When Harry returns home in the afternoon, he's greeted by an empty apartment.

He sinks down on the couch, head hurting and feeling tired and fed up.

Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn't it just be simple? Why couldn't he fall in love with the right person? Why did he have to be gay? Look where it had brought him. His own parents had disowned him, he had to let go of all his new friends, leave behind everything, every single thing that was dear to him. He had had to move away and come here to London, find a new life for himself, find himself a place for himself to stay, find a job for himself and just when things were beginning to settle down, just when he felt that maybe life wasn't so bad after all, just when he found himself his best friend, someone he could confide in, someone who stood by him through everything, someone who held him during his bad times, his nightmares, someone who laughed seeing him laugh, someone he knew genuinely cared for him, just when he had found himself this sweet, caring person, his stupid heart had to go ahead and ruin everything. His stupid heart had to fall in love with someone who could never feel the same way.

He walked slowly into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He needed it. He needed to find a way to escape from his thoughts.

A few, or many drinks later, Harry found himself sitting on the floor of his bedroom, his head resting back against the bed, eyes closed.

While the strong drinks had helped slow down his spinning thoughts, they still sparked and sizzled behind his closed lids.

His phone was buzzing.

Where was his fucking phone!?

Harry pulled the duvets and bedsheets off the bed in frustration, hunting for his phone and nearly slammed his head against the wall when he saw it sitting on the dresser, right in front of his eyes the whole time.

"Hello?"

"Harry? It's Natalie, I'll be below your apartment in like 10 minutes, you're ready aren't you?"

Fuck fuck fuck. He had completely forgotten about the whole Natalie thing. Fuck.

"Of course I'm ready, what do you expect?" He said words slurring together.

"Good because I've invited a good friend of mine to the bar, I'd like you to meet him."

Fuck.

Harry rushed around the apartment, throwing cold water on his face, while pulling on his pants, combing his hair and trying to eat a bowl of yogurt all together to try become more sober. The multitasking paid off because by the time Natalie called him to tell her she was here, Harry was ready.

He smiled warmly at her while they got into the car. He couldn't help but get rid of the feeling of dread that had settled deep down in his stomach.

They walked into the bar, Harry's eyes taking a few minutes to get adjusted to the flickering neon lights.

He remembered the time he was here to take Louis back home. He remembered how Louis fell into his arms, how beautiful he had looked with his feathery hair sticking up in little tufts and his eyes blue, very blue.

Sometimes life was cruel. Very cruel.

He pulled himself up onto one of the bar stools, resting his elbows against the polished, dark wood of the table.

"Strong. Something strong." he mumbled to the bartender.

Just when Harry had gulped down his drink, the burning sensation already making his head feel lighter, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, you must be Harry. Umm Natalie told me to come meet you.."

"Yes I did Harry, I'm sure the two of you will hit it off." Natalie smiled at the two of them.

Turns out that the guy Natalie wanted to introduce him to was called Ethan or something.

Harry remembered how Louis had called Lucas, Lucock and idly wondered what his nickname for Ethan would be.. maybe he'd call him Satan, the names sounded pretty alike anyway. He smiled to himself.

"I wanted to pick someone for you who looked completely unlike Louis" she whispered before leaving them alone and walking off somewhere.

Well she had certainly succeeded. This Ethan guy looked nothing like his Louis. He had blonde hair, dark, stormy grey eyes and was ridiculously tall.

He handed Harry a drink and smiled sweetly at him.

All Harry wanted to do was run. Run as far away from this place as he could. Run back to Louis and find his home in his arms.

But that was the whole problem. He couldn't. He couldn't run to Louis which was why he was here in the first place.

He wasn't even trying. Poor Natalie had worked so hard to help him with this and here he was wondering what Louis would call Ethan. He needed to atleast make a conscious effort.

So he smiled politely at Ethan, when he asked him if they could go dance and stood up, letting him lead the way.

His phone kept buzzing all this while but Harry ignored it.

Conscious effort.

The dancing soon escalated from some casual swaying to a lot of grinding and hip rolling against each other. Harry's first instinct was to push Ethan away but he fought it. He had to try.

Harry closed his eyes.

If he closed them tight enough, he could almost picture it to be Louis here with him instead.

And so when Ethan leaned in to kiss him, he didn't say no.

Harry simply allowed him to do as he pleased, eyes closed all this while.

Something was off. Something didn't feel right. But he had to try.

Louis will never feel the same. Never.

He kissed Ethan back, opening his eyes, his heart longing for a pair of blue eyes instead of the nearly black ones.

"My apartment is taken, can we go to your place?" Ethan whispered breathlessly.

Harry wordlessly nodded.

Author's Note

Please don't kill me...