Harry Styles Point of View:
The music was pounding out of the massive black speakers, and the dancing people around me responded to it with much enthusiasm.
I frowned at all the couples surrounding me; kissing, laughing, smiling, grinding. I frowned deeper, almost growling at them. I had to be honest to myself. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of them. I was – insanely jealous actually. I wanted that. In fact, I think I almost needed it.
Ever since I had been labelled as the ‘flirt’ people automatically said I was the ‘man-whore’ of the group, which, let me tell you, is not true. If anyone was the ‘man-whore’ of such, it would be Zayn (when he wasn’t admiring himself of cause).
I never understood why I couldn’t have what other people have. People on the radio always seem to have love, and they throw the word around like it’s nothing – Nothing! – When people are listening thinking; when will I get that? I’m one of those listeners.
And I’m one of those people that will stare at you blankly when you come and stand millimetres away from my face – especially when I haven’t got any clue who you are.
“Um, can I help you?” I asked, confused, and slightly put-off at the strong smell of alcohol coming of the girl. I would call her pretty if she wasn’t as off her face as she was; her hair was a total mess, her makeup was smudged and running across her face from the sweat the heat was causing, and she smelt of it too.
I screwed my face up as she spoke. For two reasons, mainly. “You’re that S-Styles bloke, a’in’t yah? Why a’int you over t-there with caarrrrot-boiii?” Firstly, her breath was almost intoxicating from the smell, and her second question made my knees weak. Because she was right. I knew she was right – she’ll always be right if I stand here and never move.
My eyes flickered over to Louis, who was leaning against the bar counter talking to Niall, laughing, and pointing discreetly to someone in the dancing crowd. Louis looked as good as ever – he always looked well dressed and respectable, and frankly, attractive. His signature red rolled-up trousers were gone, replaced by burgundy skinny jeans, teamed with a grey and white striped shirt and cream Toms. Niall lifted his head up to Louis’ ear, talking loudly into it so he could hear. Louis laughed afterwards.
But, whilst it was happening, my stomach churned. I knew what it was telling me, it had been telling me the same thing for almost a whole year – I just never got around to properly listening to it yet.
I’ll admit to myself now, and get it over with, I loved Louis Tomlinson – I loved him with all my heart. More than my own life because without him, I don’t know if I’d still be here. I think I would have taken my life by now.
Before I met Louis my life was gradual, boring, and repetitive. Nothing exciting ever happened. But when I met Louis at the X-Factor, everything changed. I’m here now, thinking how amazing life has been with him. Speaking of which, I dedicate my life to Lou…he’s the one who’s made it what it is now – complete.
Although, it’s not fully complete…yet.
I looked back at the drunken girl and smiled, shifting uncomfortably. “Why would you say that?”
She smiled, her head rolling a bit on her neck. “You love ‘im. I ‘ow it. ‘Der’s no ‘eed to ‘ide it, Hazza-Boy.” Her words were slurred and rolled together as one, and letters and syllables were skipped, but I managed to understand what she was saying. And, truthfully, it hurt.
She knew I loved Louis – and that scared me.
Was I that obvious? Really? Was I – I was sure I wasn’t! I hadn’t done anything to make it seem that way. Besides, anything that was remotely ‘loving’ was passed as our ‘bromance’ ‘Larry Stylinson’.
What hurt me the most was that I knew Louis wanted it that way. He didn’t love me – I knew that officially. Why and how, I don’t know. He always tells me he loves me on the phone and in person, but he never actually means it. I know that – so does everyone else.
The fans feed of it though, our bromance, I mean. I guess, if I were a screaming fan like them I would be too. I recon we’d be cute, but I’d never tell anyone that.
I was watching Louis again, and he looked at Liam and Zayn who had walked up beside him at the bar. Zayn had his arm around Liam’s shoulder, and Niall watched them lingeringly. I smiled at the friendliness of the gesture, and how Niall was protective of his Buzz Lightyear.
“Admit it Harry. I know.” The girl said, this time, seriously and with no trace of alcohol in her words. The poison wasn’t controlling her words, and I watched her disbelievingly. I’d never admit it, I told myself. I couldn’t – I wouldn’t. He meant too much to me to just say ‘I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you’ to. He’s precious.
The girl stumbled away, suddenly bored with my lack of responses. I was watching Louis again, wondering what he was thinking. He was watching the crowd, eyes narrowed. We met eyes suddenly, and he smiled. I smiled back hugely, and waved.
He grinned wickedly, waving back like a small, innocent child. I picked up my bottle of Stella’s and made my way through the crowd, just as Louis did the same. We met halfway in the middle of the club. His face was close to mine, but not romantically, he grinned again, showing his straight, white teeth. His breath smelt strongly of alcohol – just like the girls – and my smiled flailed. He was wasted.
I expected him to say something stupid, but he just burped, and then, he threw up all over my shoes. I groaned as he continued throwing up, and all I was thinking was ‘I love this boy, I love this boy’ – just hoping that would control my anger.
I love this boy.
I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS I WILL POST PART 2 TOMORROW
