A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to @UnicornBaeLuv Thank you for all your supportive/funny comments!

This is the last "past" chapter! From here on out the focus will be on the "present."

This part takes place six months after H & L and the band split up. I didn't write a chapter about the band splitting because a lot of that info is slowly revealed through Darby's interviews in the "present."

HARRY / PAST

By the time the band split up I was numb. I'd already lost everything that mattered to me.

I was marooned at the InterContinental Hotel in New York, unable to go back to L.A. or London, anyplace where I'd once shared a home with Louis.

The curtains were drawn and my phone and the T.V. turned off. Everything reminded me of Louis. The only place I was safe was in bed asleep, in a deep, deep sleep, where I couldn't dream or if I did I wouldn't remember it.

After our last concert, Liam stayed behind in New York with me and Zayn went back to London with Louis. We were still fighting over Niall. He left us both for L.A.

It had been ages since I spoke to anyone besides my mum and Liam but my new manager thought it would be a good idea to do a splashy profile in a magazine to maintain my image. I was given a list of publications and journalists to choose from, but I didn't recognize any of the names. I suggested the name of the one journalist I did know personally: the young woman from Rolling Stone. My manager thought she was too green but I didn't trust anyone else and gave him an ultimatum, either Darby Rose did the piece or no one did.

We were supposed to meet at a café two blocks from the hotel. I found a wrinkled plaid shirt at the bottom of my suitcase and a pair of faded blue skinnies. My hair was greasy and I looked a bit pale. I hoped she wouldn't notice and if she did that she would be kind enough not to write about it.

I was about to head out the door when I got a reminder on my phone. I recognized from the lowercase letters and punctuation that Louis had typed it. He must have added it to my calendar months ago when were still together. reminder: I luv u !!!!

I collapsed onto the bed. I felt a chill, like a ghost had just passed through me. The only thing worse than remembering how we broke up was remembering how great everything was before it happened. It hurt to lie in bed and think about it but I didn't know how to function in the world without crumbling under the weight of this sadness. I was completely paralyzed.

I must have drifted off to sleep because my phone rang and when I woke up I saw that four hours had passed.

It was my manager. I'd missed the meeting. Darby was waiting in the lobby holding out hope that I'd still show.

"I can reschedule, or put you two up in a conference room?"

I groaned. I didn't want to go anywhere and I didn't want to put it off. If I didn't do it then I would keep procrastinating.

"Send her up to my room."

A few minutes later I heard a tentative knock at the door. "Come in," I squeaked, from under the covers.

Darby stepped through the door, eyes wide as she scanned the room and the squalor I'd been living in for months.

"Um, hello?"

She was wearing glasses and a graphic shirt with a navy cardigan, dozens of concert wristbands snaking up her arm. It's how I imagined Zayn would dress if he were a girl.

She glanced around for a place to sit but my crap was everywhere so she just sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled out her iPad, her glossy blonde hair slipping out messily from a low ponytail.

"Is everything okay?" she began. "If you're sick I can come back..."

"I'm not sick," I said. Before I could compose myself I felt a tear roll down the side of my face onto the pillow.

"Harry..."

"I'm fine. Ask your questions." I could hear my own voice distorted by the sobs I was holding back. It made me embarrassed so I turned away from her and onto my side.

"We're not going to do the interview. Do you want to talk? Off the record, I swear."

I believed her. She had an honest face. Broad with wide eyes and early worry lines, like she had been caring for broken hearts her whole young life.

"But the profile," I sniffed. "You're on a deadline."

"I'll figure something out. What's wrong?"

"I'm going through a bad breakup."

"Oh, I'm sorry... Did it just happen?"

I curled up around my pillow. "Six months ago."

"Six months ago! And you're still crying alone in the dark?"

She stood up and drew back the curtains. I covered my face with my arm and hissed like a vampire.

"Harry, you need sunlight and fresh air."

I was pretty sure I needed ice cream but okay.

She pulled me up to a sitting position. I wiped the tears off my face with the bed sheet.

