We Lived Through Scars

Us.

James Bay: Us

"Sometimes I'm beaten

Sometimes I'm broke

Cause sometimes this is nothing but smoke

Is there a secret?

Is there a code?

Can we make it better?

Cause I'm losing hope

Tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how could I believe in something

I believe in us.

After the wreckage

After the dust

I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

Over the riots, above all the noise

Though all the worry I still hear your voice."

The harsh light of day was a different story though. I woke to find myself alone in the room, surprisingly everyone had left for breakfast. Sleepily content and still in my euphoric nervous haze I stumbled downstairs. I find you in the kitchen around the table with the other lads. I clock you first, our eyes meeting in mid-air but before I could smile, my euphoria was stifled as you huffed annoyingly eyebrows knotted then looked away.

I was taken aback as sudden shame rushed within me and a slight whimper hiccupped across the back of my throat before I could catch myself. Unable to retreat without being questioned I pulled out a stool and perched myself at the end of the table. I requested some eggs and bacon from the person manning the cooker. When my plate arrived unable to make eye contact with you or the others I slumped in shame guarding my meal like a convicted felon.

My mind was racing, conflicting questions scrambled to make sense in my confused brain. My head was spinning out of control. I struggled for air imagining everything being vacuum-packed as my throat grew tight. Just before I could black out my disparaging musings were dislocated by Louis. It took me a few seconds to focus my gaze in his direction. His voice was muffled but his un-shameful smile was broad as he side-eyed me strangely "Bro? Bro?" then continued to scroll through his mobile phone.

I muttered a confused "What?" before he continued. "You OK Harold me'lad?" Reaching across the table he snatches a piece of my bacon and shoves it in his big smiley mouth. "Not like you to leave delicious meat on your plate, mate," he says, continuing to scroll nonchalantly. "Have at it. Mate" I told him angrily, as I shoved the plate toward him, before weakly pushing away and excusing my embarrassed self from the table. Waving my middle finger in the air behind me as Liam barks out his orders. "Rehearsals at ten Haz; we leave in fifteen; let's go!"

Cowardly, I hid in the bathroom, locked the door, and liquefied onto the cold tiled floor. Before I could adjust myself I was on my knees, my bones straining against the chilly tile. I empty the remainder of my bacon and eggs into the blue sterile water. I had no words for how I felt. My mind raced with accusations and weary explanations. I didn't even have the decency and self-respect to look at myself in the mirror as I angrily brushed my teeth until my gums bled and soaked my fevered skin with some cold water.

Reluctantly pulling my jumper over my head and patting my unruly hair I made it to the van just in time. There were a few crumbles from the back seat but as I slid in beside Niall and pulled the door shut they subsided. I stared out the window and watched London go by as we drove not uttering a single fucking word to any of them. I didn't have it in me. Their laughter turned my stomach. The crude innuendos between Liam and Louis, though muffled, sounded like distant echoes in my ears and made my skin crawl. If I turned to scold or question them I thought they'd sense or recognize my shame and guilt. I felt dirty, whorish, like a scorned woman, nervously glancing down at my jumper, imagining a full-blown flaming red capital A would appear.