"I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears''
from Alice in Wonderland
Lewis Carroll
Cambridge, September 29, 1936
'Louis.
Louis.
Fuck,
Louis.'
I heard the sound of Liam's voice , I looked around but I could not see him.
All the sounds were as tight as in a bubble of water, but I could see only sky.
I was stuck.
My back into the sea.
My look into the sky.
And I listened to what the motion of the water gave me.
I did it all the times when I was a kid, afloat in the sea, with my belly up.
Was that, the feeling of semi-consciousness, that I loved.
That night, I couldn't escape from that feeling.
I could heard the sound of Liam's voice, but I could not see him and, at some point, I felt the water pull me down, and I screamed.
When I woke up almost catching my breath from the false apnea, I found him sitting on the bed, I felt his hands holding my shoulders.
'What the hell is going on?
You scared me .'
I was still short of breath.
'Because you're a chickenshit Payne.'
'You talk! You that a moment ago screamed like a terrified little girl.
I'm going back to bed, do not have another panic attack .'
I immediately knew I scared him when I saw him sitting on the bed.
But I did not want to give him too much importance to my unusual screams during sleep.
It was only 3:22 a.m.
I slept a little less than three hours and I had already seen hell in sleep.
Okay maybe not hell just yet but I'd seen it really bad.
The room was becoming too sweltering for me so I went out to smoke some weed .
All the fault was on that fucking insect in the bathroom sink.
And Harry Styles.
Of course.
I was washing my hands and that damn insect was there.
It was in the sink where I should brush my teeth.
I stared at him thinking how to get rid of it because, seriously, I would not brush my teeth with that thing in the sink.
The only solution was to kill the insect with water.
Turn on the tap was enough to let it die drowned.
I was a fucking genius.
I opened gently the tap so it will taste the water but not die immediately.
But it had already felt the danger and instinctively moved in the opposite direction to the water.
I opened more and it panicked, began to flee furiously.
In that exact moment, while I stare at it, I felt the terror.
It was in a hopeless situation, completely exposed without an alternative plan.
It was repeating the same useless movements .
It was.
Me.
If someone had discovered my secret.
I would not have been better than the insect.
I was stuck between the desire to save it and the 'it's already dying and it's just a bug' thought.
Then it all happened in a blink of an eye.
Just before closing the tap, I saw water inexplicably increase and the insect being sucked, and while I thought what was happening, cause maybe I could save it and wondered what will it be, I heard his voice.
Strong.
Enthusiastic.
Inappropriate.
'Hello Little Lord. '
Harry Styles has opened the tap.
Harry Styles has screwed my insect.
Harry Styles has taken even this satisfaction.
Fucking sadistic murderer.
'Still in Wonderland?'
I looked at him with hatred in my eyes.
I think it came out as a irritated grimace.
'What are you doing here?'
' I'm brushing my teeth.'
(Simple and concise)
'No, what are you doing in the bathroom on this floor?
You freshmen should use yours.'
Inevitable morning sassyness.
Tomlinson Trademark.
'But this is beautiful, clean and big'
'But is not for freshmen'
He fucked the insect.
And he could fuck me too.
'But I can meet you here.'
Gosh.
My eyes load up with horror and terror together.
(And also something else, certainly something else did.)
He noticed my reaction and added, without fuss
'Don't bother.
I already checked.
There are just you and me here.
You are quite pale, Loui.
Maybe you should worry about yourself.
Have a good day my lord. '
It always ended with me watching him leave.
It was also becoming quite frustrating.
I decided that the situation should change.
Cambridge, September 29, 1936
'It was not my idea, I am pretty smart but it was too clever even for me.'
It was not like Harry.
He understood I was playing with him by ten minutes in the other side of the tea room.
Since he had noticed my presence I would mime improbable gestures and moved my lips slowly.
He knew exactly what I meant, but he didn't laugh, never stood up and had no oversight of humor.
He simply rolled his eyes, looked at me and went back to the book on his crossed knees.
We had met only three times, always in the bathroom.
And in none of the three I was able to say a full sense sentence.
Except when I accused him of being in the wrong bathroom, very clever.
( Excluding panting and swearing, off course, I was in perfect for that .)
I began to worry that he may thought I was some sort of vegetable delayed.
Stay there while gasping and making gestures was not exactly the best way to change his mind but I had a single argument in my pocket and had to do so much with little.
And so I came closer.
Pretty face and a murderess look.
(Kind of )
'Harry.'
I said greeting.
'It was not my idea, I am very gifted but it was too clever even for me.'
The gaze was steady and the tone almost indifferent full of elusive inconsistency.
(I flew over the very gifted, not to give him the satisfaction of having seen details)
'Who is the genius tho?'
'Niall.'
'I don't understand.'
'It's like your friend needs an answer before he even finished the question.
