Falling Hard for Louis Tomlinson

The very familiar, yet irritating beat of What Makes You Beautiful rang throughout the apartment, yet again being blasted way too loudly. Trying to compete with Katlyn was a lost cause, not only because of her attitude towards anyone who wasn’t as crazy about these boys as she was, and her attitude toward me, the one who was in charge of her.

“Katlyn!” I shouted over the blaring music, standing outside her closed, yet vibrating bedroom door. “You need to turn it down!”.

“Be considerate of others for once, Rachel! I’m always the one doing things for you!” she replied.

Her attitude was irritating, but I had no choice but to put up with it.

I rolled my eyes, and walked downstairs, once again losing a battle with my little sister.

The music faded as I made my way down the stairs, but was loud enough for anyone within a mile radius to make out what song was playing. I pulled out my phone, and put it up to my ear, while covering the other one with my finger to drown out the music.

"I can’t take anymore of this.” I said, as soon as she picked up.

"Why, what’s up?." she said, sighing.

"Katlyn.."

"Hey Rach, they aren't that bad." she mumbled, sounding as if she could predict my reaction.

"Once you’re exposed by a crazy fourteen year old, you’d have a different opinion.” I sighed.

"True, but try and look at it as if you weren’t exposed to them every second of your life. They’re pretty hot.”

"Not helping." I mumbled.

I crashed down onto the couch, closing my eyes as I tried to recover from my headache.

"Well, I need to be honest!" she confessed.

"You don’t actually need to do anything.” I retorted.

"Okay then."

"It’s a lot to handle. It’s all she ever talks about. She even brings that damn cutout to the dinner table when I have enough patience to actually cook for her. Not only does she blast the shit out of her radio, the neighbors keep complaining, and I can’t say that she won’t listen to me. The next thing I know, the cops will be at my doorstep. Maybe then I’ll get a break.."

"You’re so dramatic!." she laughed.

"Sure."

"You're just being difficult now."

"I have a reason." I say and hang up the phone, tossing next to my feet on the couch cushion.

I walked back upstairs as the song faded, and burst into Katlyn’s room, without a thought nor care to how she would react to it.

I silently thanked God for the break between songs.

"Do you know how to knock?" she snapped, turning her head towards me as I walked into the door.

"Yes, but I think our consideration for each other has slowly faded."

"What is that supposed to mean?."

The sight of thousands of pictures on her wall made me cringe, what would these guys think of this? Where does being obsessed get them? Thrown in jail.

"This is a little much.” I say, gesturing to the pictures.

"You’re in love, aren’t you?" she says and smiles.

"No. This is beyond creepy.”

"Well, you just don’t understand.”

"I don’t need to understand, Katlyn. Enough is enough. It’s one thing to have a poster or two of the on your wall, but blaring their music all day long, plastering your walls with their faces, bringing your fuc*ing cutout to dinner, and me taking the blame from the neighbors when they complain about your music is too much. You need to tone it down about one hundred notches. Do you even do homework anymore? Do you have any friends? Do you even have a social life outside of your obsession with these freaks? Is this what you want your life to consist of? Honestly Katlyn! What the hell are you doing with your life?" I yell.