Hits Different (from the Flatmate series)
...in which Harry goes to the club while his flatmate goes on a blind date.
Word count: 2.6k
Inspired by Taylor Swift’s unreleased song “Hits Different”
___♥___
The muffled club music was still thrumming in Harry’s ear as he splashed his face with cold water. He stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror. Jesus, had he been looking like this all night long? His eyes were red and his hair suggested that he’d either just had sex or just got out of bed five minutes ago. Neither of that was true. He’d been living off of coffee for the past few days because of the exam season, and he really wished he was having sex right now instead of hiding in the loo, suffocating from the smell of urine and vomit.
The door swung open all of a sudden and Niall rushed in, face taut with worry. “Mate, you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry murmured as he washed his hands under the running tap. Niall looked the opposite of him – so clean and sober, with his hair neatly pushed back, and his white polo shirt made him look like he’d just gone golfing. Harry looked even more of a mess now with Niall’s reflection behind him in the mirror.
“You sure you’re alright? We’re worried about you,” Niall indeed looked worried.
But before Harry could deflect the accusation that he might not be alright, Layla walked in, wearing a silver sequin dress that made her look like a mirrorball. Layla always treated the club like her Met Gala as it was her way of manifesting an invitation for the event in the future. But seeing Niall and now Layla made Harry feel even more like shit.
“Harry, are you taking drugs?” she asked, eyes wide.
“What? No.” Harry scoffed, frantically pushing his hair back. “Why? Do I look like I’m on drugs?” A pause. “Wait, what are you doing in the men’s room?”
Layla ignored that as she pushed past Niall to grab Harry and started fixing his hair and shirt.
“I think we should take him home, Layla,” Niall said.
“No, we agreed to go out tonight, so we’re gonna have a great time,” Layla said while aggressively tugging at Harry’s sleeves to straighten them.
“He’s clearly drunk,” Niall breathed. “We should take him home.”
“Why are you guys talking about me like I’m not here?”
“He’ll get over it,” Layla told Niall as she stepped back and looked at Harry, satisfied with her work. “He’s just being dramatic.”
“I’m the dramatic one?” Harry gasped. “Said the shiniest girl in the club.”
“At least I’m not being emo in the toilet because my crush is on a date.”
“I don’t have a crush on Y/N.”
“Denial is a river in Egypt.”
“Layla, give him a break.”
“Let’s get back out there,” Harry said, not wanting to argue with Layla right now. Besides, they were finally playing a song he knew.
___♥___
Oh, my, love is a lie
Shit my friends say to get me by
It hits different
It hits different this time
Catastrophic blues
Movin' on was always easy for me to do
It hits different
It hits different 'cause it's you
As it turned out, Harry hated that song. It was the one Y/N had sent him earlier this week on Whatsapp, and he only listened to it because she loved it. Now they were playing it in this bar and it made him chug down more pints than he could count, and by the time he’d made it out of the club, his knees were wobbly and his head spinning.
Layla threw her big coat on, and Niall shivered in his trench coat, but Harry, with only his jumper on and alcohol flooding in his blood streams, was not affected by the October chill.
I wonder what Y/N is doing right now.
“Bet she’s having a better night than us,” Layla muttered, and Harry realised he’d said that aloud.
“Layla, don’t say that.” Niall put an arm around Harry to help him stand. “Let’s get you home, Harry.”
“Can we pick up Y/N?”
“We don’t know where she is.”
“I’ll text her.”
“Don’t you dare.” Layla snatched the phone out of his hand before he could even unlock it. “The only night that Y/N gets to not be boring and you’re plotting to ruin it for her. Also, you’re being very selfish right now, mentioning her when you’re with us.”
Harry felt his stomach churn. “Do you think she’s having fun?”
“Well, obviously. She would have texted you if she wanted to leave the date. She might meet someone who’s perfect for her and fall in love and live happily ever after with him–”
Before Layla could finish painting that picture, Harry braced his hand on the wall beside him. He heard Layla scream as vomit pooled beneath him, staining his shoes, his stomach clenching in pain. Niall’s voice was muffled, though Harry could feel Niall’s hand rubbing his back.
While the taste of vomit passed down his tongue and filled him with shame and regret, the memory of tY/N getting ready for her blind date stormed back into his head, and when he thought about another man touching her, the second torrent of sludge exited mouth.
“These boots are vintage!” Layla screeched. Harry feared that she’d start crying, but instead, she just smacked him with her purse, knocking him onto the ground.
Through his fluttering eyelids, he could see how scared Layla was because she hadn’t expected him to fall. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t hit him that hard; it was his legs that decided to give in, and so he sat on the pavement, head against the cold brick wall.
