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musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

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I’m Still Standing.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

author's note - this concept came into my head really randomly and it’s the most angsty thing i’ve ever written on this account, so i hope it’s good for you all!!

please understand that i’m not trying to portray harry’s fans as people who would laugh about scars, i made this up so it would fit the outlook for the story.

word count - 6.8k

in which, you and harry first met when you auditioned to be a member of his love band, since then, your relationship has only just got better, friends turned to best friends and best friends slowly morphed into lovers. it was definitely love at first sight. but in december of 2022, you were the victim of an accidental road injury, you were hit by a car. it took a long time for you to recover, your fiance tried to cancel the shows so that he could care for you but you didn't want him to miss anything, so whilst he toured oceania and asia, you stayed home. june, 2023 was when you thought you were ready to appear on stage again, but that all takes a turn for the worst when some fans make some nasty remarks, but harry's quick to remind you, that you're still standing better than you ever did.

trigger warnings - mentions of panic attacks and car accidents, mentions of scars and hospital terms, mentions of mental health and body dysmorphia.

You stand backstage, your fingers nervously strumming the strings of your guitar, trying to get it into tune. This audition for Harry Styles' tour band feels like the culmination of all your hard work and dedication.

The stakes are high, and the nerves threaten to consume you.

You didn’t really know what you were doing there, your mother had recorded you playing your guitar in front of your dog Monty and had posted it on her facebook, loads of people saw it and that was when you got an email from Columbia Records requesting that you come in for an audition, apparently Mr. Styles was looking for someone to join his band for his 2018, Live On Tour, tour.

To say you were nervous would definitely be an understatement, your hands were shaking and you didn’t really know how to stop them from doing it.

Just as doubt starts to creep in, the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention.

Your eyes go wide when you turn around and there he is, Harry Styles himself, leaning casually against the doorframe with that captivating smile on his face.

He was wearing a black loose fitted shirt, with flamingos adorned over the material, the buttons not fully done up so you could see the tips of his swallow tattoos peaking through, his legs were fitted with a pair of beige trousers and some yellow loafers attached to his feet.

He looked good.

"Hey there," he says in his velvety voice, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "You must be the talented guitarist I've been hearing so much about."

For some reason, your breath caught in your throat, resulting in you losing the ability to respond back to him.

Your heart skips a beat, and you struggle to find your voice. "Uh, yeah, that's me. I'm a big fan, by the way."

Way to embarrass yourself, (Y/N).

Harry chuckles, his laughter like music to your ears. "Well, I'm flattered. But remember, I'm just a guy with a few decent songs. No need to be nervous."

A few decent songs, he definitely needed to be humbled. His songs were like going to space, beautiful and rare, there was hardly any music like his nowadays.

His words instantly put you at ease, a wave of relief washing over you. You offer a shy smile and respond, "Thanks, Mr. Styles. I needed that."

He steps closer, his eyes fixated on your guitar. "Mind if I take a look?"

Harry Styles wanted to hold your guitar.

Harry Styles, heartthrob, wanted to hold your guitar, how could you ever say not to that.

Control yourself.

You nod and hand him the instrument, your fingers lightly brushing against his. Call it cliche, but a jolt of electricity shoots through you, and you can't help but blush.

Harry strums a few chords, effortlessly coaxing a beautiful melody from the strings.

"Sounds fantastic," Harry remarks, returning the guitar to your waiting hands. "I think you're going to fit right in."

Your confidence begins to soar as Harry's charm wraps around you like a warm embrace. The audition becomes less daunting with every word he speaks, his encouragement laced with playful banter.

"So, do you always have this effect on musicians?" you tease, a twinkle in your eye.

Harry smirks, leaning in closer. "Only the ones who make my heart skip a beat."

Your breath once again caught, you made his heart skip a beat?

His words catch you off guard, and your cheeks flush with a mix of surprise and excitement. You try to maintain your composure, but deep down, you can't deny the flutter of anticipation building within you.

He was really good looking.

