Make a Joke of It All - A One Direction Love Story

I Will Survive

Kept tryin' hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart

And I spent so many nights just feeling sorry for myself

I used to cry

But now I hold my head up high

KATE'S POV.

I ran home as quickly as I could. My heart beat a thousand miles per minute as I bumped each person I passed.Weird looks were given from all around, but I didn't care. I had to get home.

I banged through the front door to my apartment. I went straight for the phone, flinging my bag on the sofa. It was attached to the wall by a sprial cord I always forgot was there. I began to dial the phone but forgot I had no clue what the number was.

I ripped open the drawer to search for my address book. I dug through pens and pencils, menus, birthday candles and tiny objects to find it. I went straight to the 'S' section. I found Sherry Steven's number and dialed it into the phone. My fingers twirled anxiously as the ringing began in my ears.

"Hello?" I heard from the other side of the line.

"Sher?" I said.

"Who is this?"

"Kate. It's Kate."

"Kate? Where the hell have you been?"

"You would never believe what I did last night." I still couldn't believe, I thought.

"What? Is everything alright? Is the baby okay?" She sounded genuinely concered. Fake.

"Well, I don't remember anything, but I think I hooked up with some random guy."

"Think?"

"Well, I woke up next to him in bed this morning." I was twirling violently now, pacing. I didn't hear a response from the other end for a while. Sweat started to seep its way through my skin, and my stomach growled in desperation. I went to the fridge to grab a yogurt. I ripped open the lid and drank. The line was still quiet, so I figured I'd better say something.

"Sher?"

"I'm coming over." Her voice was solemn as the went dead.

LOUIS'S POV

There he was. Sulking.

It had been a few months since the incident. He hadn't said a word to anyone about it. Not even me. Hell, he hardly said a word about anything recently. I knew he was flabbergasted. I knew he couldn't believe the news. No one could really.

The pregnancy affected all of us. We all felt its touch brisk us for a moment too long. But we couldn't control it. No one could. At least, no one that tried.

He took a swig of his bottle. I wasn't sure the poison this time, but I knew it would ruin him gradually.

He turned his head to me, those brown eyes empty. Sadness dripped from its corners, glittering in the dim light. He dipped his head slightly, trying to soak back in what he regretted having let go. My eyes felt wet just looking at him. It was a pathetic sight, but I understood.

He turned his head to me.

"Louis," he said. "Boobear come and sit down."

I did as I was told. The bartender asked my shot, but I only said water.

"Louis, my friend." He dwelled on the words, a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Yes?" I asked.

He lifted his hand in the air to twirl his arm in the air. "Bartender! Bartender! My fried over here would like a shot of your best vodka. And one for me too!" His words slurring. The bartender stood in front of him with my water.