful. If you’re not back in ten minutes I’m coming to find you.” I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes at his protectiveness.


“Is that all?” I question, well aware of the two pairs of eyes on us.


“No.” He says, glancing over his shoulder at Mr. Payne in his office peering out the door and Melissa at her desk, pretending not to watch us. “I also love you very much.” He states, quite loudly in fact, before his hands cup my face and he pulls my lips to his.


The sudden public display of affection brings a smile to my lips as well as a very loud gasp from the woman sitting idly by. I watch her out of the corner of my eye with her jaw dropped, eyes wide, and the rest of her features completely frozen.


“I love you too.” I say, once I’m detached from my love. “Ten minutes.” I agree, pecking his cheek softly before swiftly exiting the room with a large smile on my face.


My happiness just keeps on growing.


The walk down the street to Starbucks is short and quite calming. The warm summer air keeps the smile on my lips whilst the breeze blows lightly through my blonde hair. I decided to wear it down today which is odd for my work attire, usually it’s up and out of my face. I guess today is a day of new traditions.


Today I start wearing my hair down to work. Today I kissed Harry at work without worrying about people seeing. And today I’m leaving the office by myself, which I haven’t done since before that night. Oddly enough, I only feel a tad uneasy. As I make my journey I find that a few people who pass me by stare at me for a bit longer than I’d like, which causes the uneasy feelings, but I ignore them.


Maybe I have something on my face.


I walk into the Starbucks to find my day already getting even better. There’s no line and a glass case full of sweets, including a blueberry muffin with crumble topping, sits by just waiting for my arrival.


I quickly hop up front and set my handbag down on the counter, grinning like a child at the barista.


“Hi, one hot chocolate, a hot tea with three sugars, and two large blueberry muffins with crumble topping.” I might as well bring Harry a tea whilst I’m out.


The girl at the register, who looks no older than seventeen, does a double take before her jaw drops. I stop midway from pulling my wallet out of my Michael Kors bag and stare back at her, my eyes narrowing.


“You’re the girl from the tabloids.” She states, eyes wide and lips barely moving before they form into a large grin.




“Excuse me?” I say, chuckling lightly.


What is she talking about?   


“You’re the girl.” She simply says, pointing to the stack of magazines that sit up front near where I stand. My eyes scan the tabloids before mimicking the girl and doing a double take on ALL of them.


How did I not know? How has nobody approached me or told me? Have I been so oblivious to those around me this morning? I remember the woman at the front desk’s eyes scanning Harry and I a bit longer than usual this morning. We hadn’t run into any other employees in the span of the elevator ride to the office, aside from Melissa, but she was oblivious as well.


“Oh my God, you’re dating Harry Styles.” She says, bringing my attention back to her. “You are actually dating the best looking bachelor in the city of London! He hasn’t dated in like years.”


I can tell she’s buzzing in space, rocking back and forth on her heels. I’m unsure of how to approach this situation, so I just brush it off and continue on.


“I guess so, can I get my order?”


“Oh I’m so sorry, of course! I just can’t believe you’re real.”


Well, I am a human being therefore I should be real, correct?  


The girl shakily types up my order and I pay before excusing myself over towards the rack of magazines to inspect them whilst she prepares my order.


Hello!: CEO’s Mystery Woman


Ok!: Harry Styles New Girl


Look: It’s Official CEO Bachelor Off the Market


Now: Harry Styles Now Taken


On all front covers were photographs of Harry and I entering the banquet hall last Friday with a smaller photo in the corner of the two of us sharing a kiss behind glass doors, one magazine even showed a photo of the two of us since before we were dating, maybe from two years ago. My hand was wrapped around Harry’s bicep as he escorted me through the crowd of paparazzi outside of an event. It was a completely innocent gesture, yet the tabloids took it and ran with it.


I debate whether or not to phone Harry, but shake it off as my name is called by the barista. I take the brown bag from her and stuff it in my bag before taking the cup holder and quickly exiting the Starbucks, hoping to get back into the office in time.


But unfortunately, my day has taken a rapid downfall.


“Miss! Excuse us!”


I jump back against the door of Starbucks, completely caught off guard by the mob of people awaiting my exit. My eyes scan the numerous men and women crowding with cameras and microphones. I don’t know how I missed them when I was heading for the exit. I don’t know how I didn’t see them outside the office when I left.


“How long have you and Mr. Styles been together? Has this been a secret affair for legal reasons? What is your name? How old are you?”


In the moment I don’t know what to do, whether I fight through them and hope that they don’t touch me or spill my drinks or back track my way into Starbucks and ring Harry to come help. Either way my ten minutes is coming to a close soon. Being the dumb broad I am, I chose to go for it.


“Excuse me.” I say politely over their shouting as I try to push through the mob of flashing cameras and microphones thrust in my face.


“What is your name, dear?” Someone yells directly in my ear, causing me to cower away in the other direction whilst keeping hold of my possessions. “We need a name! Give us your name!” I ignore the woman’s words and fight through the people, pushing lightly at them to try and get out of their mass, but there seems to be no end.