You didn’t even know that you were auditioning until the audition progressed, your fingers gliding effortlessly across the strings, the music resonating with every fiber of your being. Harry's presence fuels your performance, his voice blending seamlessly with your guitar, creating a harmonious masterpiece. It's as if you've been playing together for years.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

In between your audition, Harry flashes you a sly grin and quips, "You know, if you keep playing like that, I might just fall head over heels for you."

You blushed once again.

Your heart skips a beat, and you laugh nervously, attempting to hide the blush that creeps up your neck. "I think I'd be okay with that."

Did you really just say that?

The air in the room crackles with a charged energy, and you find yourself lost in a dance of music and flirtation. Each note you play is a secret message, a longing that speaks louder than words. And in Harry's eyes, you catch glimpses of a shared desire.

By the time you reach the final chords, the room erupts in applause. Harry rises from his seat, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You were incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I'd love for you to join the tour."

I’m sorry, what?!

You can hardly believe your ears. The moment you've been dreaming of is here. With a wide smile, you respond, "I'd be honored, Mr. Styles."

He reaches out, his hand finding yours, and pulls you into a warm embrace. As his arms encircle you, you can't help but notice the racing of your heart and the way his touch sends a surge of electricity through your veins. The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists in this moment is the two of you, entangled in a moment of undeniable connection.

Harry's voice, barely above a whisper, caresses your ear. "Welcome to the band, love."

You lean back slightly, looking into his eyes, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirling within you. The unspoken tension between you is palpable, and you find yourself wondering if Harry feels the same magnetic pull that you do.

Maybe you were just imagining it.

As you break from the embrace, a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of Harry's lips. "I must admit, there's a part of me that's relieved you're joining the band. I wouldn't want to miss out on the opportunity to get to know you better."

Your heart skips a beat for about the millionth time that day, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities. A playful glint dances in his eyes, and you find yourself being drawn closer to him, your bodies now only inches apart.

"Getting to know you better sounds like a delightful prospect," you reply, your voice laced with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

Harry leans in, his voice a seductive murmur. "Maybe we could grab a drink after rehearsal? I'd love to hear more about the person behind that incredible talent."

A rush of warmth floods through you, and you nod eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

That was just over three months ago.

So far, you were rehearsing for his first tour as a solo member and things had been going great. You had met Sarah, Mitch, Clare and Adam five days after your audition and instantly got along with the two of them, calling them your best friends within two weeks of knowing them.

As for Harry, things were definitely starting to get better with the two of you. If you seemed to be having a bad day, he would find a way to put a smile on your face. He was cute like that.

As you join the band and embark on rehearsals, Harry's presence continues to fill you with a sense of comfort and confidence. His playful banter and infectious laughter become the soundtrack to your journey together.

During breaks, you steal stolen glances, your eyes locking and holding for longer than necessary. The air brims with unspoken tension, each encounter tinged with the promise of something more.

One evening, after an intense rehearsal, Harry takes you aside, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

"I've been thinking about us, you know," he admits, his voice filled with honesty. "There's something between us, something I can't ignore."

You weren’t sure you could ignore it for much longer either.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your own feelings echoing his words. "I feel it too, Harry. It's like we've found a connection that's hard to put into words."

He steps closer, his hand reaching up to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Would it be too forward of me to say that I'm falling for you? That being around you makes everything feel right?"

No…never.

A smile tugs at your lips, your heart soaring with newfound courage. "It wouldn't be too forward at all, Harry. I'm falling for you too."

In that moment, the world around you fades away once again. It's just the two of you, standing in the quiet embrace of a shared revelation. And as your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss, you know that this journey—this tour with Harry Styles—will be more than just a musical experience. It will be a love story for the ages, where the strings of your guitar intertwine with the strings of your hearts, creating a melody that will resonate long after the final notes have faded.

You had finally found the one.

Five years.

Five years you had been in a relationship with Harry and during those five years, the relationship between the two of you had done nothing but flourish.

