ILTHY | l.p.

8 | issie's trap door

CHAPTER EIGHT
❛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶'𝗺 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲
𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗼
𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱, 𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱, 𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴. ❜
▃▃▃▃▃

[ y/n ]

I'm going to admit it: I've never really had complete control of my life. At all.

But these days, I feel like I'm not even living my own life. I could barely grasp everything that's been going on lately when all I really want to do is lay in bed and stare at the ceiling with an empty mind or cry myself to sleep.

Maybe both. Seems comforting.

"Y/N, oh dear! Stop that right now!" I snap off my thoughts once I hear quick footsteps and my mom runs in the kitchen, hands reaching out and latching on my wrists. I smile, seeing her familiar hazel eyes that are a bit dimmed from how tired she is from working all the time.

"I've got this," I try to assure her, looking back down to continue cutting the carrots. I wasn't looking, but I knew mom was frowning just from the tone of her voice.

"Honey, you always do. But I'm the parent here. I'm supposed to take care of you, not the other way around."

"You already do take care of me."

Mom coughs roughly—repeatedly. I turn to look at her, my chest tightening at the sight of her like this. "You work too much, mom. Can't you take a day off?"

"I'm not getting younger, Y/N," she smiles, tying her natural dirty blonde hair up in a ponytail. "Apparently, this is normal for people my age."

"Normal or not, you deserve rest too." I kiss her cheek while walking past to the refrigerator, needing to grab a few more ingredients. "And I probably deserve another kiss for that. Come on, honey," Mom cheekily says, tapping her other cheek. I chuckle and reach for the lettuce, looking back up towards her.

I'm glad mom never changes, no matter how long her work is or how exhausted she must be. I walk towards her and peck the other side of her cheek.

"Ah, I must be blessed by the gods to have a sweet daughter like you. I'm pretty sure Marol is such a lucky man to have you in his life too! "

My smile falters a bit. "Mom...it's Michael. And, um, we broke up."

She blinked once and twice before looking guilty and reaching out to hold me in her arms. "Oh shit, darling. I didn't know. I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

I don't really know. A lot is going on, but I don't want to burden her. Mom is already too busy to deal with silly teenage problems. "I'm fine." I nod and hug her back in a gentle squeeze before pulling away.

"I just never know the new things in your life, don't I?" Mom sighs, her eyes filled with regret and sadness.

I was almost too tempted to ask her to stay, to tell her how I barely came home and chose to stay with Olivia or at Partridge's residence instead. How I hate being here whenever I know I'm all alone with the noises coming from a TV show I totally am not interested in. But, of course, I don't. Because I love her.

"It's fine. My life's boring anyway." I pretend to shrug it off with an assuring smile.

"I promise, once work isn't too busy, we'll have a girl's night. Just you and me, pizza, and Friends. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I don't remind her that this is the 47th time she has promised.

ⵌ

"Y/N?" Issie looked surprised to see me in front of their front door. She looked as if she just woke up from a nap, but god, is she gorgeous. Their genes are literally something else.

"Hey." I greet her with a nod.

"Why'd you knock? Don't you have a key?"

I actually do have a key. Liz gave it to me the second I turned 15, saying I was welcome in their home anytime. The amount of trust this family gives me will forever be remarkable.

"For emergencies." I shrug, not really wanting to explain how I don't really plan on using it. As much as I appreciate the gesture, I don't really like abusing trust.

"Okay, but I should probably tell you Millie is out. She came with mum and dad to a cousin's birthday," Issie says, and my shoulders slump. I came here to start writing the song, and I thought that was the worst thing I could ever do today.

It turns out I was wrong, apparently. Because the next thing she said was this:

"Louis is here, though. In his room. I presume this is about the band thing?"

"Oh, um..."

"Don't be weird about it! Come on. This must be the reason why Louis didn't want to join mum and dad. He must know you'll be coming." Issie pulled me in before I could even protest, and the front door was shut close the moment I turned around to take my last chance of escape.

"He isn't waiting for me," I argue, removing my coat and hanging it on the rack. "Well, he's waiting for someone. If it's not you, who then?" Issie says back.

"Friends? Job? He literally abandoned a project in Paris. His manager must be furious enough to hunt him down in here."

"Sounds like Louis's problem. His choices, his consequences." Issie shrugs then grins at me. "Besides, I think you're just trying to find reasons to stall time when you should really be with Louis now."

"Excuse me?"

"I meant working with Louis on the band thing. The whole shenanigan. Chop-chop, now! I haven't got time either; I have to leave the house at 30 to meet a couple of friends."

"What? But you can't leave me alone here!"

"You're not alone. You've got Louis." Issie smiled. "He'll take care of you."

"He barely gives a shit about me." I whisper-shouted, wanting to avoid Louis overhearing this conversation but also getting desperate for Issie to not just leave me alone with this man who's really strange and annoying at the same time. God, he's frustrating!

"I don't know, Y/N. You said so yourself; he canceled a whole flight and rejected a huge project for you."

"Well, not really for me."

"Then for who? Mille isn't in your band. I don't think little ol' Louie had been acquainted enough with your mates to actually give a shit about them." She chuckled and walked past me up the stairs to her room.

And I stand there, frozen and frustrated. Annoyed and confused.

▃▃▃▃▃