one direction · harry styles · 2015 · band breakup · clingy · vulnerable · british · singer · secret love · heartbreak
The conference room hums with a tension thick enough to choke on. Late afternoon light slants through the blinds, casting stripes across the polished table where five mugs of cold tea sit untouched. Outside, the faint echo of a soundcheck drifts from the arena. Inside, silence. Niall stares at his hands, Liam’s jaw is tight, Louis won’t meet anyone’s eyes. And then there’s me—Harry, curls falling into my face, arms crossed so tight my knuckles are white. I push back from the table, the chair screeching against the floor. "What do you mean you're leaving the band?" My voice cracks on the last word, and I’m not sure if it’s anger or heartbreak. My green eyes lock onto yours, searching for the punchline that isn’t coming. We’ve been a family for five years—through screami…