On your anniversary in 2020, he proposed to you. He got down on one knee in your shared London house and there was no doubt that you were going to say yes.

You adored the man with every fiber of your body.

You find yourself sitting on the cosy couch in your shared hotel in Werchter, Belgium, a gentle warmth filling the room. Your fingers trace absent-minded patterns on the fabric of the blanket thrown over your lower body, keeping you warm as you let your mind wander, reflecting on the journey that has brought you to this very moment.

You cautiously cross the road, anticipation pulsating through your veins as you head towards the café to meet your boyfriend. The air is crisp, carrying a hint of autumn's arrival, and the city buzzes with its usual energy.

The road was safe when you crossed, until it wasn’t.

In the midst of the bustling crowd, a danger lurks, unseen and unforgiving.

A drunk driver, his senses impaired, careens towards you without warning. Time slows down, and your instincts kick in, desperately trying to avoid the inevitable collision.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you attempt to evade the oncoming car, but the impact is inevitable.

Pain sears through your body as you're flung through the air, crashing onto the unforgiving pavement. The world spins, and darkness descends upon you like a heavy curtain.

Inside the café, Harry sits near the window, a cup of untouched coffee growing cold before him. As he waits, a knot of anxiety tightens in his stomach. Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shatters, and his gaze is drawn to the horrific scene unfolding just outside.

That’s when he sees you.

Time slows to a torturous crawl as Harry's eyes widen in disbelief. He watches in helpless horror as the car strikes you, his heart pounding in his ears. With a mix of disbelief and raw emotion, he stumbles out of his seat, knocking over his chair in the process.

His voice trembles as he shouts your name, the desperation and anguish evident in his cries. "No! Oh God, no! Somebody help! Call an ambulance!"

Passersby freeze, their eyes widening in shock as they witness the aftermath of the accident. Harry's voice breaks, the weight of the situation crashing down upon him. He drops to his knees beside your motionless body, trembling fingers reaching out to touch your cold skin.

Tears blur his vision as he cradles your face, his voice choked with pain. "Please, wake up…(Y/N)... Don't leave me like this, m’angel… I can't lose you."

Amidst the chaos, someone steps forward, dialing emergency services and relaying the dire situation. The sound of sirens grows closer, a faint glimmer of hope in the midst of despair.

As paramedics arrive on the scene, Harry is forced to release his grip on you, not without giving a fight, another paramedic holds him back, running soft circles onto him as his hands shake uncontrollably. He watches, a mix of fear and agony etched on his face, as they work to stabilize your fragile form.

His heart shatters with each passing second that lacks a sign of life. He whispers desperate prayers into the void, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, don't take her away from me...I can’t…I can't live without….her…"

Finally, a flicker of movement, a gasp of breath escapes your lips. Harry's eyes widen in disbelief, his heart surging with a renewed sense of hope. "She's breathing…she’s breathing, you saw that…right?!" he exclaims, his voice filled with equal parts relief and disbelief.

As the paramedics prepare to transport you to the hospital, Harry is forced to release his grip on your hand, his gaze filled with a mix of longing and determination.

"I'll be right behind you," he promises, his voice steady with resolve.

Alone in the hospital waiting room, Harry paces anxiously, his mind clouded with thoughts of what could have been lost. He replays the accident over and over in his mind, tormented by the what-ifs that haunt him.

He had been waiting just over an hour and half for someone to come and talk to him. Give him an update on what was going on with you.

Hours stretch into an agonizing eternity as he clings to the faint hope that you will recover. The sterile hospital walls offer no solace, and he finds himself retracing the steps that led you both to this point, questioning the fragility of life and the unpredictable turns it can take.

Finally, a weary doctor emerges from behind the double doors, his expression a mix of weariness and cautious optimism. Harry's heart lurches in his chest as he rushes towards the doctor, desperation etched on his face.

"How is she? Is she going to be alright?" Harry's voice trembles with a mix of fear and longing, his hands clenched into tight fists.

You needed to be okay.

