The Cover Girls (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 39 - The Karaoke Apocalypse (pt. 4)

A/N: This is the last segment of The Karaoke Apocalypse :) I hope you liked it!

~Grace xx

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~April~

The bar was nearly empty.

Members of our group had started leaving half an hour ago as it was getting very late/extremely early in the morning. All of my friends were a bit tipsy, and out in the car, probably sleeping. I’d left my phone on the table and come back in to get it, but they probably wouldn’t notice I was gone for a bit.

“You have a great voice,” The DJ said to me as I picked up Scarlett.

“Thanks,” I gave him a small smile.

“People come to these places because they want to express themselves,” He told me, “but I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as passionate as you up there.”

“Really?” I had trouble taking compliments.

“Really,” The guy grinned. He was a burly guy, looked more like a security guard, but was sweet, especially to everyone who went up to sing.

I looked around the empty room, a single beer bottle here and there. It felt lonely, like it was waiting for someone to take control of it, to bring it back to life.

“You look like you’re up for one last song,” The guy said to me. I guess when you have a job like his, always observing people, you start to notice things.

“Yeah, actually I am,” I replied.

“What would you like?” He readied his hands to type in my request.

“Creep by Radiohead.”

“Nice choice.”

I went up slowly to the stage and sat down on the wooden stool, leveling the mic to sit just in front of my lips.

My eyes grazed the room as the music started. No one was there. The DJ had moved to a back room, putting some equipment away, probably giving me a moment to myself after a loud night. The bartender was lining up bottles of liquor, like I wasn’t even there, keeping his eyes away from the stage. My friends were gone, probably giggling or sleeping. It didn’t seem very different, though, from how it usually felt.

“When you were here before,” I started quietly, “couldn’t look you in the eyes. You’re just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry,” Louis was too good for me. I really didn’t deserve him, to have the right to kiss him when I wanted to. He was better than me. He was a better person, “You float like a feather, in a beautiful world.”

“I wish I was special,” I sang, feeling the words rise fiercely and desperately from my throat, “you’re so fucking special.”

“But I’m a creep!” I belted out, feeling like my lungs were collapsing and I could barely breathe. “I’m a weirdo! What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here. I don’t care if it hurts.”

The girls were truly talented. They grew up with a hobby that formed into a passion, each of them with something that made them special. I used to be jealous of it, I still was a little bit, but I loved them so much that I knew they deserved to have that. They each had something that was special about them. And they each could sing. What did I have that was special? Nothing.

“I want to have control, I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul. I want you to notice, when I’m not around,” I was always sure they pretended to like me. That they faked their emotions like it was some big joke and I was the punchline. It never struck me that it made them mean, though, it always just seemed normal. Like I deserved it. I just didn’t see why such wonderful girls would think I was worth hanging out with. Nobody would really notice if I just stopped existing one day. I don’t matter in the world.

“You’re so fucking special. I wish I was special…

“But I’m a creep!” I nearly yelled, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I’m a weirdo! What the hell am I doing here?! I don’t belong here!

“He’s running out the door,” I hummed, “he’s running out, he runs, runs, runs, runs! Runs!” I’m not okay. I don’t belong here. I don’t, I don’t, I don’t.

“Whatever makes you happy, whatever you want. You’re so fucking special. I wish I was special…” 

:~:~:

~Louis~ 

“But I’m a creep,” I looked through the tiny crack in the door and saw April singing. Tears were sparkling in her deep brown eyes and she looked like she was about to throw up. Ed was staring too, standing next to me with his lips pursed, watching.

“I’m a weirdo,” She went on, looking down at the floor, “What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here.”

The song finished and she shoved the palms of her hands against her eyes, trapping the salt water before it could escape. She stood up with a ragged breath. April swiftly walked past the side door were watching her through, and out the front door of the bar.

I pushed open the door, silent in shock. Ed had forgotten his jumper and the restroom and I offered to accompany him to come get it, since he was slightly intoxicated. He could never hold his alcohol as well as I could. But he looked sobered up now.

“What was that?” He asked me.

What was I supposed to say? What we just saw was a very private side of April, one she didn’t even show her closest friends. Nobody knew there was a part of her that felt broken, that felt worthless, that felt just wrong. Ed wasn’t supposed to see it, I probably wasn’t even supposed to see it. What should I say?

“She’s just-” I paused. It was very unlike me to be hesitant, but a war was going on in my head. “She’s hurting,” I finally said.

“I get it,” Ed said softly, picking up his jacket, “you don’t have to explain. No one is always okay.”

“But I just don’t know what to do,” I gushed, feeling a headache coming on, “I don’t know how to make her feel better! I should be able to make her happy, but I can’t!”

“Mate,” Ed put his hand on my arm comfortingly. He was such an understanding and calm guy. I was glad I knew him, “I don’t know what’s going on with April. But whatever it is, if it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be, then it can’t just be fixed. Those feelings don’t just go away. The only one who can make April feel better, is her. All you can do is be there for her. Everyone needs something steady in their life, something to hang on to. That’s what you can be. That’s what she needs.”