PLEASE do an imagine where you and Harry get into an argument and he kicks you out of the car
“I just don’t understand what the big deal is.”
It was the first day you and Harry were out in public–well, after he had announced it via tweeting about it. And to say the least, he was more nervous than you were. After all, all of his last public relationships didn’t turn out as well as he thought, and the intense way he gripped your hand as he breaks for a traffic light tells you that he’s scared of losing you.
Which brings you to your current conversation.
Harry sighs exasperatedly, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead. His green eyes look tiredly over to you. “Y/N…” he says your name like he’s reading it off a death list. “All I’m asking you to do is to walk a block without me.”
You laugh mockingly, wrenching your hand out of his grasp. “When you say that, it sounds as if I’m some co-dependent, clingy child that won’t leave you alone,” you spit. “But the truth is this: you’re dumping me out onto the sidewalk and making me walk not one but three blocks in this designer dress–” you gesture down at your expensive Vera Wang dress that had almost cost you all of your savings, “–that I spent years saving up for, just for this event, I might add, and you’re just–”
“Three blocks isn’t even that bad,” he counters, trying to snatch up your hand again, and he grows more frustrated when he sees that you’ve crossed your arms across your chest. “You’ve gotta consider my perspective, and the media’s perspective.”
You smile and tip your head to the side. “Yeah, I considered it. Your perspective is that you’re too ashamed to be seen with me on the red carpet, and the media’s perspective is gonna be why an ugly girl like me can land such a heartthrob.”
“That’s not true,” Harry says quietly. He picks his next words carefully, “I…I just think that it would be better for me and the boys to show up together instead, because this is our first public appearance after the hiatus.”
“I understand that,” you say immediately, “but I don’t understand why I can’t ride the car with you guys and just step out the other way when you all step onto the red carpet.”
The light turns green but Harry doesn’t move. He turns to you instead and says, “Because everyone will be wondering why you didn’t step onto the red carpet with me–on the other hand, if you didn’t ride the car and instead showed up after me, that’ll–”
“Make them think we broke up!” You exclaim. “Is that a better alternative, Harry?”
“At least they won’t think we’re serious!” Harry yells at you.
And then you let out a cruel laugh. The car behind you honks impatiently, but all you can think about is how with every second that goes by, Harry isn’t correcting himself.
Finally, you ask, “Are we not serious?”
Again, your boyfriend is silent.
“Okay then,” you whisper, gathering your purse in one hand and pushing open the side of the car door with the other. “Have fun on your big, red carpet appearance,” you hiss. “I hope you smile for the pictures; after all, it’s the person viewing them that will be determining your future, right?”
A cry tears itself from the back of your throat. His jaw tightens. “I was just–”
“Get out of my car.”
You slam the door behind you before you have the chance to start crying. Mouthing an apology to the car behind you, you are quick to disappear into the alleyways Los Angeles. The sky is still bright enough for you not to be scared to be wandering a foreign city by yourself, and you’re so full with anger that you wouldn’t even mind if a stranger came up to you and threatened you with robbery.
Fine, you think to yourself, ripping off your silver necklace. Take it. You dig your nails into your palms when you feel the smooth satin of your dress. Take it all, you think to yourself. I don’t need any of it.
Tears are stinging the side of your eyes, and you can’t help yourself as you turn around…and see that nobody is there behind you. Harry isn’t following you. He let you walk out of his car, just like that.
Two years of your relationship…gone.
He must’ve thought your relationship truly started yesterday, when the public first found out about it. But in reality, you knew it started the day he took you back to Cheshire to meet Anne. When you cat-sitted for Gemma’s cats. When you held Niall’s golf bag for him when he and Harry had to use the loo.
But if your relationship had started yesterday, none of those things have happened yet.
All you were to him was a one-night-stand who wanted to walk the red carpet.
You can picture the headlines already.
‘Girlfriend’ Gets Abandoned By Styles: Publicity Stunt Or One-Night-Stand Gone Wrong?
“Take it off!” You scream, cries tearing your throat. Your sobs wrack your bones as you collapse onto the dirty ground and rip out the bobby pins that were holding your hair together.
Off comes the blister-enducing heels that you were willing to suffer through for Harry. Off comes the silver tiara hairband that Harry’s stylist had recommended, because you don’t feel like a princess.
You feel like a pauper.
Your dress tears as soon as your body hits the floor and this makes you sob even harder. All those extra shifts and second job you had to take up–gone. Vanished. Just like that.
This dress, the price for this dress, meant nothing to Harry. He could purchase a thousand of them without creating a dent in his bank account.
He had no idea how much this night meant to you–how much you were losing for him.
And how less he was willing to lose for you.