[HarryStyles] Let Them Slip Out Of Your Mouth

One.

“Braelyn, get up, because we’re going to go out and have some fun.” I missed doing things with him when I was gone, I didn’t think that I would, I really didn’t, I didn’t even expect him to come and visit me, but we’re like family now, he’s my older brother that I never had, and I love him, but just like I would love a brother, and that’s all he sees me as, a younger sister, we’re family. He’s my best friend, he’s the only friend that I’ve had, our friendship is a record, lasting almost fifteen months, that’s a long time, people irk me, I'm not a people person, well I wasn’t a people person, before all of this, I'm getting better.

Groaning, I run a hand through my hair, looking down into my bowl of cereal and milk, frowning, jutting out my lower lip. “I thought that I was supposed to stay out of the public eye.” Furrowing my eyebrows together, I smirk as Beau plops down onto the couch, smacking me with his arm as he flails them both to either side of him. “I kind of want to go out and eat somewhere. I'm a little done with grilled chicken and rice and salad.” It’s weird, eating, talking about eating, thinking about eating, I hated food for the longest time, food was a demon, and I wasn’t about to be possessed.

He takes the spoon from my hand, shoveling a decent amount of cereal onto his spoon, and shoved it into his mouth, smiling around the spoon when I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “So we’ll go out tonight. Either just us or with your family or with friends. But, I'm inviting myself.” Some people think that we’re more than just friends, and I can see why they think that, we’re close, we’re similar, but if you look at us when we’re together we look like siblings, plus he’s so old, he’s twenty three, that’s too old for me.

Shrugging my shoulders, I lean forward, placing the bowl on the coffee table, biting down on my lower lip. “I don’t know. I want to go somewhere that doesn’t need to publicity so they won’t call any of those stupid tabloid magazines. And I don’t know anyone who is going to want to go out with me to dinner.” All the magazines, I read their articles, I saw all the things that they were saying, I asked the people who worked for me and my publicity to not comment, to let it all work itself out without saying a single word about it.

“People are dying to see you and know how you’re doing. And so we’ll go to that Italian restaurant that hates when reporters show up and calls the cops.” I don’t know why he tries so hard, or why he doesn’t stare when I'm wearing shorts and the damn scars are still visible, but they gave me cream, and it’s starting to work, they're going away. There won’t be any scars left to remind me of all the pain. “You know who wants to hang out with you and see how you're doing?”

No, dumbass, I haven’t talked to anyone besides you, my family, and my reps, so I don’t know who wants to hang out with me. “Uh, no, I don’t know, Beau.” At one point, I wouldn’t put up with this, with friendship, and I would allow myself to feel lonely, but then I would want friendship, and none of those people were good enough. There are so many things that have happened in Hollywood and everything associated with fame while I was in the hospital, and I still don’t know most of it, I couldn’t tell you the names of the four boys in that one British band, or maybe there are five of them.

“Selena Gomez wants to hang out with you.” Laughing, he places his hand on his stomach, as if it’s in pain from the laughter, he’s laughing hysterically, and I don’t have it within me to laugh with him, because I don’t understand how she can suddenly want to be my friend after claiming to hate me for so long. Sorry that I got the part in Discovering You and you didn’t. I'm sorry, I take that back, that was mean, forgive me, I didn’t say anything, erase that, and forget about it.

Rolling my eyes, I place my hands on either side of my body on the couch, pushing myself up, standing, reaching down for the bowl to put into the sink. “I want to go out and see what I missed. I don’t need fake friends.” They’re everywhere, people who simply want to be friends with me to be in magazines, to meet all the people I apparently talk to constantly; just because we were in a movie together or I was a guest star on someone’s show doesn’t mean that we talk all the time.