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.*


27. ✗ twenty-six ✗


As soon as we had arrived home four hours ago, Shay dismissed herself up to our room and hasn’t been down since. She was particularly silent in the ride home from the precinct, which is understandable, but it worries me.

The last time she shut me out Shay nearly lost it, and we can’t have that process repeat itself. Hounding her could only get me so far, and I know she hated it even though she didn’t say anything to my face. The evidence was clear in her eyes, it always is.

I’ve been sitting in my home studio since we arrived home, after I made sure that Shay was settled of course. I haven’t been able to spend much time down here in the past couple of months, maybe six or seven actually. Work has been so hectic with the expansion that I don’t have time to relax and write music or sing like I used to.

A few years back anyone who entered this home would walk in to a house full of music and I’d be singing and dancing around like a teenager.

I cannot stand. I cannot run. Without you by my side I feel so alone.

My fingers tickle over the keys before I pound my fists down, creating chords that sound so horrific to the ear. A loud groan leaves my lips as my head makes contact with the top of the shiny piano. I feel the sheets of paper there slide out and flutter onto the floor. “Great.” I mutter, shaking my head and sitting up tall.

I’ve been down here for ages it seems like and I cannot produce any good lyrics. Those three phrases, sentences if you must, are the only true lines that I seem to continue to write. Nothing else has come of the writing process. I used to be able to write a song in hours, minutes even if I was inspired.

I stand from the bench and pick the sheet music up from the floor, placing it neatly on top of the piano. My feet take me over to the bookshelf at the back of the room, where binders sit untouched with songs upon songs stuffed inside, some of the music spanning all the way to when I was around sixteen, years of experience between them and I know.

I used to write about things that any sixteen-year-old boy is interested in, parties, having a good time, and girls. In a way, even as a grown man I still write about girls, but not just any girl. My girl. I’ve been writing about Shay since she started working for me all those years ago. It sounds creepier than it actually is. But since everything that’s happened, I cannot seem to write one piece about her that is worthy of being produced and recorded. They’re all shit.

Picking up one of the binders I bring it over to the table and throw it down, slouching down in a chair in front of it. I open it and begin thumbing through it; maybe looking back will help my creative mind.

Or maybe you’re doomed to failure.

A smile comes to my lips at the words written in my handwriting, some of the lyrics cheesier than cheese itself, but still quite good in my opinion.

So kiss me where I lay down. My hands pressed to your cheeks. A long way from the playground.

Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain. I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days.

Feels like I’m constantly playing, a game that I’m destined to lose.

Escape from the city and follow the sun. ‘Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?

“Those are good, Harry, now why can’t you write like that now?” I find myself grumbling out loud.

I shut the binder and stand back up, my inspiration slowly starting to wither down into thin air. I know if I don’t take a break now I’ll never get anywhere. Honestly I’ve never been in this position before. I’ve never been so writers’ blocked. Lyrics and melodies are always swimming around in my head, but now there’s nothing but drama and work concerns up there, weighing me down.

“I thought I’d find you down here.”

I nearly jump sky high hearing someone other than myself speak. I spin around to see Shay, leaning against the doorframe. She’s stolen one of my cozy jumpers that comes to about her mid-thigh, as well as black leggings and some fuzzy socks. She looks exhausted; the dark circles under her eyes can be seen for miles.

“Hey, yeah,” I say, pushing the binder the rest of the way into the shelf to insure that it doesn’t end up on the floor, “how are you doing?” Shay shrugs and pushes herself from the doorframe, taking a seat in the chair I was just sat in. She looks drained, physically and mentally. I don’t know when the last time she had a good nights sleep was.

Last night I felt her toss and turn, moaning something in her sleep. I can only imagine what the nightmare had entailed. I found myself waking her at three in the morning when I couldn’t stand the sight of her suffering any longer. As soon as her eyes met mine she brushed it off saying she didn’t want to talk about it, that it was nothing to concern me with. All she wanted was to wee and then curl up back in my arms and try to sleep. I hate seeing her this way.

“I’m fine. I’ve just been watching a bit of TV and trying to get some work done.” I frown at her response. The last thing she should be doing is working. “Actually just received an email from Louis,” My brows raise, suddenly interested in what my mate could have possibly sent Shay. For all I know it could be an embarrassing photograph of me from sixth form, “about a banquet he’s holding in a couple of weeks for the Happy Children Foundation. Apparently the co-founder needs to be in attendance and make a speech.” She raises her brows at me and smirks. “Have you decided to become a philanthropist in your great time off of work?” Shay jokes.

She knows my schedule better than anyone, which is exactly why she knows that I have literally no time off.

“I haven’t told you about the foundation?” She shakes her head and shrugs.

I hum in response, remembering back to last year’s banquet. It was pretty laid back and Louis always hosts. His mum, my mum, and he are always in charge of everything. I simply make a large donation, give a speech, and promise that in the next year I’ll try and be more involved. As much as I want to be more involved, I just don’t have the time.