This felt too comfortable, he thought, eyes pinched shut. Maybe he should just stay here…
___♥___
“Is that a new hat?”
“Yup, just got it from a charity shop,” Y/N said as she studied her reflection in her full-length mirror. Harry stood in her doorway, a piece of toast in hand, chewing as he watched her. Y/N rarely got dressed up, so when she did, it was extremely noticeable. It wasn’t really because she thought she was too cool for all those girly things, but she’d once told him that she felt like putting on something nice would draw attention to herself and she hated that. Now she was wearing a new knitted hat and a bright blue trench coat that she’d worn once for a book club event.
She wanted to get someone’s attention.
Not another gay neighbour, Harry hoped.
“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to act casual as he leaned a shoulder against the doorframe.
She paid him no attention and kept on trying to pick out a lint from her cream knitted hat. “Oh, just this blind date that Sian set me up on.”
“What? Blind date with whom?”
Now she finally turned around to face him. “Harry, it’s called a blind date for a reason. I don’t know who I’m going to meet.”
“Okay, that sounds safe,” he said sarcastically. “Who’s this Sian and why do they want you killed?”
“Sian is my boss.”
“At the student office? Isn’t she like thirty?”
“It’s with one of her cousins, I think.”
“Hmmm, still sounds sketchy to me,” Harry said as he took a huge bite of his toast and started chewing aggressively. “Do you want me to go with you? Just to be safe.”
“No, Harry, I would prefer not to have you on my date with me.”
“I’ll just be in the background. If he turns out to be a decent guy, I’ll go away.”
Y/N tilted her head and gave him a look that said ‘Really?’ sarcastically, of course.
“Please?” He didn’t know what else to say.
“You don’t see me asking to go with you on your dates!” said Y/N.
“That’s because I know who I’m going on a date with?” He laughed dryly. “Also, my ‘dates’ aren’t actual dates. It’s just sex.”
“Said that to all the girls who came up to me to ask why you ghosted them.”
“Well…” He thought for a moment. “I didn’t have feelings for them, so it was better to rip the bandage off.”
Y/N let out a laugh, but he didn’t think she found it funny. “I’m not getting relationship advice from someone who switches out his Barbies and skips town like an asshole outlaw.”
“Hey!” he said. “But I like that…asshole outlaw.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and sat down at her desk to start doing her makeup. Harry guessed it was his cue to leave, but he didn’t want to just give up like that.
“I’m not giving you relationship advice,” he said.
“Oh, you’re still here,” she sighed, her back still turned to him.
He went on anyway. “I’m just saying that it’s not safe to go on a blind date in London. People get stabbed left and right in this hell hole.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, if he turns out to be a creep, I’ll text you.”
That sounded more reassuring, but not exactly what Harry wanted to hear. “Okay,” he breathed. “Keep me updated. Stay safe.”
“I’ll get condoms.”
“Ew, I did not ask for that information.” Why did she have to say that? Now all he could think about was her having sex with this stranger?
Y/N glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m just kidding. I’ll go slow. I’m a relationship type of girl, Harry.”
“Good…to know.” He awkwardly nodded. “I’ll leave you to do your thing.”
“Thank you. Shut the door on your way out, please.”
He rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.
___♥___
“She was very excited about her new hat,” he murmured.
In his daze, he heard Layla ask, “What?”
“Y/N got a new hat. I should’ve complimented her.”
“Are you seriously crying over a hat?”
“I’m not crying.” He sniffled. “I’m just…cold.”
“Do you want my coat?” asked Niall. He loved Niall. Niall was cool.
Harry blinked up at the blurry outlines of his two friends, backlit by the pink neon light of the club. Layla looked like a disco ball now and he found it amusing.
“I want to go home with Y/N,” he slurred, thinking he sounded quite robotic.
“Our Uber should be here in five minutes,” Niall reassured Harry while pulling him back to his feet. “But we’ll have a conversation about this when you’re sober.”
“About what?”
“About the fact that you don’t want to admit you’re in love with Y/N.”
“No, I’m not…” It took him a moment to get the words out, “I mean, if I was capable of love, she’d be the only one that I love. But since I’m not, I’m…not.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It kinda is,” Layla chimed in. “Love is a lie, anyway. Also, you’re always whining about needing your own space. You and Y/N would never work.”
“Layla!”
“What? I’m trying to talk some sense into him. I think he just wants her because she doesn’t want him and he has a massive ego.”
“I’m still here.”
“Yeah, and I said what I said,” Layla told him. “Besides, moving on is always easy for you to do. You’ll forget about Y/N the next time you lay eyes on a hot girl.”