"No one is worth crying over for six months," she said gently.

That wasn't true. Louis was. He was my whole world, I loved him more than anything and we were meant to be together! Maybe there would come a day when I would get over it, but I couldn't even picture what that day would look like. Right now it felt like I would be crying forever.

She studied me thoughtfully for a moment. "I guess it is harder to go through something like this when you're under so much scrutiny."

She must have assumed the person I broke up with was Kitty. I didn't correct her. There was a litany of rumors about why the band split up and one of the prevailing theories was that my rocky relationship with Kitty was the cause.

She sat on the edge of the bed. "This may be the understatement of the century, but you have a lot going for you, Harry. You can be happy if you want."

"How?"

"Well, for starters, you need to leave this room."

I considered it. I had been out to dinner with Liam a few times but all we talked about was Louis or the band and it made me feel worse not better. All my other friends were walking on eggshells around me. And it's not like I had anywhere to be. I was jobless and boyfriendless.

"Where would I go? What would I do?"

She covered half her face with her iPad. "I could take you out."

I kicked the covers off and wrapped my arms loosely around my knees. "What'd you mean?"

"We could get something to eat," she continued, "go to a show, walk around the city, whatever you want... What? You're looking at me like I have three heads."

"No, it's just that no one's ever asked me out before."

"Fuck you."

"I'm serious! Most girls just ask me to marry them or sleep with them."

"So, do you..." she paused, collecting her courage. "...want to go on date with me?"

"What if I said yes?"

"Then we would pick a day and time that's suitable."

"Any other customs I should be familiar with?"

She bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling. "Here in America the guy always puts out on the first date."

I laughed. "Oh, really?"

"Hey, I don't make the rules."

"Okay, I guess I'm free on Saturday. Though, I was going to stay in and re-watch The Notebook..."

"Done!" She added it to her calendar, which was cute. Not to be overconfident but I was pretty sure she would remember that she had a date with me.

"I'll pick you up at seven," she said.

"Cool. I'll wait downstairs. What kind of car do you drive?"

"Ha ha, you're adorable. I don't have a car. We're taking the subway."

"The subway," I mouthed. "I can't take the subway."

"Why the hell not?"

"It's dangerous! I'll be swarmed."

"Not if you act like you belong. Harry, I've seen pictures of you out and about in the city. You look like a lamb to the slaughter."

"So, I should change my look?"

"No, your attitude!" Darby packed up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. She leaned down and gave me a long warm hug. "Don't worry, I'll teach you. You'll be fine. I'm like 95% sure you won't die."

I hugged her back. She smelled nice.

"I'll see you Saturday," she said. "Remember: sunlight is your friend, and for the love of God don't watch The Notebook!"

***

On Saturday, Darby was standing outside my hotel at seven o'clock sharp. She was wearing cutoff shorts and a stripy button-down with her hair down and round sunglasses instead of eyeglasses. I was relieved she wasn't dressed up because I wasn't either. My faded KISS t-shirt was baggier than ever. I'd lost a ton of weight in the last few months. None of my clothes fit me right.

She smiled when she saw me and I felt instantly at ease.

"Hiya," I said. She handed me a small card. "What's this?"

"It's a Pay-Per-Ride Metro Card. There should be enough money on there to get you around today."

I slipped it into my back pocket and we started walking.

It was quite warm out. As I looked down at the sidewalk I felt the sun beating down on the back of my neck. I hoped I didn't get a sunburn.

After a couple blocks Darby turned to me and stopped dead in her tracks. "This is what makes you a target."

"What?"

"Don't look down like you're trying to hide something! If you want to blend it you have act like you belong out here, like everyone else."

"But people will recognize me."

"So what. Let them. If you panic, they'll panic. Just act like it's no big deal and they will too."

She was right. I held my head up and people took pictures and said hi but they otherwise left us alone, and the bigger the crowd the truer this was.

We ran downstairs to the subway. I'd never been on the subway in New York. I was already in the band during my first visit to the city, so there was no need.

