Different 34 (Patreon)

Author's note: Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well! I just want to say. Two things.

 1. I'm happy to say that I passed Pharmacology! We had the final exam on Wednesday and I got just the grade I needed!

2. I'm still trying to gather the money to continue my journey to medical school in January. I've only gotten 1% of my goal. I'll leave the link here in case you would like or are able to help me. Please I am desperate! https://ko-fi.com/mariabernal8706

Here is the new chapter of Different. Enjoy :) 

warnings: mentions of drugs, sex and more

 Y/N’s stomach churned as she watched Harry and Ivy disappear up the stairs, their figures fading into the dim light of the second floor. She tried to look away, but the image burned into her mind—the casual way Harry walked beside Ivy, his hand brushing hers.

"Y/N," James’s voice was soft but firm, snapping her out of the spiral of thoughts threatening to drown her. He and Sebastian had been watching her closely, their expressions a mix of concern and quiet anger.

"You don’t have to stay here," Sebastian said, his tone low, as if trying not to upset her further. "We can leave. Right now."

Y/N shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "And let them think I ran away because of them? No, thanks." She crossed her arms, but her voice faltered at the edges, betraying the storm raging inside.

"Who cares what they think?" James countered, stepping closer. "This isn’t about them. It’s about you, and you’re clearly not okay with this."

Sebastian nodded, his jaw tightening. "He had the nerve to bring her here, knowing you’d be here. That’s low, even for him."

"It doesn’t matter," Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the untouched drink in her hand. "I’m not going to let them ruin my night."

James crouched slightly, leaning into her line of sight. "Y/N, we’ve known you forever. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. If this is hurting you—and it obviously is—we’re leaving. No questions, no arguments."

Sebastian placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice softening. "We’ll grab burgers or something. Just the three of us, like old times. You don’t have to stay here to make a point."

Y/N bit her lip, torn. Part of her wanted to stay, to show she wasn’t bothered. But the thought of Ivy and Harry, together upstairs, made her chest tighten painfully.

James’s eyes softened as he added, "We’ve got your back, always. Just say the word."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I I can’t just leave."

James straightened up, frowning. "Why not? You don’t owe him anything, Y/N."

"It’s not about that," she said, her voice trembling. She glanced toward the staircase, her grip tightening on the glass in her hand. "I know we’re not together anymore, but... what if something happens to him? What if he needs me?"

Sebastian’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Y/N, he’s the one who brought Ivy here. He seems fine."

"You don’t understand," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "Harry... he’s not great with people. He doesn’t always know when someone’s using him or... or setting him up for something. What if she’s doing something to hurt him, and he doesn’t see it?"

James exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Y/N, you’re not responsible for him anymore. He chose to walk away—he chose her."

Y/N’s eyes flashed, and she turned to face them fully. "You think I don’t know that? You think this doesn’t hurt? But I can’t stop caring about him. I can’t just walk away, not when I know I’d spend the whole night wondering if he was okay."

Sebastian exchanged a look with James, then sighed. "You’re too good for him, you know that?"

Y/N smiled weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying about him."

James groaned and threw his hands up. "Fine. We’ll stay. But the second this turns into more pain for you, we’re leaving. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Y/N said softly, her gaze flickering back to the stairs. Despite the ache in her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

The three of them lingered near the edge of the crowded room, the music thrumming in the background. Y/N tried to focus on her friends’ conversation, but her attention kept drifting to the staircase, to the empty space where Harry and Ivy had disappeared.

"I hate seeing you like this," James muttered, breaking her thoughts. "You’re not even here right now."

"I’m sorry," she said quietly, running a hand along her arm. "It’s just... I have this weird feeling. Like something’s wrong."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You mean besides the fact that your ex is upstairs with her?"

"Yes," Y/N replied firmly, ignoring his pointed tone. "It’s more than that. Harry’s not the type to—" She stopped herself, shaking her head.