Probably he is not used to full sentences, just monosyllables.
Because when he asked me which side of the room I had chosen and I hesitated, he asked me if I could hear it. He asked me screaming, because Niall think that a deaf person is not someone who lacks hearing but a person who can't simply heard well, and so he believed that if he shouted I would have responded with more diligence.
And so I thought that I would rather be deaf instead than listen to his nonsense for all year.
And I made it clear, in gestures, that I cannot hear what he was saying and wrote him I am deaf.
I heard him swearing for a while cause his roommate was retarded but then he stopped.
Since then I live in silence and without anxiety by conversation. '
Ok.
He was leading the ''complete sentences'' game.
But in the race ''look like a jerk'' I was the one who definitely was winning.
And I was going to score the touchdown.
'I would say that the I am very gifted thing doesn't make you honor.'
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I couldn't believe I actually said such a thing.
I could not believe that I looked even more silly.
'Thanks little lord, I wasn't hoping for this, you know, friendly – direction.'
Oh, his blood had splashed into his brain after that.
He wasn't pale anymore.
'As for Horan and his current certainties, I would ask you to keep the information on my gifts for you, I mean auditory and speech skills.
It will come out, I will betray myself sooner or later ,and after that my physical safety will be at risk, because I doubt he will take it well, that's why I'd rather postpone .'
He was definitely leading the complete sentences game.
Anyway, since he had pulled it out, I took advantage.
I sat on the other chair and said in a low voice
'Speaking of secrets Harry-'
He did not look at me but I kept going.
'Speaking of secrets, I ask you to keep the way we first met – I hesitated - for yourself. '
Then he looked up.
It was almost annoyed.
'I do not see what's wrong with the way we met, or rather, crossed by chance.
It is not inappropriate, outside school, for two guys go to drink a whiskey down in the city.
But if you prefer, I'll keep it for me. '
I was completely petrified.
We had spoken only three times.
And all the three times he has teased me.
And when I wanted to talk to him and I tried to speak, he became cold and formal.
His answer was perfect, if I could choose one, I would have that.
Yet he bothered me,
cause he disoriented me.
The idea that I had done on him, before this conversation, was absolutely wrong.
He did not seem comfortable and he was also to do it again, leave me there in the grip of my doubts.
But this time I was faster, get up before him and put my hand on his leg and held him.
'Stay.
I was leaving anyway.
And now it's up to me to buy some drinks .'
'Good evening then.'
He confirmed my doubts.
He went away because he was not feeling comfortable and wasn't joking at all.
I was inexplicably furious.
I should be the one to surprise him.
And he has to change his mind about me.
But I was the one who asks questions to myself.
That kid was driving me crazy.
Cambridge, October 2, 1936
Two weeks after the beginning of school, finally Professor Spencer began with his lessons.
The problem of Erwin Spencer was not knowing or not knowing how to explain the topics.
To teach History and Historical Criticism in Cambridge, to the sons of the British aristocracy, future political class of this country, be the best teacher in the world was only the basic requirement on the curriculum.
The problem of Professor Spencer is that he did take a bit too enthusiastic about his job and he never missed an opportunity to clear his role in who was on the other side of the chair.
The fact that three-quarters of his class was composed by the future leaders of the empire, however, inhibited him and so he ended to assert his role with who – poor him- was not noble, or not exactly wealthy but often thanks to grants study and / or charitable and / or miracles.
That morning he referred to Stanley Lucas, whose only crime was to be the son of a father far more ambitious than him, wealthy of birth, thanks to the last three generations of men able to use at its best the cotton fields and hand work at no cost, guilty of being there because in the last six months he had passed the test of history by miracle or he had to attend again, or he has chosen to follow the advanced class.
Of course for Professor Spencer it was a reason enough to point it out to everyone as incompetent.
The fact that I was there for the same reason did not concern him, just see the future leaders theory.
I t would be one of the usual lessons on Friday, in which everyone thought how to occupy the weekend, while I thought of Harry Styles, on what damn psychic dysfunction he had and / or how to convince him on that replica that I thought he has promised me –I know this two things are not easy to approach and indeed, them show that personality more disturbed was mine, but unfortunately, these details on my physical and mental health problems are needed to understand what was my mood that day.
Sometimes, between Spencer speech on the American Revolution and Elizabeth I, I had flashes of lucidity where I thought, if, this morning in the bathroom, Harry had just teased me, even if the problem was that I remembered the other , bathroom, and if he liked it at least a tenth of what I liked ,and if he was not kidding.
Only after we had spoken, almost we confided, when he seemed a poor imitation of himself, we were not met again .
In fact every time, after school, I went to Niall's , but he was never there.
Horan never knew where he was, because he would have to write to ask, and it would be too weird.