Darby pulled out her metro card and went through the turnstile first. I dug around in my pockets for my own card but it was missing.

"Oh my god, I lost it. How do I pay? Is there a machine or a ticket booth?" I looked around frantically.

"Just jump over."

"Are you crazy? No!"

"Come on, it's no big deal, everyone does it."

"Peer pressure, nice."

"You can do this, Harry. Consider it a rite of passage."

"This is stealing. I'll get in trouble."

"I'll bail you out."

I pursed my lips, grabbed the turnstile on either side like pommel horse and threw my gangly legs over, nearly falling flat on my face.

Nothing happened. No one came after me.

"I did it," I breathed.

Darby was laughing so hard she was holding her sides. "Well, don't just stand there and wait to get caught. RUN."

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the platform, where thankfully a train had just approached. We pushed our way onto the packed car. I was sweating, but then so was everyone else. I was in a sea of unfamiliar faces, all of our bodies squished up against each other, swaying together as the train started and stopped.

If Louis saw me now he would have had a heart attack. He thought taxis were too dangerous for crying out loud! He always ordered from the same car service and even requested specific drivers that he knew and trusted to take me to and from appointments. Louis treated me like a china doll but Darby assumed I was tough, like her. I wasn't but it was nice that she had faith in me.

The first stop on our date was the MOMA. We walked through the glass doors and entered the museum's austere white lobby. I figured we would just walk around and look at paintings or something but Darby bought us tickets to the Bjork exhibit. I didn't listen to Bjork's music and I didn't really know what an exhibit about her would entail.

One piece was a video and music installation. We were ushered into a dark carpeted room with about thirty other people and asked to sit on the floor. A music video with the singer dancing barefoot on the mossy surface of a dormant volcano was projected on both sides of the space. The screens were showing different images, so Darby and I sat back to back. I got one view and she the other. I could feel her heart rate quicken as the song reached its crescendo.

The music video was weird but I liked it. I tapped Darby's shoulder. She whipped her head around and I was confronted with the light smattering of freckles on her nose. I'd never noticed them before.

"I like this song."

She exhaled. "Yeah, it's good."

She turned back around and her shoulders slumped. A second later I realized that she had probably been expecting me to kiss her.

I tapped her shoulder again. She turned around, a little slower this time.

"I like your freckles too."

I thought she would say something jokey back because that's kind of how we were with each other, but she eyed me very seriously and said, "I like you."

Damn, she was bold. Louis had teased me mercilessly for a year before he could admit that.

I wasn't sure what to do next, but by the time I figured it out the video was over and the lights went up.

The next stop on our date was dinner, or hotdogs to be precise. I bought a proper metro card and we headed over to Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Once we got to the park I found us a shady spot under a tree. Darby bought the hotdogs, and cotton candy. I thought the combination would be gross but it actually tasted pretty good. We finished eating and talked about music. She knew everything about the industry from the outside and I knew it from the inside. We had loads in common but because our knowledge didn't overlap there was never a lag in the conversation.

I wasn't sure if now was the right time to kiss her or even how to go about it. I wished I had just told her I liked her back at the museum. Here, in harsh light of day it was so awkward. I just sort of stared at her and smiled stupidly. "I like you," I said. "I should have said it before, when you said it. I ruined the moment."

A confession like that would have had Louis fawning over me instantly. Darby wasn't like that. I had to work for her affection.

She was waiting for something more.

I was smiling so hard now my cheeks hurt.

I leaned in and kissed her quickly. Her lips were pink and soft, inviting.

Then she leaned in and kissed me, only she wasn't so quick about it. I hadn't kissed a girl since I was fifteen and back then it was all teeth and fumbling. Darby knew what she was doing. She was confident and seductive, lingering playfully on my bottom lip.

It felt good but it also felt like a lot. I wasn't sure I was ready to be romantic with another person yet.

She sensed this and pulled back.

"It's okay if you're still sad, Harry."

It was nice of her to say but I felt like a failure. Why wasn't I over Louis yet?

