I'll Get Over The Way You Got Over Me

Chapter 5

The fact that he's in love with Zayn isn't exactly a surprise. He wasn't aware of it, earlier, but now that he's realized, he's not really all that shocked. He's mostly surprised he hasn't realized it before, actually, because, looking back, he can't remember a time when he didn't feel this way about Zayn, when Zayn didn't make him feel like this. He thinks he's probably been in love with Zayn since they had that chat after Zayn missed their first band meeting, when Zayn was red-faced and flustered and apologetic, and all Liam had wanted was to wipe the uncertainty and insecurity off his face.

He should've known even then, he thinks. But there are a lot of things he wishes his sixteen-year-old self would've known. Might've spared himself a lot of heartache, if he had.

~

The tour starts back up, and Liam's sort of dreading it a little, if he's honest. On the tail end of that particular Zayn-related revelation, as well as the realization that Louis has well and truly taken over his spot as Zayn's favorite in the band, that Zayn and Louis don't need him around, he hasn't exactly got the highest of hopes for how this final leg of the tour is going to go. He tries telling himself he's being silly, tries forcing himself to believe that maybe things will be different, that maybe Louis and Zayn will realize that they're excluding him and will stop.

It's a hotel night when it happens, and Niall and Harry have disappeared into the hotel like they do, to do whatever it is that they do in the hotels while Liam, Zayn, and Louis stay on the bus, and Liam's flipping sort of listlessly through a comic, (he and Zayn were reading it together, at the beginning of the tour, and Liam's been putting off finishing it because he's been hoping—but he supposes there isn't much reason to, anymore), when Zayn and Louis come into the lounge. They're talking, like always, but Liam doesn't look up. He stares down at the pages of the comic, at Tony Stark giving Rhodes a hard time again, and pretends the letters aren't blurring together.

"Oh, hey, Liam," Louis says, cheerfully, and Liam says, "Hi," back, still not looking up. He doesn't want to see them head out the door without him, again. Louis says, "we're going to the Mystery Machine for a bit, we'll be back later. Don't wait up, though, it might be late," and Liam's hands clench into fists around the comic.

That fucking mystery machine.

It started the whole thing, he thinks, hysterically. They weren't like this until they got that damn thing, they were partners in crime and mischievous little shits, sure, brothers in arms and all that, but they weren't like this. It's like they got a club house, and then they became a closed society, and Liam is suddenly so angry, he thinks he might cry with it.

He's not sure what possesses him to say it, but he's blurting out, "Can I come?" before he can help it, before he can stop it, and he bites down on his lip at the end, heart in his throat. He looks up, finally, when Louis and Zayn fall quiet.

They're gaping at him, hilariously, (or maybe not), similar expressions of shock on their face. Finally, Louis snaps his mouth shut and raises one perfectly curved eyebrow, skeptically. "What, in the Mystery Machine?" he asks, as if it needs clarifying.

Liam shrugs. "Well, yeah."

"Mate," Louis says, hesitantly, and Liam can feel himself blushing, heat rushing to his face with his humiliation, because he put himself out there and they're shooting him down and this is it, this is really it, he thinks.

He looks back down at the comic. "Forget it," he rushes out, a little bit choked. "Have fun."

"You alright, babes?" Zayn asks, and he might as well have punched Liam in the stomach.

"'m fine," Liam insists, glaring down at the comic, knuckles going white against the paper.

"'s'not like we don't wanna hang out with you, or anything," Louis says, and Liam's pretty sure it's meant to be supportive, comforting, but it feels really fucking shitty. "But, the Mystery Machine is like, it's ours, you know? It's our thing." Like zap, and Bus 1, and every fucking thing lately, Liam thinks, bitterly, miserably. "We'll be back later, we can watch a film or summat."

Liam shakes his head. "I might go to the hotel," he says. His voice is completely even, not even the slightest tremor, and he thanks every single hour he spent practicing not to tremble in front of people who frightened him in the past. "Could do with a bath, and a proper bed, and. Y'know." He looks up again, and gives them a bright smile.

"Alright," Louis says, slowly, a bit confused maybe. "If you're sure," he adds, and his shoulders relax a bit when Liam nods, like nothing's wrong. He should've been a fucking actor, he thinks. Or maybe Zayn and Louis are just that desperate to go in their precious Mystery Machine together, that they don't even care if he's telling the truth or not.

"Have fun," he repeats, a bit firmer this time, and they grin at him.

"Enjoy your bath," Zayn says, a little bit lewd, and Liam rolls his eyes, forces out a laugh that sounds genuine enough, and then Zayn and Louis are disappearing out of the bus, and Liam watches as the door closes behind them. He falls back on the sofa, tiredly.

Well. That's done, then, he muses, and then he gets up and starts packing an overnight bag for the hotel.

~

He's lying in his hotel room bed when the thought hits him.

And it's petty, maybe, but he's so angry, and he feels like such an idiot for getting so worked up over this when they obviously, obviously don't care at all, and he can't help it, can't help the, well if they don't want me around, then I don't want them around, either that crests and crashes in his chest like a tidal wave, knocking him off his feet and pulling him under until it's all he can think, until it's all he breathes.

He wakes up in the morning, less angry and more sort of resigned, maybe, to the fact that this is how it is, now. Zayn's moved on, found someone more interesting, (Liam always sort of knew that would happen, because he's not very interesting, is the thing, and he'd always been so amazed at the fact that Zayn bothered with him at all when there were so many so much cooler people around them, and he figures he should be happy for the time he did get, for the years he was Zayn's favorite), and it's probably about time Liam stopped pining for him and moved on, as well. It was plenty easy for Zayn, (and Louis), wasn't it?

Anger blazes in his stomach again, tight and strangling, at the thought of that. He knows they don't mean to do it, and he's tried telling himself that they're not doing it on purpose, that it's not that they don't mean to forget about him, but it's making it worse, he thinks, it makes it so much worse. At least if they were doing it on purpose, it wouldn't be—it would be cruel beyond belief, but it wouldn't be this, this fact that he's so easily forgotten and cast aside by two people who are meant to think of him as their best mate, their brother. It's not fair, actually, for them to be doing this, no matter if they mean it or not. They should know, he thinks, stuffing clothes into his overnight bag with a viciousness that surprises even himself, they should know better.

But they don't. They don't know any better, and Liam's got to get used to that. And, well. Fuck that, honestly. He's not about to crawl at their feet like a bloody puppy looking for a bit of love and acknowledgement. He is not the puppy of One Direction any longer, and he refuses to be a puppy for Louis Tomlinson and Zayn fucking Malik.

~