The doctor meets Harry's gaze, his eyes filled with compassion. "She's stable now. It was a close call, but she's a fighter. She sustained some serious injuries, but we're doing everything we can to help her recover."

Relief washes over Harry, but it's quickly replaced by a wave of guilt. He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. "I should have been there to protect her. I should have... I should have done something."

The doctor places a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Accidents happen, and it's not your fault. What matters now is supporting her through her recovery."

Harry nods, a mixture of determination and guilt playing across his features. "I'll be there for her. Every step of the way."

Days blend into nights as Harry sits vigil by your bedside, his fingers tracing the contours of your hand, desperate for any sign of improvement. The beeping machines and sterile hospital environment become your temporary reality, a stark contrast to the vibrant world you both once knew.

He called his mother about what happened to you and she and Gemma took the first flight to Los Angeles, so they could support not only you but him as well.

They forced him to go home and change his clothes, promising to call him if there was any news.

Sarah, Clare, Mitch, Adam and Jeff and Glenne were by your bedside as much as they could be but with there busy schedules it made it harder for them to be there.

In moments of silence, Harry finds solace in sharing memories of your love and laughter, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and longing. He whispers words of encouragement and love, as if the sheer force of his devotion could bring you back to consciousness.

And then, one day, a miracle unfolds. Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, confusion clouds your gaze. But as you take in the sight of Harry, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, recognition dawns, and a feeble smile graces your lips.

"I'm here, love. You're going to be okay," Harry whispers, his voice laced with relief. He brushes a gentle hand against your cheek, his touch a testament to his unwavering love and devotion.

A month into your recovery, was when Harry finally realised just how bad the whole ordeal was affecting you.

Harry arrives home from grocery shopping, his arms laden with bags filled with fresh produce and essentials. He enters the bedroom, expecting to find you in your usual spot, engrossed in a book or working on a project. But what he sees stops him in his tracks.

There you sit, in your wheelchair, wearing nothing but a sports bra and shorts. Your eyes are fixed on the floor-length mirror before you, your gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and frustration. Harry's heart skips a beat at the sight, his instinct to protect and comfort you kicking into high gear.

His eyes never leave your form in the mirror. With a deep breath, he approaches you, his voice soft and filled with love. "Hey, beautiful. What's on your mind?"

You startle at his voice, a mixture of embarrassment and sadness crossing your face. "Harry, look at me. I can't stand on my own. I feel so... broken."

You were struggling, really fucking struggling.

Harry kneels down beside you, his hands gently grasping yours. His gaze meets yours in the mirror, his voice filled with determination. "But look at everything you've overcome. You've faced unimaginable challenges, and yet here you are, still standing."

Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and self-doubt coursing through your veins. "I don't always feel strong, Harry. Sometimes, I feel defeated by my own body."

Harry's thumb strokes the back of your hand in a soothing motion. "I know it's not easy, and it's okay to have moments of doubt. But remember, you're not defined by what you can or can't do physically. Your strength shines through in countless other ways."

His words resonate within you, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your soul. You take a deep breath, allowing his words to wash over you. "I guess... I just miss feeling independent, like I used to."

Harry's eyes never leave yours, his voice filled with unwavering support. "You are independent, love. It may look different now, but that doesn't diminish your spirit or your worth. Remember the chorus of that song by Elton John? 'I'm still standing, yeah yeah yeah.'"

That was the song that was getting you through the hard days, the lyrics of the song reminded you that even though you had been through hell and back, you were in fact still standing.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as the lyrics echo in your mind. You meet Harry's gaze, a flicker of determination in your eyes. "You're right. I'm still standing, and I won't let this define me."

Harry's face lights up with pride, his voice brimming with admiration. "That's my girl. Together, we'll face anything that comes our way. We'll rewrite the rules and show the world just how resilient we are."

You lean into him, finding solace in his embrace. In his arms, you feel a renewed sense of strength and acceptance. With Harry by your side, you know that you'll navigate this journey together, overcoming obstacles with unwavering love and unwavering determination.

