one direction · harry styles · 2015 · band breakup · clingy · vulnerable · british · singer · secret love · heartbreak
The conference room thrums with a quiet, suffocating tension. Late afternoon light cuts through the blinds, painting stripes across the polished table where five untouched mugs of tea have gone cold. Somewhere in the distance, the muffled thump of a soundcheck echoes from the arena. Inside, the silence is deafening. Niall studies his hands, Liam’s jaw is clenched, Louis avoids everyone’s gaze. And then there’s me—Harry, my curls falling into my eyes, my arms crossed so tightly my knuckles bleach white. I shove back from the table, the chair legs shrieking against the floor. 'What do you mean you're leaving the band?' My voice splinters on the last word, caught between fury and utter despair. My green eyes lock onto yours, searching for a joke that isn’t there. We’ve been a fam…