Be Your Everything

A breakdown. That's what the press was saying. Harry Styles, teenaged heartthrob, had finally lost the plot. The tabloids weren't entirely untruthful, but they were exaggerating to the extreme. He hadn't had a breakdown. No, he was just stressed. So management had told him to go. Not leave the band, of course; that'd be an outrage. They told him to leave London, to go on a holiday. The first suggestion was that he go visit his family, but that was shut down straight away - 'They'll know you're there, it's the first place they'll look!' was the answer to that. 'They' being reporters and journalists. He knew they were right of course. The whole point of this 'getaway' being to escape the press, he couldn't have them following him home. And so it was decided that he would go to a tiny seaside town he'd never been to in his life. Ridiculous, really. He could have handled the stress... well, if it hadn't been for the incident.
"Mate, the train's about to leave," Liam, Harry's companion by choice, pulled him from the reverie he had unknowingly slipped into.
Liam was quiet, unlike the other band members. Just what Harry needed. That was why, when asked if he would like anyone to accompany him, Liam's name had been the first out of his mouth. He wasn't clear on what had made him say it, but looking at his friend now he knew he had made the right choice.
"Right. Sorry," Harry replied dazedly, blinking rapidly to rid himself of the unwelcome images that were circling in his head.
Pulling the hood tighter around his head, its purpose to hide his identity, Harry stepped from the dark, dusty platform onto the train. The first thing he noticed was the smell - old sweat and cheap cleaning products - and the second was a middle-aged woman asleep half-in, half-out of her seat in front of him. She had a purple and yellow raincoat on and stringy brown hair that hung limp around her small face. She had only a handbag on her person.
"Come on then," Liam's voice reminded him that they were still standing in the doorway. As the two shuffled down the slim aisle the sliding door squeaked closed behind them. The next person he saw was a young woman. She was cradling her sleeping toddler in her arms. When she saw Harry, she shied away as though she expected him to pull a knife on them at any moment. And then he remembered that he probably looked rather shady with his black, no brand hoodie pulled right over his face. Likely she thought he was going to rob her.
He sighed and continued on his way, right to the back of the carriage, where himself and Liam could be alone. The only point to this was to decrease the chances of him being spotted - they wouldn't talk to each other. They had nothing to talk about anymore.

Harry thought he had never been in a train as long as he had that day. It was excruciating watching the young woman and her child get off at their stop (not without a worried glance behind her to make sure he wasn't following), then the next person, and the next person, until finally it was just the middle-aged woman and two boys left.
"You're kidding," Harry murmured the second he stepped onto a new, dirtier platform than the last. Management weren't kidding when they said tiny town.
"It's not too bad," Liam reasoned.
Not too bad. He was joking, right? There were a few shops, a hotel, pub, and small collections of cottages surrounding the main town. He didn't bother answering, just forced his feet to move toward the main road. He had been watching the sky all the way there so he had been expecting the drizzle that began to fall on his head as he trudged along. Liam was complaining about getting his hair wet but Harry wasn't listening. He just wanted to go to bed.
They walked past the hotel - "You'll be expected to stay there!" - and rounded a corner.
"There it is," Liam pointed out a stone cottage down the street a little. It was pretty, he had to admit. There was green ivy climbing over the walls. He suspected it would have bright flowers on it in spring. Using the key he was given - they had rented the house with a false name - he let himself inside. The sight wasn't entirely welcoming. The front door opened up into the joined kitchen and sitting room. If he was in a better mood he might have found it cosy - but, as it was, the sight of the squishy lounge chair and grey bench tops made him feel uneasy. They moved upstairs.
"I'm taking this room," Liam decided, jerking his head to indicate he'd chosen the room on the left.
And so Harry, even though it was for all intensive purposes his getaway, was left with the other room. Despite being pissed at Liam for choosing his bedroom first, Harry was rather happy with his lot. The bed looked comfy enough and it wasn't entirely too small.
"It'll do..." he grumbled to himself, dumping his bags onto his new bed and sinking into the duvet. Lately it seemed all he was doing was wallowing in self pity. It wasn't healthy and certainly wasn't attractive, but he didn't care. He felt sorry for himself and he'd be damned if a few people telling him to 'just get over it' ruined that.
Within 20 minutes Liam had driven Harry sufficiently mad. So much for the quiet one.
"I'm going for a walk," he finally declared. Without waiting for an answer he bolted out the door before he could be stopped. Damn, should've grabbed a jacket. It was true; the weather hadn't gotten any better. In fact, the drizzle had turned into a steady rain. He was shivering, but knew he couldn't go back. He needed to be by himself.
Without really noticing where his feet were taking him he ended up in a park. At first glance he thought he was alone - it looked empty - but on second glance he noticed a small figure hunched under a tall oak tree. The first thought that entered his mind was that she was dead, but a small movement from her told him otherwise. The water droplets were getting heavier and heavier by the minute and if he hadn't been completely frozen already it might have annoyed him.
"You just gonna stand and stare at me all day?" her small voice piped up. He hadn't realized how long he'd been there.
"Erm-"
"I don't mind."
"What are you doing out here alone?"
"I could ask you exactly the same thing," she retorted and if he hadn't been so far away he would have sworn he saw her smile slightly.
"Fair point."
"What's your name?"
"H-" he stopped himself. Should he really say his name? Well, it couldn't hurt. After all, how many people named Harry lived in the world? "Harry."
"You look cold," she commented without much emotion at all.
He ignored this. "You haven't told me your name."
"You never asked."
He almost smiled. "What's your name?"
"Alice."
"Alice..." he repeated, letting her name roll of his tongue. He still hadn't even seen her face. "Why are you sitting in the rain all alone, Alice?"
"I like the rain. It makes me feel... peaceful."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she shifted a little on the grass. It didn't look very comfortable down there. "And what about you? You're looking rather dark and mysterious."
Of course. He was still wearing his hoodie. She could probably see his face just as well as he could see hers. "I'm not mysterious."
"But you are dark?"
That stumped him. What did that word even mean?
Alice chuckled breathily and stood up. "I have to go. See you round, Harry."