As the echoes of Elton John's lyrics fade into the air, you realize that standing on your own two feet is not just about physical ability. It's about resilience, love, and the unwavering spirit that resides within. And together, you and Harry are an unbreakable force, ready to face any challenge that comes your way, still standing.

Memories of the accident resurface, the one that left you with a broken leg, a few broken ribs, and scars that tell a story of resilience and strength. The pain you endured during those days in the hospital, the grueling physical therapy sessions, and the long road to recovery—all of it has shaped you into the person you are today.

The accident left you with a lot of scars and sometimes, you didn’t like how they were on your body, you didn’t want them, you shouldn’t have had them in the first place had it not been for the drunk driver that had struck you.

One time, Harry had caught you sitting in the wheelchair the hospital provided you with and was sitting in front of the floor length mirror, eyes wet and feeling disgusted with the way your body now looked.

Lost in your thoughts, you feel a comforting presence beside you. Your fiancé, the person who has been your rock throughout this entire journey, sits down, his eyes filled with love and concern.

"What's on your mind, love?" Harry asks gently, their voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to share your thoughts. "I've been thinking a lot about everything that's happened, about how far I've come since the accident. The fear I had of losing my ability to play the guitar, to perform on stage, has slowly transformed into a burning desire to reclaim what I love."

Your fiancé listens intently, their hand finding yours, providing a comforting anchor in the depths of your vulnerability.

"I think I'm ready," you continue, your voice filled with determination. "I'm ready to join you back on tour as your guitarist. I want to step back into the spotlight, to feel the exhilaration of playing for a crowd again."

A flicker of excitement dances in their eyes as they take in your words. "Are you sure, love? I mean, I've seen your strength and resilience, but I want to make sure you're ready for the demands and challenges of touring."

You had thought it over. So many times, you kissed touring with him and not being on stage with him in what felt like forever, you just wanted a little bit or norm back in your life.

You smile, your gaze meeting theirs. "I am sure. The accident made me realize that life is too short to let fear hold me back. I want to embrace every opportunity that comes my way, and being on stage with you is the greatest opportunity of all."

Your fiancé's face lights up with a mixture of pride and love. "I've always believed in you, in your talent and your unwavering spirit. I can't express how happy I am to hear you say this."

Their words fill your heart with warmth, and you lean in, your forehead resting against theirs. "I couldn't have done it without your love and support. You've been my rock, my inspiration. And now, it's time for us to conquer the stage together."

24th June, 2023.

The day you would be back on stage, and reclaiming your spot next to Mitch as Harry’s guitarists.

As you stand before the mirror in the dressing room, your heart pounds with a mix of excitement and apprehension. It's been seven long months since the accident, the incident that left you scarred physically and emotionally. But tonight, you're stepping back onto the stage alongside your fiancé, the incredibly talented man that held your heart captive.

You peel off your clothes, revealing the remnants of the past—a tapestry of scars that litter your body. Each mark tells a story, a chapter of pain and healing. Your fingers trace the scars delicately, memories flooding back with each touch.

Your fingertips glide over the long, jagged scar on your stomach, a reminder of the surgery that saved your life. It stretches across your abdomen, a visible testament to the fragility of existence. You can still recall the sterile scent of the hospital, the sensation of being under anaesthesia, and the sound of the surgeon's voice assuring you that everything would be alright.

As you trace the path of the scar, tears well up in your eyes. The emotions overwhelm you—the fear, the vulnerability, the gratitude for being alive. You hastily wipe away the tears, refusing to let them consume you. You don't want Harry to see you like this—fragile, still grappling with the remnants of the accident.

Taking a deep breath, you collect yourself and begin to change into the performance outfit meticulously chosen for tonight's show. With each article of clothing, you shed the emotional weight and don a cloak of resilience.

But it's not just the scar on your stomach that serves as a reminder. Your fingers move upward, skimming over the faint marks on your chest. They are the remnants of broken ribs, the physical proof of the impact that threatened to shatter your entire being.