And so I think about the real existential drama of my life, despite Spencer disturbing me constantly with his nonsense on that fucking Elizabeth I, among other things also a virgin, you'll understand , such a queen!
Until he stopped attracted by a raised hand.
'It you're in first year, do me the courtesy to wait until the end of the lesson for ask a questions.'
'It' s because I want to do you a favor that I want to ask you my question now.'
Yeah well, I was not exactly in my best physical and mental condition, but now he was exaggerating.
Because there were only two possibilities.
Or was I.
Or was him.
Or I was crazy to believe to hear the voice of Harry Styles during a boring Spencer's lesson ,
or committing suicide by interrupting him and then contradicting him front of everyone, was Harry Styles.
But from the penultimate row where this morning I was able to hide, I could not see it clearly.
'Can you please repeat me your name?'
'I never told you, actually.
But anyway, it's Harold Styles.'
All right.
One good and one bad news.
I was not crazy.
He definitely was.
'Tell me Mr. Styles, what is your problem? '
'You say that history is a set of events that come back cyclically.'
'Yes exactly.'
'I am hopeful that you were not going to support the thesis of Giambattista Vico (1) because a sermon on Divine Providence I don't think may suits you, but I was wondering, how do you interpret, as part of the events that are repeated cyclically, the interventions of natural factors that change the course of history? '
'What does it mean exactly?'
'Well, you claim that the failure of the Armada and the collapse of the Spanish Empire was inevitable, because it falls in the' fate 'of the great empires, and if that day of 1588 the wind cross the Channel had blown against the English incendiary ships rather than in favor, which would have been the cycle of historic renovation?
Because I'm pretty sure that the Spaniards would come up the Thames and would only remain the wigs of Elizabeth Tudor .' (2)
Even from where I was sat I saw the bloody look of Spencer .
I sat straight in the chair, I won't miss the answer.
He was still but controlled, an expression of blood but seems to have already chosen how to argue.
'Mr Styles, I understand you excess of ardor, you are young, enterprising, maybe you know even some laws relating to capital punishment but I must first point out that at the time -and in fact even today- the rulers are not executed them with each other. '(3)
'Oh sure.
She thought it too, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, I mean.
And I'm sure she justified her cousin Elizabeth, by considering her an illegitimate queen, after all it was her throne to be usurped before her beheading. '(4)
Spencer was not controlled, he was furious and just a step away from losing his temper.
The whole class was silent.
Instead I was getting exciting.
In the true sense of the term.
(I am a sensible person)
And yes, I really wish it was not, but I could hear the low voice of Harry never losing in shades of color, he was seraphic, monotonous but incredibly sarcastic.
And I was getting excited.
Because from where I was – damn me! - I was able to barely see his profile and his back and to recognize his crossed long legs.
The professor thundered again.
'Mr. Styles, I remind you that Mary Stuart was convicted after a fair trial.'
'Professor Spencer excuse me, but a process in which a Catholic Queen is not judged by his peers but by a group of English lords and most of all protestants, more than a fair trial is a farce.' (5)
'The story is however, not made with ifs and buts.'
'Not even with prepackaged theories older than two hundred years.
I understand that you did teach this history for decades, instead.
I've already study that in high school, do you think you can tell me something I do not know yet,
because if the idea is to bask throughout the semester in the memory of how great Britain is,
I just take a trip to the statues in the streets of London and the effect, believe me, is just the same. '
'Do you think you know more than me Mr. Styles? '
'Absolutely no.
I just want to focus on details you tend to ignore.
I think you can teach me much more than that, I just do not understand why you refuse to do so. '
'Are you going to be so critical for the entire semester?'
'It depends.
Is your intend to impose on us the story according to the pillars of traditional certainties or want to teach us how to stand in quicksand torn between the doubt and the truth? '
And here it happened.
Spencer laughed.
Very loudly.
'It will be an interesting semester.
I'll try to be able to not disappoint you .
I should have imagined when I read your side note on the first test, which you would not be an easy customer. '
I saw Harry's hand tapping his pencil on notebook and his profile relax.
He was,
perhaps,
laughing?
And at that moment I thought that I had never really seen him laugh.
When the lesson ended he slipped away with discreet elegance.
He definitely knew how to enter the scene and how to get out with class.
Cambridge, October 4, 1936
'Did you hear about the guy who almost humiliated Spencer to class?'
Liam did not seem to expect anything else since he came back in the room.
It was obvious that the news would spread like a tissue of the Times.
Professor Spenser was known, feared and loathed by all those who had had the (dis) pleasure of being his students.
And the fact that someone had stood up was made illogical and already legendary.
Now they all spoke about him every time, everywhere, always.
I did not know even what was true and what was not.
Everyone was talking about Harold Styles.
They thought about him.
They spoke about him.
They asked about him.