"To what?" James prompted, frowning.

She hesitated, chewing her lip. "To do something like this. To show up at a party with her, knowing I’d be here. That’s not him."

Sebastian crossed his arms. "People change, Y/N. He might not be who you thought he was."

"Or," Y/N said, standing straighter, "there’s something going on that I don’t know about."

James pinched the bridge of his nose. "You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?"

"I have to," she said firmly, her voice steadier now. "If I don’t, I’ll never stop wondering."

Before either of them could stop her, she handed James her drink and started weaving through the crowd toward the staircase.

"Y/N, wait!" Sebastian called after her, but she ignored him.

Each step felt heavier as she climbed, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what she would find at the top or if she was even ready to face it, but she couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in her gut—something was wrong, and she needed to know what.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she slowly moved down the hallway, pushing open one door after another. Each time, she mumbled an apology to the people inside, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but she couldn’t help it. She had to find them. Had to see for herself.

"Sorry," she whispered, stepping into a room where two strangers were chatting and glancing up at her in confusion. "Wrong one." The door clicked shut behind her, and she continued down the hall, her heart racing faster.

She tried the next door. And the next. A bedroom, a guest room, the bathroom. Nothing. No sign of Harry.

When she reached the final door at the end of the hallway, she hesitated. The sounds of muffled voices and soft breathing reached her ears, and her gut twisted. She wasn’t sure what was pulling her forward, but she knew this had to be it.

With a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

The sight that greeted her almost made her drop to her knees.

Ivy was crouched down on the floor, her back to Y/N. She was wearing nothing but her black bra. She had one hand on Harry’s bare shoulder, and the other was resting on his chest.

Harry was slumped against the bed frame, completely naked, his skin a ghostly shade of pale. He was sweating—cold, clammy beads of moisture covering his forehead and neck. His eyes were barely open, and he was breathing shallowly, as if each inhale was a struggle.

Y/N’s stomach churned. She barely noticed Ivy glancing up, her face frozen in a mask of shock as their eyes met.

"What—" Ivy started, but her voice faltered. She quickly pulled her hand away from Harry, standing to face Y/N, looking completely clueless.

But Y/N couldn’t focus on her. Not when Harry looked like this.

His lips were tinged with blue, his eyes barely registering the world around him, a low, labored moan slipping from his throat.

"Harry?" Y/N’s voice was a whisper, barely a sound. She stepped into the room, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might explode. "Harry, what’s happening?"

Ivy seemed to snap out of her confusion, eyes wide. "I—I don’t know!" she stammered. "He was fine when we got here, and then he just... collapsed. I tried to help, but—" She stopped, her hands shaking as she stepped away from him.

Y/N knelt beside Harry, brushing a hand gently against his clammy skin. "Harry? Come on, talk to me." Her fingers trembled as she checked his pulse—weak, erratic.

Something was seriously wrong.

Y/N's mind raced, but her body moved instinctively. She reached for her phone, hands shaking as she tried to dial for help, her voice barely audible as she whispered, "I need help. Now."

Y/N’s hands were shaking as she quickly grabbed the thick blanket from the messy bed, her eyes darting between Harry’s pale, nearly lifeless form and Ivy, who was standing there frozen in place. Without thinking, she pulled the blanket off the bed and tossed it over Harry’s lap, trying her best to cover him, but her movements were frantic.

Ivy stared at her, still wide-eyed, as Y/N snapped, “Get fuckin’ dressed already!” Her voice was sharp, breaking through the haze of confusion and panic.

Ivy hesitated for a moment, then scrambled to grab her clothes, her face flushing with embarrassment. Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave Harry, though. Her mind raced, searching for any clue to what could’ve happened to him.

She scanned the room quickly—there was nothing out of the ordinary except for the chaos. Clothes scattered around the floor, empty beer cans on the side, but something caught her eye.

The two glasses of whiskey on the nightstand.