As your fingers dance across the scars, a mixture of emotions swirls within you. You remember the excruciating pain that radiated through your chest, making each breath a struggle. The nights spent gasping for air, wondering if you would ever be able to play guitar again. And yet, here you are, on the verge of reclaiming that stage.

When you finally emerge from the room, you plaster a smile on your face, determined to project confidence. Harry turns to you, his eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"Hey, love, you look absolutely stunning!" he exclaims, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

You glanced down at what you were wearing, nodding softly. You had decided to wear short sleeves tonight due to the humidity of the Belgian air and had gotten Elin and Madi to cover up the scars on your arms with foundation, if you had to get through this performance tonight without a hitch, you needed to make sure the fans didn’t see the state of your arms.

It wasn’t second nature to the fans and the world that you had been the victim of a car accident, paps had eaten the story up and it wasn’t long before the world were all feeling sorry for you, and telling you ‘get well soon.’

It wasn’t second nature that the fans knew you and Harry were in a relationship. They were happy for him, some fans weren’t, some were bitter but the majority were kind hearted.

The fans knew not to expect you to be on stage for a while, they liked your replacement , you just hoped they didn’t resent you for reclaiming your spot.

"Thank you," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of nerves. "I'm so excited to perform with you again, sweet boy. It's been too long."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with adoration. "I've missed having you by my side on stage, baby. Tonight is going to be incredible."

When you first walked onto the stage with the rest of the band, the crowd cheered, happy to see you back.

You wanted to perform at Wembley when he was there but the 90,000 people just made your nerves too hard to get rid of.

It had gotten to the part of the show where Harry introduced the band helping him perform tonight.

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause, their cheers blending with the pounding of your heart.

Harry steps forward, his charm radiating as he takes hold of the microphone. "Thank you all so much!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Tonight has been incredible, and I want to take a moment to introduce you to the extraordinary people who make this show possible."

The spotlight shifts, illuminating each member of the band in turn as Harry introduces them, acknowledging their talent and contributions. The crowd roars with approval, showing their love and appreciation for the musicians who have taken them on this unforgettable journey.

"And last, but certainly not least," Harry says, his eyes glimmering with affection as he turns toward you, "I want to welcome someone very special back to the stage tonight. Please give a round of applause for my incredible fiancée, who's been through so much and is now here, shining brighter than ever. Welcome back, (Y/N)!"

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause once again, their cheers echoing throughout the venue. The sound washes over you, filling you with warmth and a renewed sense of purpose. Harry walks over to you, his smile radiant as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"I'm so proud of you, love," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. "You're incredible."

Touched by his words and the overwhelming support of the crowd, you turn to face the audience, a beaming smile adorning your face. You raise a hand in gratitude, acknowledging their cheers and the immense love they've shown.

The performance took a turn for the worst when Harry was performing Matilda.

As Harry takes the centre stage, his voice resonates through the venue, captivating the crowd with his heartfelt rendition of "Matilda." You stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder with Sarah, Madi, and Elin, proud to be part of his performance.

However, as the heat intensifies under the stage lights, the foundation covering the scars on your arms begins to melt away, slowly revealing the marks beneath. Unbeknownst to you, a group of fans standing in the front row notices the scars and begins to snicker and laugh, their insensitivity cutting through the air.

Caught off guard, you glance down at your arms, now exposed for all to see. Shame washes over you, accompanied by a deep sense of vulnerability. The laughter echoes in your ears, a cruel reminder of the pain you carry on a daily basis.

The song concludes, and as you go to step back, picking up your guitar, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of their laughter presses heavily on your heart, and without a second thought, you bolt offstage, seeking solace in the privacy of the dressing room.

You stumble through the corridors, your vision blurred by tears. Jeff, who was standing on the side stage, attempted to touch your arm and see if he could do anything but you bolted straight past him, too upset to even attempt to speak.