Harry would like to say that it wasn’t true, but maybe Layla had a point. He knew his nature, and Y/N didn’t deserve someone like that.
“I’m a relationship type of girl, Harry.”
They said when it’s right, you’ll know, but nothing had ever felt so wrong. He supposed the real reason he was so upset was because Y/N seemed to know what she wanted, and he didn’t. In his head, he was cursing the space that he needed and the doubt that he had for himself. If he just knew what he wanted–
“Our Uber is here,” Niall said as a black car pulled over in front of them, headlights blinding.
He heard Layla say, “Let’s stop inviting him out.”
He wanted to tell her to stop talking about him when he was right here, but now that he was in the comfortable backseat instead of the pavement, sleep quickly enveloped him.
___♥___
Dreams.
Harry was dreaming. Well, he must be, because just a moment ago, he was in the Uber with his friends, and now he was sitting on the sofa with Y/N and it was morning again. He felt fine, not a single drop of alcohol in his system. She was wearing her joggers and a massive hoodie. While she perused the book in her hands, the sun from the window behind her made it look like she was made of light, and he sat and stared.
For the first time, it felt so simple. He knew what he wanted, and it was to hold her for a while and tell her how much he loved her hair, her stare, and her sense of belief in the good in the world and, well, in him.
It was the sound of the key turn in the hallway that made him start awake. The room was dark and he was covered in sweat. Was she at the door? Was she okay?
No, just his neighbour coming home.
And so he sat there with his head in his hands, wishing he could go back to the dream.
“You’re alive.”
The voice made him jump. Y/N stood by the kitchen door, backlit by the kitchen light, looking just like she had in his dream.
“When did you get home?” he asked, catching his breath.
She seemed amused by his reaction. “Before you. Niall and Layla dropped you off.”
Fuck.
“Did they say something to you?”
“Nope. Oh, Layla did mention you’d need to pay for her vintage shoes, though. I saw what you’d done to them.” She made a face. “I assume that would cost you a whole month of night-outs.”
Harry kneaded his temples to ease away the headache while trying not to make eye contact with her. The last topic he would want to discuss now was Layla. “How was the date?”
“It was alright,” she said and sat down beside him. “He was nice.”
He glanced at her. “And?”
She shrugged. “Friends vibe.”
Harry had to fight the urge to punch the air and start dancing in circles around the room. With a straight face, he said, “That sucks.”
“Oh, well, I’m not giving up that easily. I’ll meet someone,” she said with a smile as if she knew something that he didn’t, and Harry didn’t like that at all.
“Go shower. You stink,” she said and stood up.
If she thought he would let this end so easily, she didn’t know him at all.
“Wait.”
“Hmm?”
“You said…friends vibe. Was it…like you and me?”
It took her a few seconds to process the question. “No.” She shook her head. “Nothing like you and me. I don’t know…we’re different.”
“How different?”
“Sometimes, I want to strangle you. Other times, I like being around you.” And when she saw the look he was giving her, she went on, “You do have a lot of redeemable qualities, Harry. You’re like a likeable villain.”
Likeable or not, Harry didn’t want to be a villain. The villain never gets the girl.
“Nah, I’m the main guy.”
Her lips curled. “The type that should be killed off but lives?”
“Yeah, an anti-hero. You wouldn’t want me killed. I could still melt your world, not like those boring Ken dolls out there.”
“See, whenever you say things like that I want to strangle you,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Good night, Harry.”
Harry said nothing as he watched her walk away. His argumentative, antithetical dream girl.
___♥___
"Hits Different"
I washed my hands of us at the club You made a mess of me I pictured you with other girls in love Then threw up on the street Like waiting for a bus that never shows You just start walkin' on They say that if it's right, you know Each bar plays our song Nothing has ever felt so wrong
Oh, my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different It hits different this time Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different It hits different 'cause it's you
('Cause it's you)
I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost Rip the band-aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw Freedom felt like summer then on the coast Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings And I never don't cry (And I never don't cry) at the bar Yeah, my sadness is contagious (My sadness is contagious) I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car I stopped receiving invitations
Oh, my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different It hits different this time Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different It hits different 'cause it's you
('Cause it's you)
I find the artifacts, cried over a hat Cursed the space that I needed I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' You were the one that I loved Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief In the good in the world, you once believed in me And I felt you and I held you for a while Bet I could still melt your world Argumentative, antithetical dream girl
I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway Is that your key in the door? Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away
Oh, my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different (It hits different) It hits different this time Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different (It hits different) It hits different 'cause it's you
Oh, my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by 'Cause it's you Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different (Yeah) It hits different 'cause it's you
