That was until he stated to embarrass everyone. Then his mother was forced to acknowledge him. He was a proper mess. Nothing original or special. Just another rich kid who had everything but complained that it wasn't enough. He kept doing taking. He kept making stupid mistakes. He'd drink and drive his 'friends' around everywhere they wanted. He was arrested a few times, mostly for petty drug charges. Nothing ever came of it, and his mother always bailed him out.
Yeah, Louis was a train-wreck. It was a simple fact. And he hurt. He hurt a lot, but he was exceptional at suffering on his own. So, he was never really a Tomlinson, he'd never be a Deakin and he was lost, lost, lost.
He was in his third year of Uni—taking mostly first year classes because he normally flunked everything he took. He didn't go to school much. He liked lectures and all, but it was never enough of an incentive for him to attend them. If he was honest, he'd much rather stay in his room and read poetry and sip tea until the wee hours of the morning. Reading was the only thing that had ever really held his interest. He liked to escape (hence the excessive drug use). But more often than not, he'd chosen his friends over the things that actually brought him joy, simply because they asked him to, and that almost made him feel wanted (even if he was intelligent enough to know they just wanted him to buy them drugs).
On that particular night, that was exactly what Louis was gearing up to do. Matt had texted him asking for a ride to a rave across town where they apparently had the best MDMA in town. Louis liked MDMA. It was probably his favourite drug. He wasn't really addicted though, not anymore. He was kind of tired of the whole scene. Most of the time, now, he just waited around until his friends wanted a ride to the next party or needed him to buy pizza at four AM.
Louis didn't like his life, but it was his. It was what he knew. These were the people who searched him out and asked for him in ways that his family never had. It made him feel wanted, and that's really all Louis wanted. He'd snort anything, drink anything, drive people around in the middle of the night if they asked him to, because he was pathetic. Pathetic and desperate and lonely. He was lonely in a house full of nine people and parties full of hundreds of others. He didn't really have a clue what he was doing.
He opened the door to his bedroom and flew down the stairs quickly. Normally he slipped by his family easily without them noticing. They always ate dinner at 7, which is what they were doing now. They never invited Louis to the dinner table. They were probably afraid he'd corrupt his sisters, one of which was officially a teenager. She was now particularly susceptible to corruption. He tried to slide carefully passed them without word, but when he reached the front door and reached for his keys, he realized they weren't on the hook. This was odd, because he always put them back (he had a horrible habit of losing everything and vowed that the keys to his Mercedes would never be one of those things).
"Louis?" He heard his mother's voice, and the whole thing was odd. Where were his keys, and why was his mother trying to engage him during her precious family dinner time? His palms felt sweaty, he wiped them on his jeans, tension in all of his limbs.
Rationally, he knew that this was probably just another intervention of some sort (they did this every few months) but he still felt uneasy.
"Come in here, would you?" His mother beckoned.
He walked uneasily to the dining room, his heart hammering in his chest. Honestly, he didn't know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn't this. It wasn't this life, this awful rerun that looped over and over. He was sick to death of everything in his life. He stood then, in the threshold of the dining room, his mum standing now and his siblings and Dan filing out of the room. Oh, god. It was an intervention, wasn't in?
save myself
Start from the beginning