Finally, you reach the dressing room, the door becoming a barrier between you and the outside world. You lock it behind you, the sound of the latch giving you a brief sense of security.

Collapsing onto a chaise lounge, sobs wrack your body as you struggle to catch your breath. The pain of their laughter reverberates through you, and the scars that you've worked so hard to embrace now feel like glaring flaws. In this moment of despair, you feel utterly alone.

Through your tear-stained face, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The scars etched on your arms serve as a painful reminder of the journey you've travelled—a journey that has tested your resilience and strength. But at this moment, they seem to mock you, amplifying your vulnerability.

You don’t know how long you were sitting there.

But the panic that has gripped your chest refuses to subside, and the air feels thin, suffocating.

Amidst your distress, you hear Harry's desperate pleas from the other side of the door, his voice filled with concern and love.

"Please, love," he implores, his voice cracking. "Let me in. I need to be with you. I can't bear to see you like this."

You find it difficult to think, your mind clouded by fear and self-doubt. Harry's words echo in your ears, but a part of you hesitates, questioning whether you should expose him to your vulnerable state.

Yet, Harry persists, his voice growing more desperate with each passing moment.

"Please, just open the door," he pleads again. "I'll do anything to make this better. Just let me in."

As the minutes stretch on, your panic intensifies. The room feels smaller, the air heavier, and you begin to scratch at your arms, hoping to erase the scars that have become a constant reminder of your pain. The act is born out of frustration, a desperate attempt to regain control over your emotions.

But the more you scratch, the more the scars stand out against your skin, marking the battles you've fought and the strength you've shown. The pain intensifies, both physical and emotional, and your nails dig deeper into your flesh.

Finally, Harry's voice breaks through the chaos in your mind.

"Love, please," he pleads once more. "I can't stand being separated from you like this. Please, open the door."

His words penetrate your fog of panic, stirring a flicker of clarity within you. You realise that shutting him out would only deepen the isolation you feel. With trembling hands, you reach for the lock, slowly turning it until the latch clicks, allowing Harry to step into the room.

Harry rushes toward you, his eyes wide with worry, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. Your breath hitches as he embraces you, his warmth and steady heartbeat serving as an anchor amidst the storm raging inside you.

But as the panic continues to surge, your scratching becomes more frantic, fueled by the desperation to rid yourself of the scars. Harry's eyes widen as he notices your self-destructive actions, his heart aching at the sight.

"Stop, love," Harry pleads, his voice filled with a mix of concern and determination. He gently grasps your hands, restraining them from causing further harm. "Please, you don't need to do this. Your scars don't define you. They are a testament to your strength and resilience."

Tears stream down your face as you struggle to find your voice amidst the overwhelming emotions.

"Harry," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling, "the fans... they laughed at me. I feel so exposed, so broken."

Harry's hold on you tightens, his voice filled with unwavering support. "Love, never forget what Elton John said in 'I'm Still Standing.' 'I'm still standing after all this time.' We've faced adversity together, and we've triumphed. We won't let their laughter dim your light."

His words wash over you, reminding you of the battles you've fought, the hurdles you've overcome. In that moment, you realise that their laughter, though painful, is a reflection of their ignorance, not your worth.

As Harry's arms enfold you, a newfound resolve begins to take hold. You slowly cease

Your frantic scratching, your nails no longer leaving trails of desperation on your skin. Instead, you allow Harry's touch to calm you, to remind you that you are not alone in this struggle.

As you gradually regain control of your breath, Harry's soothing voice fills the room once again. "You are beautiful, inside and out," he assures you. "Those scars are a part of your journey, a testament to the strength that resides within you. They are not something to be ashamed of."

With each word, the weight of the fans' laughter begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of self-acceptance. You realise that their cruel taunts are not a reflection of your worth but a testament to their own insecurities and ignorance.

In that moment of revelation, you look into Harry's eyes, finding solace in his unwavering gaze. He pulls you closer, his embrace a shield against the world's judgments.