Suddenly, I’m completely surrounded by them as they scream and grab at me.


My heart begins to race in my chest, the thumping pounding my ears. My palms begin to sweat profusely and I find I have to grip harder onto my bag and drinks to ensure I don’t drop them. I feel the tears begin to prick at my eyes and the back of my throat begins to burn whilst I try not to let the tears fall. My breathing has picked up rapidly and my chest begins to tighten. My body starts to shake and I know exactly where this is going. I know what’s to come if I don’t get out of this situation.


Usually my anxiety stems from being late, but I also do not enjoy large crowds, especially when they’re too overbearing. I’m fine in the streets, I’m fine on the tube (usually), and oddly enough I’m fine when I go to concerts at the O2. And I’ve never had much anxiety when it came to paparazzi because Harry’s usually by my side.


But now…


I turn in circles in the group, looking for a potential exit, but find nothing aside from people. They seem to get closer to me as I turn, their hands reaching out to touch me. I can’t seem to find my voice to tell them to back up and let me through. I drop both of the to-go cups in my hands, the hot liquid splashing on the concrete and my feet. I don’t feel the burn though, it’s like the pain receptors from my feet to my brain are blocked


A cool sweat breaks out on my brow and I find myself losing it. The breathing gets harder, the urge to cry becomes too much, and the pounding in my chest starts to alarm everything in me.


Just as I’m about to fall to the ground out of exhaustion or fear, somebody’s hands grip my forearms causing me to yelp loudly as the person pulls me to their firm chest. I turn my face, ready to scream and fight this person, but find a sense of peace. His green blue eyes stare into mine as a sigh of relief leaves my lips.


“I got you.” He says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders whilst his other hand extends to fight through the crowd before us.


This man has single-handily saved my ass twice in less than two months, granted this is the first time he’s physically saved me. He has impeccable timing and even as the anxiety courses through my veins I find a bit of calm in his presence. “Look down, take a deep breath.”


Damian, get me out of here.” I plead as I keep my eyes glued to the concrete whilst he continues to lead me out of their harsh crowd.


They continue to shout and plead for answers, but I focus on my breathing and tune them out.


“In, in.” He ushers me in the glass doors of Styles Incorporated, in which the paps are not allowed to enter, as security guards flock to the doors.


I exhale deeply, walking over to the small waiting lounge in the lobby. I drop myself onto the cushions of the sofa off to the side of the main desk. I drop my head into my hands and focus on my breathing as my hands shake.


In and Out. Deep breath in, deep breath out.


“Where’s Harry?”


With a shaking hand I point to the elevator, keeping my gaze on my shoes and my burned, hot pink flesh.


“Top floor.” I breathe out, my voice cracking with the attempt to keeping the tears at bay.


All at once the tears begin to fall uncontrollably from my eyes. Though I’m no longer in immediate danger my body and brain still think I am. I need to calm myself down before I fall into an all out panic.


“Shay,” Damian begins, dropping into the couch at my side, “I should get-“


“Shay!” I don’t even bother looking to the person that’s interrupted Damian because within seconds he’s at my side. “Shay, look at me, are you alright?”


Harry kneels before me and takes my head in his hands, pulling my face up to look him in the eye. I nod my head as my lip quivers and tears spill from my eyes. Clearly, I’m not okay, but I really don’t have it in me to discuss this. “You don’t have to lie to me, I know you’re not okay.” I shake my head as I break into quiet sobs.


Harry pulls my body into his as he stands switches seats with me. I sit in his lap as he holds me, rocking me back and forth and pressing kisses into my hair. He tells me it’s going to be all right and that I’m safe, just the words I need to hear when I come down from an anxiety attack.


We continue on like this for several minutes, until my breathing as calmed and the tears have stopped.


“Damian?” I hear Harry question after I’ve calmed. “What are you doing here?”


“Saw your girl fending for herself out there, wasn’t going to let that continue on.” Damian answers.


I pull my face from the crook of Harry’s neck as I try to compose myself. I can feel several sets of eyes on me, but I chose to ignore them. I’m not able to bring myself to look to them all with streaked makeup and a look of terror on my face.


“Did they hurt you?”


I shake my head slowly at Harry’s question and slide my body off of his so that I’m sitting in between Damian and him. My eyes fixate on my feet, the pain just now setting in. I groan and kick my pumps off my feet, reaching down to examine them.


“What the hell happened to your feet?” Harry asks worriedly, sliding off the sofa and taking one of my feet carefully into his hands.


“I dropped our drinks when I was surrounded. It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” Harry yells at someone to get him a first-aid kit whilst he continues to examine my feet. “How did you know?” I ask, referring to the way he just so happened to be coming down to the lobby when Damian brought me in.


Harry’s eyes shift between mine slowly, the green irises almost glistening in the sunlight pouring in from the glass entrance to my rear. With a soft sigh and a small, reassuring smile upon his lips he says:


“I don’t know. I just felt like something wasn’t right.”


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