Welcome everyone in my life , plebeians .
It bothered me.
Only even the idea discomforted me, people talked about him.
He was just the new guy in town, a fun story and who knows what else.
It bothered me the idea that he was at the center of attention.
I was jealous.
I was jealous even of the idea that they looked at him.
Worse.
I was jealous of the idea that they discovered his existence.
I knew that not everyone would be crazy and would have been obsessed with Harry Styles with the same ease with which I had done, but the idea that even one unnecessary students in Cambridge, who I cannot either know or give a name, will began to look at him, or look for him, among the people, it drives me crazy.
He was mine.
He was my obsession.
He was to remain only mine.
And this, more than anything, gave the idea of how absurd was my obsession.
'Wait.
You were there. '
Liam and his unnecessary questions.
'What?'
'You are in the same class, with Spencer.
You were present at the show .'
'There was no show.
Spencer was explaining and he spoke making him a question and then contradicting him in the response and ...
(Liam continued to look out the window, as if what I said did not concern him, and he start laughing.)
... if you do not care don't ask me questions'
'No ,no, sorry , don't you remember? The guy in question is Niall's roommate.'
'Oh yes.
True. '
I continued to look messy, pretending to barely remember his name when in fact I probably should say with absolute certainty the exact number of hairs that Harry had on his head, even if I did not counted them one by one.
'Well, Don't you remember?'
'What?'
'C 'mon Louis, where the hell do you live?
Niall told us that he is deaf and dumb. '
'Oh yes.'
'He only found out two hours ago.
He searched all across college.
Even in the library, but he is not here. '
Then I remembered.
What Harry said days before in the tea room.
It will come out, sooner or later , I will betray myself
and after that my physical safety will be at risk.
'And now where is Niall?'
I asked worriedly.
'When I left, he was coming back in his room.
Sure that sooner or later he will come back '
'And what's so funny?'
'The deaf-mute, a little while ago, I saw him get into the dormitory.
And now Horan will be already inflating him like a zeppelin. '(6)
I hate running.
I have always hated running.
Those who run are in hurry, and I have not ever.
Those who run are exited, and I'm always bored.
Those who run don't want to lose time, I love idleness.
Those who run are insane, children, servants, thieves or cowards.
Those who run care about something, or someone..
I hated
run.
Tho.
(1) According to the Neapolitan philosopher Giambattista Vico, history is a set of courses and Appeals that do not involve repetition of individual events but the return of similar historical forms, in which more and architect is the Divine Providence.
As if it were a continuous process of events destined to repeat itself.
(2) In 1588 Philip II of Spain ruled over what is known in history as the empire over which the sun never set, because he was so extended, thanks to the American colonies, not to be any time of the day in which every possession was in the dark.
That's thanks to the naval fleet, called Invincible Armada.
On August 8, 1588, he faced the English ships of Elizabeth I in the English Channel.
The Spaniards were more numerous, both the number of ships that of men, but the British commanders had the idea to set fire to three of their ships and send them like giant torches against the armada, which was forced to retreat and withdraw.
This changed the course of history.
(3) The divine right of kings is a principle dating back to the Middle Ages, that a monarch should its power to the will of God, not that of the people, the parliament, the aristocracy, or any other authority, and that every attempt to restrict his powers was an act contrary to the divine will.
From here also it makes it impossible for a sovereign to kill an another, except in certain exceptions, such as high treason.
(4) Elizabeth I, Queen of England, was the daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn.
In order to marry the Boleyn, Henry became Protestant and head of the Church of England.
When Elizabeth came to the throne, as a Protestant, he was accused by the Catholics to have usurped her cousin Mary Stuart, the Catholic queen of Scotland.
(5) Mary Stuart lived in captivity and had no dealings with the outside world to prevent him have another attempt at the throne of Elizabeth I.
He was still involved in the Babington plot, although they had only consented to his release and not the murder of her cousin.
The law at the time stipulated that an accused person be judged by his peers and of course none of the highest English lords was like the Scottish Queen Elizabeth and the same could not judge it.
The lawyers made appealing to the fact that the "crime" had taken place in England and, using this excuse, they could proceed and establish a tribunal formed by the most important nobles of England, and this is what Harry refers.
(Elizabeth I, terrified to send to die a Queen consecrated, postponed from month to month signing the execution order. He signed February 1, 1587 - February 1,. Some are just coincidences)
(6) The zeppelin is a type of rigid airship developed in Germany in the early twentieth century.
It named after its inventor, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin.
For most of the notes I used as a source Wikipedia.
Have not fallen into the details, it is the battle between the Armada and the English fleet that of Elizabeth I and Mary Stuart.
I tried to be as concise as possible in order not to bore you while summing up the events and their meaning.
If in doubt just write me or you can directly read up on Wiki, which is even more detailed.
