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Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

Dear Me,

I literally don't even have enough respect for him to write a goodbye letter. I can only care so much. He pushed me away this time, and I just wanted to help. This isn't what I wanted, but I guess it's what has to happen. I think I always knew it would end in shambles like this anyways.

-Me

~*~

"It's not that I'm leaving with the actual mindset of running away. It's just kind of happening. I'm 18. I'm technically not even running away. I'm a grown adult who is taking a break from the nonsensical ways of my life." I came to the conclusion about fifteen minutes into my pointless drive away from the house that I needed to tell someone that I was leaving. Mikey seemed like the only logical option because he's the only one I can think of to trust that isn't connected to the band.  The word trust is spread very, very thinly here, because it is Mikey.

"Whatever you say, Curly. How long are ya planning on being on the run?"

"Until I feel good and ready to come back. Or when Louis decides to stop being a dick and man up." I bit out. Just because i'm an adult doesn't mean I have to always act like one.

"What exactly did he do anyways?" Mikey asked.

"Doesn't matter. Just let me vent, okay? Point is-" 

"It does matter if it's enough to make you drive around for no reason to get away from him. Can I ask? Is it becau-"

"No, Mikey. You can't ask." I ran my hand over my face in pure annoyance. Maybe it was a bad idea to call him. "Point is, i'm going to stay at The Corinthia for a bit and I figured it would be common sense to tell someone so people don't think I just up and died. Keep this to yourself. Do not tell anyone that i've gone unless they think I did just that. Died. Keep in mind, you'll be dead if you say a word otherwise. Got it?" 

"Whatever you say, boss man." Mikey laughed into the phone. "So can you tell me which floor you'll be staying on once you get there? I'm sure the press will pay me more if I give them that information as well."

"Goodbye, Mikey!" I hung up my phone and tossed it into the passenger's seat to my left.

Note to self, I thought, find a different group of people to hang out with...and maybe a personal masseuse for the time being.

------------------

Don't be sorry, don't be sorry, don't be sorry.

Drink.

You broke his damn heart, get out there and fix it!

Drink.

He's fine, he needs to grow up.

Drink.

Quit lying to yourself. It's pathetic, Louis, really.

Drink.

This could probably go on all night if I wanted it to, but I feel awful as it is, and I'd rather not wake up with a hangover AND unrelenting guilt.

I didn't mean to say what I said to him, but to be fair, it needed to be said. I just want to help him. That's all I've ever wanted to do. Unfortunately, if it means having a little riff (okay, a major falling out) with him in order for that to happen, I guess that's what it comes to. He'll thank me for all of this later.

I hope.

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I set out to try and find something to entertain myself indoors because I can't bring myself to leave, but at the same time, I don't want to be home on the off chance Harry decides to come back. He's been gone- at Liam's I assume- for nearly three days now.