Y/N’s heart sank. Her gaze shifted back to Ivy, who was now fumbling with her clothes, but still watching her.

“What did you give him?” Y/N’s voice was colder now, demanding. Her anger surged in waves, but her concern for Harry burned hotter.

Ivy froze, her eyes darting between Y/N and Harry. “I... I didn’t—”

“Bullshit,” Y/N spat, kneeling closer to Harry. “He didn’t collapse on his own. What the hell did you give him, Ivy?” Her words cut through the air, each syllable harder than the last.

Ivy’s eyes flickered, and she took a step back, her face turning a deep shade of red. “I didn’t... I swear, I didn’t do anything to him,” she stammered, but Y/N could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe that? After seeing this?” She gestured toward Harry’s barely conscious form. “You don’t just... collapse like that.”

Ivy swallowed, her hands trembling as she reached for her pants and finally started pulling them on, but it was clear the situation was unraveling fast.

Y/N stood up abruptly, turning away to pace. “What else happened here, Ivy? What did you give him?”

The silence in the room was broken by the sudden crash of the door bursting open. James was the first to rush inside, his eyes immediately locking onto Harry’s pale, disoriented form.

"What happened to him?" James asked, kneeling beside Harry. His voice was frantic but controlled, his hand hovering over Harry’s chest as he assessed the situation.

Y/N didn’t even glance at him. She was still focused on the glass of whiskey on the nightstand, her gaze locked on the small lumps clinging to the side of the glass. The more she studied it, the more she realized that whoever had spiked it hadn’t done a good job. There were clear signs of something being diluted, but not properly mixed. Whoever had done this had been sloppy, careless.

“She won’t tell,” Y/N finally replied, her voice low and cold as she gestured toward Ivy, who was still standing near the door, looking lost and panicked. Her eyes were wet with tears, but Y/N didn’t care.

James exhaled sharply, looking between Y/N and Ivy. "We need to get him to a hospital, now."

Y/N barely registered his words. Her attention was entirely on Harry as she quickly glanced at the bed. “Let’s get him dressed first.”

She moved to Harry’s side, reaching for his jeans, when Ivy suddenly stepped forward, blocking her.

“He’s not yours anymore,” Ivy sneered, her voice trembling but sharp, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and self-pity. "You can’t do this."

Y/N’s blood went cold. She felt the heat rise in her chest, the searing rage flooding through her like wildfire. Without thinking, she swung her fist, landing a punch squarely against Ivy’s nose.

The sound of the punch echoed through the room. Ivy stumbled backward, her hand flying to her nose in shock, but Y/N barely spared her a second glance.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N seethed, stepping over Ivy, her eyes never leaving Harry. She pulled his jeans on, her hands shaking but determined.

The door swung open again, and Sebastian entered, his eyes widening at the scene before him.

“What just happened?” he asked, taking in the mess of the room—the glass, Ivy’s tear-streaked face, and Y/N crouched beside Harry, now tugging the last bit of his pants up.

“Nothing lets get him out” Y/N snapped, her voice tight with fury. "We need to get him out of here, now. He’s barely conscious, and I don’t trust anyone in this fucking room to tell the truth."

James, now fully aware of the tension, nodded. "We’ll get him to the hospital, no question. But we need to do it carefully. Sebastian get his other side”

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on Ivy, who was still clutching her face in stunned silence. “What’s her deal? Why the hell did she let this happen?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Y/N muttered, her voice cold as she reached for her his phone and things on the nightstand "I just want him safe."

Y/N stood over Ivy, her hand still throbbing from the punch, but the pain was secondary to the urgency of the situation. Ivy was crumpled on the floor, clutching her broken nose, blood staining her hands and the carpet. Y/N didn’t even spare her another glance as she turned to help James and Sebastian get Harry to his feet.

The adrenaline was coursing through her veins, dulling the pain in her hand. Her heart was racing, but she had only one thought on her mind: getting Harry to the hospital.

