Friends.

Chapter 51

A bittersweet goodbye to Marius took place yesterday afternoon. It was good to see Anne, but I’m so sad to see my kitten go, I know I only had him for a short amount of time but he was such a constant during the mess these past couple of weeks. I swear he has a sixth sense for when I’m upset…maybe all cats have that?

Today, I skipped work to drive out to see Mum and Dad before I leave and ditch some of the stuff I’m not taking to New York. Since arriving four hours ago, I’ve already had three cups of Yorkshire tea forced down my throat by them whilst they flicked through photo albums of my childhood. I’d never realised how camera crazy my Dad had gone over the years, he literally documented everything, there’s a scrapbook for every year of my life. I briefly skimmed over the past five that were relatively thinner compared to the rest considering I wasn’t living at home, Harry and Gemma featured way too much for my liking, but there were some pictures of Linda and I that I took pictures of to send to her and post on instagram as a throwback. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Mum asks around 5 O’clock.

“Yeah I might stay the night actually, and leave early tomorrow morning for work.” I tell her, loving the idea of not having to catch the train back now. I have to leave my car here now, and Mum’s buying it off me so she can donate it to a charity for an auction. I definitely won’t be needing a car in New York, and I don’t really want it to go to waste.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket and when I see a picture of Louis’ flashing across the screen my heart skips a beat, a stupid grin spreading across my face.

“Oh it’s Louis.” I say, swiping across to answer.

“Hey!” I greet him enthusiastically but the background noise throws me. I can hear loud music and lots of voices cheering and singing.

“Hi.” I hear a muffled voice.

“Louis? Where are you?” They’re 11 hours ahead…6, 7, 8, 9…2am in New Zealand?
He doesn’t respond, all I hear is music.

“I miss you!” I’m finally met with his voice but it sounds really odd, like he’s talking from inside a bubble.

“I miss you too, where are you?” I repeat, standing up and leaving the living room to get away from my parents prying eyes and try to hear over the sound of the news Dad is watching.

“Um, a club?” He says after hesitating.

“Okay.” I say simply.

Silence.

“I hate this.” His voice crackles through the phone, barely audible.

“What do you hate?”

“This.” He groans, his voice sounds tangled and trapped in his throat almost. My mind pictures him slumped against a wall in a club, watching everyone else dance like sex-craved maniacs.
“What’s this?” I push him for some sort of meaning to his nonsensical dribble.

“This long distance shit.” He says after another long silence.

“Me too.” I agree.

“Strugg-ugling.” He says, I can’t escape how odd he sounds, his thoughts are getting lost in his mind as he tries to word them and they end up coming out an incoherent mess.

“Struggling with what?”

“Not seeing you.” He says.

“Only like 6 weeks till I see you.” I say, my voice hopeful, desperately trying to change the tone of this conversation that currently feels very dire.

“But it’s so hard!” He shouts, his voice is so distorted I barely recognise it. “It’s fucked! I hate missing people, it drives me crazy! Harry was right all those weeks ago, someone like you could never date someone with my career. It just don’t work.” He speaks, his first almost completely functional sentence and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. He’s having serious doubts, and they’re being horribly relayed through this difficult-to-understand conversation. He’s on the other side of the world giving up on us and I’m not there to fix it before it’s too late.