"You smell awful." Harry said, hoping it didn't stay inside his car long after Zayn got out.

He cracked all of the windows, looking at Zayn next.

"Yeah? What do I smell like?" Zayn asked, sitting back and closing his eyes.

"Cheap cologne, alcohol and weed." Harry said.

"Nice nose." Zayn commented quietly.

"Cheap cologne isn't mine, and I didn't even drink that much." Zayn was still trying to convince himself.

"Hm. So this is how these parties end, is it? Everyone wasted and stumbling out to their cars or passing out on the front lawn." Harry observed.

"Glad I never went to any of these." He muttered.

"I usually don't, I only came for Niall." Zayn said weakly.

"You say that as if you actually go to parties." Zayn added.

"I do. But the ones I go to are much different." Harry said.

"Fascinating." Zayn mumbled.

Harry sighed quietly, pulling away from the curb.

They rode in silence for a while as Harry tried to find his way out of the neighborhood.

"I hate myself." Zayn said, his head spinning now instead of his surroundings.

Harry glanced at him, feeling guilty for what he was about to do.

"Why?"

He wanted to try and figure Zayn out, and what better way than to question him when he's drunk?

Zayn swallowed, trying to keep his emotions somewhat tame.

"We could be here all night." He warned.

Harry pulled over, parking the car and turning it off. "I have nowhere to be."

"I do but I guess the damage is already done." Zayn said.

"Why do you hate yourself?" Harry asked.

"Have you seen me?" Zayn asked, eyes still closed and his head still leaned back.

Harry looked over his features in what light they had. "A few times, sure."

"A few times?" Zayn repeated.

"Yeah. I think there are only a few times I've truly seen you. The rest was just seeing the defense you put up." Harry said.

His words poked at a part of Zayn he didn't know anyone else could reach, and that made him very uncomfortable.

"I don't have a defense, you don't know what you're talking about." Zayn said, making Harry smile knowingly.

"Okay. So, go on." Harry said.

Zayn sighed again. "This isn't who I am. I don't go out and make an idiot of myself in public, getting so torn up I can barely walk and making out with strangers. It's disgusting and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for being so angry, and sad, and confused, and cold. I hate it."

Harry listened closely, watching him.

Zayn slowly licked his lips. "Tonight is just the tip of the iceberg. Just a fraction of the reason why I hate myself. Too much salt or pepper on the meal that is my regret."

Harry's eyebrows inched closer together with interest.

"You make it sound like it's the end of the world. Each new day is a chance to start over, you know." Harry said.

"I guess it is when you can afford it." Zayn muttered.

"I'm not talking about money." Harry said.

"I know."

There was a silence.

"So why did you just-"

"Forget it."

"...Okay. So what other reasons do you hate yourself for?" Harry asked.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"You're going cold again." Harry said, hoping that would change his mind.

"You don't care." Zayn said, suddenly opening his eyes and staring at Harry.

"Why are you asking all of this? Just for shits and giggles?"

"No, I-I do care-"

"Fucking liar." Zayn muttered.

"I'm not a liar! I care because....I can relate." Harry decided to share.

"Sure you can." Zayn said sarcastically.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I have the same struggles you do? I hate myself too, you know."

"Why?" Zayn asked loudly, looking at him. "Don't get me started."

"Tell me." Harry demanded.

"You drive to school in expensive cars, the outfits you wear each day cost more than my rent each month. You do nothing but smile all day unless something doesn't go your way, and check your reflection every chance you get. You certainly don't seem to be struggling or hating yourself." Zayn said.

Harry stared at him, smiling a little. "I expected more from you, Zayn. Especially after what you've told me tonight."

"What?" Zayn frowned.

"I can't believe someone like you is judging me just off of what you see. I've told you before that you don't know me. Wealth doesn't equal happiness. It doesn't cure mental health problems. I mean....at least it doesn't for me. I'm sure if you lacked enough depth money would solve all of your problems." Harry said.

"Don't tell me that's how you are."

Zayn chuckled. "Well, the fact that I don't have a lot of money has never made me happy so I think if I were to be...suddenly blessed with financial stability I would be pretty happy. I would feel better. I know I wouldn't worry as much, and I wouldn't be so depressed or feel so guilty all the time."

"Guilty?" Harry repeated.

"My mom works all the time and won't let me get a job to help out." Zayn shared, feeling like he shouldn't have said that.

"Oh." Harry said quietly.

"Yeah. Drives me insane." Zayn admitted, his lack of sobriety playing a big part here.

"I want so much for her but I can't give it to her. Every day I think about all the things I want to do for her and how I can't and probably never will be able to. It never leaves me alone. That, and...." He trailed off, taking a deep breath.

"Other things." He decided to say instead of going into detail.

"I'm sorry." Harry said.

Zayn shrugged it off, thinking for a moment.

"Why do you hate yourself?" He decided to ask, blinking his blurry vision away and looking at Harry.