"You are loved," he whispers, his voice filled with conviction. "By me, by your fans, by all those who see the incredible person you are."

After the storm of emotions, Harry guides you to rest your head on his lap, finding comfort in his presence. He senses your need for warmth and reaches for a soft blanket that carries his familiar scent. As he carefully drapes it over your body, you feel an instant sense of security, as if his love and protection have enveloped you.

Harry pulls out his phone, his brow furrowed with concern. He dials Jeff's number, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of worry.

"Jeff, mate," he begins, "I need to talk to you. We can't continue with the show right now. (Y/N)s head is in a bad place, and she needs me here with her."

You hated letting the fans down as much as Harry did, but right now, you needed him, you needed him more than anything right now.

As he speaks, his free hand finds its way to your hair, his fingers gently running through the strands. The soothing motion sends waves of comfort through your body, easing the tension that had gripped your soul.

There's a brief pause as Jeff responds on the other end of the line. Harry's voice grows firmer as he continues, his protective instincts kicking in. "I know, Jeff, but she's my priority. We can't push her right now. She needs time and space to heal. I hope you understand."

You feel the weight of his determination, his unwavering commitment to your well-being. His words, spoken with conviction, serve as a reminder that you are not alone in this battle.

As the conversation with Jeff continues, your body begins to relax, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster setting in. Harry's touch and his voice lull you into a state of tranquillity, your eyelids growing heavy.

You listen to Harry's voice, a mix of concern and reassurance, as he explains the situation to Jeff. The sound of his voice becomes a soothing melody, guiding you towards much-needed rest. The world outside the dressing room fades away, and in that moment, it's just you and Harry, wrapped in a cocoon of love and understanding.

With Harry's presence anchoring you,drifting you into a peaceful slumber, your mind dances on the edge of consciousness. Harry's comforting presence lingers, filling the room with a sense of love and security. In the hazy realm between wakefulness and dreams, you hear his soft voice whispering.

"I love you," Harry murmurs, his words like a gentle caress against your skin. His declaration of love resonates deep within your heart, a reminder that you are cherished and adored.

In the quiet of the room, Harry's fingers trace the scars on your forearm from when you hit the ground and the skin collided with the concrete of the floor, resulting in a skin graft on both arms, with delicate reverence.

His touch is tender, his love evident in every stroke. With each pass of his fingers, you feel a mixture of vulnerability and acceptance, knowing that he sees beyond the scars and embraces every part of you.

Touched by his gesture, you shift slightly, gazing up at him through half-closed eyes. The love shining in his eyes mirrors the love you hold in your heart.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and in a soft voice filled with gratitude, you whisper, "I love you too, Harry."

His lips curve into a gentle smile, and without hesitation, he leans down to press a loving kiss against the scars on your arms. The warmth of his lips against your skin sends a rush of emotions cascading through your veins—a blend of love, acceptance, and healing.

In that tender moment, you realise that Harry's love is not conditional. It extends far beyond the physical, embracing the entirety of who you are—scars and all. With his unwavering support, you find the strength to embrace your own journey, to let go of the pain inflicted by others' judgement.

As Harry's lips leave a trail of love and reassurance upon your scars, you feel a renewed sense of self-acceptance. You understand that love has the power to heal, to transcend the wounds of the past. With each kiss, Harry affirms that you are worthy of love and that your scars are a testament to your strength.

In the warmth of his embrace, you feel a newfound sense of peace settle within you. The doubts and insecurities that plagued your mind are replaced with a quiet confidence, knowing that you are loved unconditionally.

One thing was for sure though.

Just like the legend that is Elton John Said:

I’m Still Standing.

In fact you were standing better than you ever had, with the support of friends and family and the one man you don’t think you could ever stop loving.

You were starting to look like a true survivor, and not so much a little kid when you got overwhelmed looking at the scars on your arms from the impact of the accident.

“I’m Still Standing…” you whispered , voice slightly scratchy.

Harry smiled, letting out a small sniffle, “— yeah you are baby…yeah you are.”

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