(A/N: If you haven't read "The Reunion" SMAU on my twitter (tomlingrin) it might be hard to follow but here's the first chapter. The screenshots are actually from the SMAU itself as it's following the timeline from there)

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There had been a significant amount of warning before the news dropped, and even with the weeks of mental preparation, there wasn't any amount of time to prepare for the reality. There was less than a 24-hour time frame before there was no choice other than to stand in front of the man he left in his wake five years ago. There hadn't been a single day, hour or minute that his brain wasn't plagued by the haunting image of cerulean filled with waves of salty tears. The cracked voice that whispered for him to stay, and the lingering feeling of calloused fingertips gripping his wrist; attempting to anchor him and make him stay. The name still left an acidic taste in his mouth and burnt his oesophagus. It's the same name that spreads that awful feeling of rage, heartbreak and sadness through his veins, surging at full speed to every corner of his soul. It had been five years since he had seen him face to face and had never witnessed the physical damage of his actions. And even with the weeks of accepting it was coming.... he wasn't ready.

The August heat was finally beginning to drop, although the high humidity still lingered; thick and threatening to furl around his neck and strangle him. The mixture between the unbearable heat and the swarming panic was a recipe for disaster. The only relief was the rain that fell heavily against his skin; offering a temporary wash of coolness to battle his heat exhausted skin. Although stuck in his own thoughts and relishing in the momentary peacefulness of the rain, Harry could hear his manager yelling from the safety of the plane, telling him to keep dry and not make himself sick.

"You are responsible for maintaining balance in this world, so if you don't mind. Can you get your ass inside the plane and stop letting yourself get pelted by the rain?" The voice shrieks and Harry closes his eyes. He tilts his head backwards, face illuminated by the dull sky and droplets splatter onto his face. Harry holds his arm out, welcoming the cold gusts of wind and near-frozen droplets of water, lips turning in the corners into a suppressed grin. "Are you insane?!"

There are only approximately 20 more seconds of becoming more drenched by the rains increasing force until he feels a pair of arms wrap around him and (too) forcefully pull him into the dry, warm safety of inside the plane. Harry doesn't say a word, but rather pulls off his now wet coat and drops it to the floor, casually glancing towards his scowling manager and then turns on his heel towards his designated spot towards the back of the plane. Once seated in his chair, body completely sunken into the soft leather and eyes trained on the onslaught of rain on the outside of the plane, he feels the vibration of his phone in his pocket. And this wouldn't have caused a second of stress on any other day, except he was fairly sure he knew what it was. He was waiting for the moment the news broke and was waiting for the reaction of the world and the fans; the same fans that thought it was supposed to be 18 months. And it originally was supposed to be. It had been organised and planned for it to be a complete hiatus from the spotlight, writing and touring and give them a well-deserved rest after being non-stop for 5 years. Except 18 months had turned into 5 years, and it was no one's fault but his own. The others, Niall and Liam, had reached out trying to make something happen but most of the time the calls or texts were left unanswered. Because he knew the conversation would happen, the conversation of the question's he has dodged for 5 years.

It was clear they knew what had happened because Louis would have told them everything. Why wouldn't he? He has every right to tell the others why their career as a band was not going to continue. The only issue is that they've only heard it from Louis' side, and not once from Harry's. And Harry wasn't prepared to talk about it, and he won't ever talk about it. Because some things are better off left in the dark.

Even though his brain has replayed the scenario over and over again, on a loop and unable to stop, having to vocalise it always made him near a breakdown. There were times where he tried to build up the courage to talk about it, he hadn't made it far. Endless nights pacing his room in the pitch black, hours away from the sunrise and repeating his explanation didn't do anything, because he always ended up throwing his whiskey glass and shattering it. Or he'd just drink into oblivion, but he had done his best to project his feelings into something else. And that's where the debut album Harry Styles came from. Released on May 12 2017, and although it was an exciting time, there was also fear for the response. Because this album was basically him giving his own journal to the world to witness and it could have easily backfired, but it didn't. It went platinum and things were okay, and then he started to think maybe he could do this.

He started to think he didn't need to lean on the others for help, and that his own pain could be used to gain a hold on himself again. And that's how the drunken nights turned into endless writing sessions in a never-ending supply of moleskin journals. The touring started and he felt like those broken pieces with jagged edges were smoothing out; they didn't stab but they were never whole and healed despite the feeling of slight content starting to fill his life again.

And he had taken time off social media because he didn't need that reminder. The last thing he wanted to do was log in, read about the "conspiracies" about he and Louis and he most definitely did not want to see Louis and Eleanor plastered on every news article. Because that was the biggest slap in the face. He'd check though, time to time he wanted to see what he was up to; hoping that the break-up article was finally out and that maybe those nights where he stared at his phone waiting for a call would end. But it never came; it was always a blank lock screen, journals with messy scrawl and tearful unsent voicemails. There was a time where he thought maybe Louis would respond to the clear message of his album, especially when the rumours circulated that Louis was in the studio.

There was the idea that maybe Louis had sat down and listened to the whole album and god Harry hoped it hurt him. He hoped the lyrics shredded him from the inside out and left him with a gaping hole in his chest and shaking hands, and he hoped that Louis cried and regretted everything. And yeah that was petty, but Harry wanted Louis to feel every aspect of the excruciating agony that he went through all because of Louis' own selfishness. And when Louis never made a direct or even an indirect response and it was radio silence and more public appearances with Eleanor, Harry hit the books again.

He wanted to reach out, and he wanted Louis to fucking know that he's not over it and that he wanted an explanation. So then there were months again of writing between tour dates, and drunken nights scrawling unintelligible words and images on blank pages and then Harry broke the silence.

It was a voicemail that was supposed to be unsent but his own drunken fingers accidentally pressed send and that's when it all really started to go haywire. Because then there was a break up, and Harry thought it was fine. He thought Louis would finally reach out, but it never happened. So naturally, that's when the second album was released. It also just so happened to coincidentally be at the same time rumours that Eleanor and Louis were reuniting. In return, Harry had a temporary lapse in sanity and lost it. He really lost it.

But it was only a few months until Louis actually responded, and Walls was finally released. Harry spent 3 days in his hotel room, playing it over and over. Listening to each lyric, heart aching and body screaming to pick up the phone and call. To swallow his pride and tell Louis he was sorry but he wasn't. He wasn't going to give in because he didn't need to apologise. And that apology was never coming.

And now here he was, on a flight to Los Angeles to reunite with the band he promised he left behind. The turning point was when he was notified privately about Zayn's appearance, and Harry wasn't entirely sure how James Corden had organised that, but it was happening. And if Zayn can come back and do a segment, then surely Harry can. So yeah, there was a lot of mental preparation behind this but truthfully Harry wasn't ready to face it. He wasn't even sure how his body would physically react to being in the same room as Louis Tomlinson. Not after everything and especially not after all this time.

But it was too late now.

Because as he unlocks his phone and checks the notification, there it is. The cats out of the bag and they are reuniting, and there's nothing he can do about it.