“Tell me more about it.”

“Well, Louis and I were having lunch one afternoon and this mother came in with her child. The boy was clearly very ill, but had a smile on his face. The mother was clearly putting on a happy face for the boy and she was very optimistic. We actually joined them after we had finished and it turns out the boy had a terminal illness and only had a few more weeks to live.” Shay gasps and I watch as her hand instinctively comes to rest on her stomach. Way to go. “That night we got the idea. The foundation is for children with terminal illnesses or just very sick kids. We raise money for medical expenses and other expenses the families may run into.”

“That’s amazing.” Shay says. “Do you ever get to see the kids?” I nod in response, smiling back to the times that Louis and I have visited local hospitals.

“I try to go at least once a year with Louis to a couple of the hospitals around the city. We visit with the kids, play games with them, and bring them toys. We basically do anything to make them happy, hence the name, and try and make them forget about all the stresses a child should never have to go through.” I answer.

I always loved doing the hospital visits, even if they did tear your heart to shreds and make you question God’s intentions. “But once a year we hold a banquet and invite a load of business owners and rich bastards. There’s music and dancing and food and, well it’s basically just a boring party for rich people. The more we please them, the more they give us. If it weren’t for such a good cause I won’t make a big fuss out of it. It does raise us a lot of money for the foundation.”

“How come this is the first I’ve heard of it?” Shay asks, smiling lightly.

I shrug and smile back at her before taking the seat beside her. I reach across and take her hand in mine, staring down at her fingers intertwined with mine.

“I don’t know. I mean I’m sure you’ve reminding me about attending, because it’s always on my calendar, but I don’t really know.”

“We should start a donation box in the office.” Shay says out of the blue a few seconds later.

I gather my thoughts and bring my eyes up to meet hers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we should get a box or something and have people in the office donate money. Even if it’s just a couple of pounds, it’ll still help.” I find myself smiling largely at her idea. I don’t know why I’ve never thought of it before, maybe it’s why I have Shay. “I can work on it, handle everything.” She says, shrugging.

“How’d I get so lucky?” I ask, spinning Shay’s chair so that she’s facing me. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles back at me. “I’m serious.” The smile on Shay’s lips falters briefly before growing larger. She stands from her chair and softly sits down on my lap. I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly.

“How are you really doing?” I ask softly, whispering to her. She sighs heavily and shakes her head as she snakes her arms around my neck and places a soft kiss to my cheek.

“I don’t honestly know.” She admits, sitting up tall on my lap. “I’m relieved that it’s all over and that he’s off the streets for good, but at the same time I still feel uneasy.” I frown and pull her close to me again. The last thing I want is for her to be uneasy about anything. “I think I just need a few days for everything to just sink in, you know?”

“Yeah, of course.” She sits up again and I follow her gaze at the opposite wall. Her face is blank of emotions, but I can tell that she’s thinking. Usually when she gets the dazed look and her face goes still it means she’s thinking heavily about something. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, curious to know what’s going on in that head of her’s.

“I need to get away.” She suddenly says, her gaze still glued to the wall.

I stiffen in my seat, my arms instinctively tightening around her waist. I want what’s best for Shay, but I can’t stand the thought of us being apart. I hate it when she’s not within arms reach. I’ve got it bad.

“I wanna get away with you.” I feel as if I can breathe again and I nod in agreement. We just got back from Australia, but it seems like it was years ago since then. “I know we just got back from a trip and that you’re very, very busy, but I can’t help but think this is what we need.”

“I agree.” I say, raking my brain for somewhere we can go.

I don’t want to take her somewhere too far from home, it would be too much stress on her body. She’s already taken a toll from the travel and everything that’s happened here at home, she just needs a mini-vacation. I’ve wanted to take her to Paris since I’ve met her, but I’m not for busy travel at the moment. So I need to find somewhere in Great Britain; somewhere close, but far enough away. Somewhere like…

“You agree?”

“Of course.” I respond, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of Shay’s lips. “I’ve actually been thinking about going up to Holmes Chapel and visiting my mum and Robin, if you would like to join.” I spill.

I have been thinking about it for a while now. My mother will be busy planning the banquet, but she shouldn’t start until at least next week. Plus, Holmes Chapel is only a three-hour drive from my place. We could leave tomorrow in the morning and be there by lunch. We could stay at my mum and Robin’s house so we wouldn’t have to pay for a hotel, even if it is no bother. An added bonus is that the paparazzi will not be likely to follow us there. I’ve been noticing a few paps outside the building earlier this week, but nothing a few security guards and a valet couldn’t handle.

The corner of Shay’s lips quirks up in a smile and her eyes start shinning. “Would that be something you’d be interested in?” I ask.

“Going to Holmes Chapel to meet your family?” She asks and I nod, confused as to why that would be questionable. “I would love to.” A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I smile and pull Shay close.

“What do you say we leave first thing tomorrow?”

“I would say you’re a genius.” 

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