"I was a fucking mess when my college boyfriend broke up with me," she added.

"Did you cry for six months?"

"No, but I think it's touching that you were so affected by this person. It means that you care deeply about people. That's a good thing."

I took a deep breath. "My ex cheated on me."

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry."

"I feel broken."

She wrapped her small arms around my shoulders and held me tighter than I thought possible.

"We'll fix you."

This was so comforting. It made me feel less alone. Everyone always said, "you'll get through it," or "you'll be fine," but no one ever said that we were in it together. The heaviness of the loss was lifted somewhat now that I didn't have to carry it all by myself.

The next stop on our date was Silent Barn in Bushwick. On the outside it looked like a colorful beaten up storefront, on the inside someone's shitty basement apartment. I didn't understand why she would take me here when there were so many famous acts playing all over the city in better venues.

They called it an "art-incubation space." Most of the acts weren't even real bands or musicians yet, they were just people trying to figure out their sound. Their sets weren't perfect, they made mistakes but nobody seemed to mind. Sometimes the crowd helped the performers when they got stuck.

One performer, a sandy-haired guy with an acoustic guitar was really good. He reminded me of Louis but in a way that didn't hurt. It just made me think about the music.

I was so engrossed by his performance I didn't notice that Darby had left my side to go up to the front of the room (there was no stage) and whisper something in his ear. She knew him. She seemed to know someone everywhere we went. It was the opposite of me: I was constantly confronted by strangers while she was approached by friends.

When the young man started playing again I didn't recognize the song at first and neither did anyone else. He'd completely changed the arrangement.

"Something Great," I whispered excitedly in Darby's ear.

She squeezed my arm.

Louis wrote this song for me, but to hear it sung by this other person in this completely different way made me think that anything was possible. A beautiful thing could be transformed into something just as beautiful. Maybe my love for Louis could be transformed into love for someone else...

As the next act began to play, Darby and I stepped out onto the pavement and leaned against the brick wall in the alleyway. I wished one of us smoked. I felt like I needed an excuse to want to talk to her constantly.

"I'd love to be able to do what he did in there," I said.

"You can!" she exclaimed. "The only difference between you and him is that the whole world will listen to you."

"The difference between me and him is that I can't write."

"Have you even tried?"

"A little bit. I've written on songs before."

"No, I mean just you, working on a song from start to finish."

"No."

She placed her hands against the wall on either side of me. "Do you know how many performers would kill to be in your position? If you want to write music, you have to write it, Harry. Not just for yourself but for all the people who will never get the chance to be heard."

Breathing hard I slipped my hand into her hair and kissed her. We switched places and I pressed her against the wall, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes as we kissed and kissed and kissed.

I had always been the person that people wrote songs about. I was Louis' muse for over four years. He wrote countless songs about me and I was happy to be his inspiration, until I met Darby. She inspired me to be creative and write songs of my own.

The last stop on our date was my hotel.

We had been holding hands. I let go and swiveled around to face her.

"Do you want to...?"

Darby shook her head. "You don't actually have to put out, Harry. I was just joking."

"Maybe you can come up anyway... I don't want to be alone."

"Okay, I guess we can watch a movie or something."

"The Notebook!"

"No, Harry. Just, no."

"Have you seen it?"

She linked an arm through mine as we entered the hotel. "Yes, in all its overwrought, melodramatic, kissing-in-the-rain, glory."

"That's my favorite scene! I guess that makes me more romantic than you."

She hopped into the elevator. "Oh, that's going in the profile for sure!"

"You promised you'd make me look good!"

"I said I'd make you look like yourself--a Notebook-loving, hotdog-eating, museum-going, singer/songwriter."

Songwriter. My stomach flipped with excitement. For the first time in a long time the future didn't look so bleak.

A/N: I know, I know, a chapter without Louis. It hurts. But I hope you found the change in Harry's character interesting.

Who do you think is better for Harry: Darby or Louis? Do you think Louis can redeem himself?

Next week I'm posting a Louis chapter! There will be smut.

Thank you all for reading!