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120. Your Mum Is Putting To Much Pressure On You To Be Like Him Part 1

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Harry, age 15: You’re mum was always boasting about Harry to you, 24/7. She always wanted you to be like him, sing like him, dance like him, cook like him, do everything like him. Right now, you were getting ready to go out to the cinema with Harry for your late birthday treat, since he was on tour during your birthday. As your favorite song came on, you decided to sing along. “What is that dreadful noise?!” A familiar womanly voice came from outside your room. “I was singing.” “Sounded like a dying whale,” Your mother seethed, and you sighed, here it comes. “Why can’t you be more like Harry?” She hissed, and you stomped your foot down in anger. “Because mum! I’m not Harry! I’m not some big world popstar that left home and has girls falling at his feet! I’m not your perfect son who can do everything for you! I’M NOT HARRY!” You shouted back, running out past her, and bumping shoulders past Harry who was listening the whole time, and running all the way to Louis house.

Niall, age 14: You were actually exactly like Niall, quite literately. But your mum was too busy telling you you should be like him rather than noticing that you were just like him. Today you were cooking dinner since the boys were coming over and you wanted to impress your brother, as he was teasing you and saying that he could cook better than you. Although the food was fine, you had managed to burn your hand in the process. “This wouldn’t have happened if Niall was making dinner. Why can’t you be more like him?” She snapped at you, not caring if you had burned yourself. You hissed at her, putting your hand underneath the cold water. “Mum, I’m not Niall, okay? Never will be.” “Well at least try! I’m stuck with a worthless daughter at home, who can’t do shit!” She yelled at you, motioning over to the pan where you were previously making dinner, which had now led up to this episode. “Hey, hey, hey. Mrs.Horan, with all my respect, (YN) is not what you just said, she’s much more.” Liam walked in followed by four other shocked boys, who took you in their arms as your brother went to talk to your mother and you cried your pain away— both from the burn and the heartbreaking mother whom thinks you worthless.

Louis, age 18: It was constant. Comparisons of you and your brother flying around the place like spitfire, and it was clear your mother didn’t care. “Hey sweet cheeks!” Your brother smiled, sitting down next to you. “Hi Lou!” You mirrored your brother’s kind actions, it was always good to get away from it all when Lou was home at least. “I was going to ask you if wanted to have a lazy day? I haven’t hung out with my baby sister in a while,” Louis proposed and you nodded eagerly, but your mum thought otherwise. “No way. You haven’t done anything today, no ‘lazy day’. You can get up off your ass and do the dishes or something.” Jay scrunched her eyebrows and you huffed, getting up. “Everything is clear mum,” “Honestly, why can’t you be more like your brother? He has a job and is much smarter than you.” “Actually-” Louis intervened, but you cut him off. “I’m sorry that I can’t be more like Louis, mother. But if you’d only noticed, I have a part time job at Forever 21. I’m sorry I can’t go to the fucking X-Factor and the next you know, I’m famous! I’m sorry I’m not him!” You grunted at her, the tears that had once built up in your eyes were now leaking out freely— and you had rushed away to your room, locking the door and weeping on the ground.

Zayn, age 17: “You’re copying him,” “You’ll never be like him,” “You’re not even half as good as Zayn,” is not even half you got told all day. Today Zayn was bringing over the boys and you decided to- with your sisters - make a fun little karaoke night so everyone could enjoy themselves. So, here we are now, you and your siblings and the boys laughing. “That was too good!” Niall laughed, watching as a drunk Zayn stumbled back into his seat, after hopelessly singing a very, different version of ‘Milkshake’. “Who’s up next?” Zayn slurred, and you rolled your eyes at him, knowing that tomorrow he would most probably be a very hungover Zayn. “I am!” You squealed, going up. Although you were going to give it your best. Starting to sing Firework, the boys widened their eyes at the similar voice you had to your brother’s. “Shut that off! That’s terrible!” Your mother’s voice came from the corridor and it had snaked into the living room. “What was that?” She complained, holding her hands to her ears in exaggeration. “(YN) was singing,” Your sister grinned. “Christ that was terrible. Get some lessons from Zayn, maybe you could at least try to be like him.” She scoffed walking out of the room and your eyes were clouded over with tears, but you didn’t say anything, you just rushed up the stairs and stayed in your room, crying your heart away. But it was okay, right? It wasn’t the first time.

Liam, age 13: To say the least, you weren’t worrisome and protective like Liam. You were actually more like his best mate, Louis. Fun to be around and just plain loud. And your mum hated that, she always wanted you to be like him. Liam was over and your family were all sat on the sofas, chatting to one another. “Christ, (YN), you’re so loud. Why can’t you be more like Liam and talk more quietly?” You ignored that comment, and the fact Liam was raising an eyebrow at you. Next, another harsh comment was sent your way. “You know what I noticed? You’re way too irresponsible. Grow up a bit will you? Can’t you see how responsible your brother is?” She spat at you, although this time you snapped. “Holy shit! No! I will NEVER be like Liam! I’m not him! I’m (YN)! I’m loud! I’m funny! I’m different from him! I’m unique! And I’m definitely not changing for anyone! Especially for you.” You seethed, getting up and rushing to you room, where the heart wrenching sobs could be found.

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