"I can't talk about it." Harry said, looking away.

"Why not? If I'm so wrong about who you are, show me the real you." Zayn challenged.

Harry gave a half-hearted chuckle, looking down at his knees. "I buried the real me a long time ago."

"You got a shovel in the trunk?"

Harry looked at him, and Zayn smiled a little.

"Why do you want to know? A-About the real me or whatever." Harry asked.

"I don't believe that you truly hate yourself like I do. It's just hard for me to see you as someone who struggles like me." Zayn said.

"Well it's not my job to prove it to you. It took me years to perfect this personality and composure, and every now and then I still lose it. I'm not going to risk breaking it all down just to prove to you that I hate myself." Harry said coldly, not realizing what he said until it was too late.

"Wait, so it is all an act. I was right." Zayn said, staring at him.

"No, I just...act a little happier at school than I really am. That's all." Harry said.

"That's still acting. Why do you act? Why can't you just be yourself?" Zayn asked.

"Because I hate myself." Harry said, making eye contact.

Zayn frowned. "I don't get it. Did you murder someone in the past? Why do you hate yourself? Whoever you are."

"Too much to go into." Harry said dismissively.

"I just don't see-"

"Yeah there's a lot you don't see, Zayn. There's a lot you would see if you looked close enough and listened. But you're often too busy bitching about something." Harry said.

"You're right." Zayn shrugged.

"But I was going to say I don't see why you would hate yourself."

Harry looked at him. "What do you mean? Because I have money?"

"No I meant...well, you have tons of friends that seem to care a lot about you, and I.....you seem pretty um, decent I guess." He struggled.

"They don't care about me. They care about my money." Harry said sadly, having figured that out a long time ago.

"So according to you I guess all I have left is my decency." Harry said.

"No, I-I said decent but I meant that you seem um, you know, like...nice. I guess. Maybe behind your act." Zayn said.

"There's nothing nice about what's behind my act." Harry said quietly, looking at his lap.

Zayn stared at him for a moment, his curiosity spiking.

"I want to see it. Not nice things are kind of what I'm all about."

"Oh please, you try to seem that way but it's obvious that's not true." Harry chuckled.

"Like that time we dissected those piglets in biology. You left the room because you claimed you were pissed about something but I know that hurt you. Having to cut into them." Harry smiled.

"Whatever. Just..what would it take for you to show me what's behind your act?" Zayn asked.

Harry's smiled faded. "Nothing. I told you it's best left alone."

"So you never act like yourself? Truly like yourself around anyone?"

"No. I would have to really care about someone for me to be comfortable enough to...do that." Harry admitted, starting to feel shaky.

"What about your boyfriend?" Zayn asked.

Harry shook his head, looking away in shame.

"Really? You've been dating him for how long and he's never even seen the real you?" Zayn chuckled.

"It isn't funny." Harry mumbled.

"Every time he tells me he loves me I want to slit my throat."

Zayn's smile vanished, and it was as if he was jerked into sobriety all of a sudden.

Like a face full of icy water.

"Why?" Zayn managed to ask, still shocked.

"Because he's in love with someone I'm not." Harry said, starting to cry.

"But I can't show him who I am because he wouldn't get it. He doesn't know, he'll never understand! He'd think I was some kind of freak if he ever-" He stopped himself.

"And you know, I question if he's even really in love with me. He tells me he loves me but that's not what I feel." Harry said.

"Feels like we're a million miles apart when he's next to me, up against me, or inside of me. We're nothing alike. He doesn't get my jokes, he doesn't understand when I say the sun feels like a distant memory. He thinks I'm just sad because it's cloudy." Harry continued.

Zayn stared at him. "I get it."

"Get what?" Harry sniffed, wiping his eyes.

"The sun feeling like a distant memory. You mean something that brings warmth and reassurance is gone. You mean you haven't felt true happiness or a true feeling of reassurance in so long it just feels like something that possibly never existed." Zayn said.

Harry slowly looked at him.

"Yeah." Was all he could say.

"So...if he's so different from you and makes you feel the way you do, why are you with him?" Zayn asked.

"I need him." Harry blurted out without giving it any thought.

"For what?" Zayn asked.

Harry got quiet. "Dunno."

"Attention? Image? A distraction?" Zayn guessed.

And he was right.

"Now that you say it out loud you're not the only one who feels guilty." Harry said quietly.

"Yeah, it sucks." Zayn said.

Harry nodded, sighing and wiping his eyes again.

"So um, we're still cool right?" He felt the need to ask.

"Oh, don't tell me I add to your image." Zayn joked.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "No I ask because...I'm getting the vibe that for once you don't hate me and it's kind of weird."

"Oh." Zayn said.

"Uh, yeah. We're cool."

"Cool enough so we can keep what was said tonight between us and treat each other like decent human beings?" Harry asked.

Zayn smiled some, nodding.

"Yeah, that'll work."