As they made their way down the stairs, the whispers started. Y/N could hear them—low murmurs from partygoers, the curious glances, the uncertain questions. But none of it mattered.

The second they got outside, James threw open the passenger door, and they carefully helped Harry into the back seat of his car, Y/N sitting beside him, her hand never leaving his clammy arm. The moment the door slammed shut, she glanced over at Sebastian, who was frowning deeply.

“What the hell are we supposed to say happened?” Sebastian asked, his voice full of frustration as James revved the engine, heading toward the nearest hospital.

Y/N turned her gaze to him, her eyes steely with determination. "The truth. Simple as that." Her voice was calm, despite the chaos inside her. "We haven’t done anything wrong."

Sebastian shook his head, his hands gripping the edge of the seat. "But what about the drugs—or whatever the hell was in that whiskey? What are we going to say about that?"

Y/N took a slow breath, her fingers gently brushing Harry’s forehead. He was barely holding on, his eyes unfocused, his body uncomfortably limp against the seat. "Let me handle that," she said, her voice quiet but resolute.

James glanced in the rearview mirror, his face tight with worry. "You sure? If someone comes at us with questions—"

"I’m sure," Y/N interrupted. "We just need to get him stabilized first. Once he’s safe, we’ll deal with the rest. But no one can say we didn’t do everything we could to help him."

Sebastian muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t argue. He knew that Y/N had made up her mind, and there was no changing it now. The hospital was getting closer, and with every second, Y/N’s worry for Harry grew.

“Just hold on,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “We’re almost there.”

The moment they arrived at the hospital, the team outside rushed to get Harry out of the car. His condition had worsened during the drive—his breath shallow, his body twitching with each faint gasp. The paramedics didn’t waste a second, quickly rolling him through the entrance doors and into the emergency room.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, watching the doors swing shut behind them. The reality of the situation hit her like a wave, but she was still in motion, her feet moving before her mind caught up. She was only pulled back by the sound of a nurse’s voice.

"Sorry, ma’am, but you can’t come in," she said, her tone polite but firm.

Y/N’s hand instinctively reached out as if she could pull Harry back, her breath catching in her throat. "Please… I need to be with him." Her voice cracked.

The nurse shook her head, stepping in front of her. "We need to stabilize him. You’ll have to wait in the lobby."

Y/N’s fingers tightened into a fist, the urge to protest bubbling up, but she held herself back. She glanced at James and Sebastian, who were standing just behind her, their faces pale, worry etched into every line of their expressions.

"Come on, let’s step back," James said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He’ll be fine. They’re taking care of him."

Y/N nodded stiffly, her throat tight as she reluctantly followed them to a small waiting area just outside the critical bay. But her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t focus on the sterile, cold environment of the hospital or the fluorescent lights above her. All she could think about was Harry—alone in there, with strangers trying to save him.

But more than that, she couldn’t shake the thought of what came next. How was she supposed to call Anne and Robin? How was she supposed to tell them what had just happened? What had really happened?

Y/N’s chest tightened as she sank into a plastic chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. What was she supposed to say? "Hey, Anne, Robin, Harry’s in the hospital. He... he overdosed." The words felt too blunt, too harsh, too final.

"How do I even begin?" she whispered to herself, barely able to breathe.

Sebastian and James sat down on either side of her, but they didn’t speak. The room was heavy with tension, the minutes dragging on like hours. Y/N wanted to scream, wanted to do anything to fix this. But right now, all she could do was wait, and that was the worst part of it all.

"How long do you think it’ll take?" Y/N finally asked, her voice barely audible.

James glanced at her, then at the door they’d just been forced to leave behind. "I don’t know. But we’re not going anywhere. We stay here. No matter how long it takes."

Sebastian nodded, his jaw tight. "We’ll figure this out. Together."

But Y/N couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in her gut. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but one thing was clear: everything had changed, and there was no going back.