Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear

chapter six

this one's a long one. sheesh.

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It's not like running out of an apartment complex I'm not familiar with, did me any significant good, my judgement's still as cloudy as murky puddle water. I almost tripped on the stairs and said hello to my Nan in heaven, where she must be delightfully laughing at the ruckus, I call my life.  I stumbled out of the building, panting into my sleeves, into a street that seemed like a daylight mugging zone. A few feline cats mewled at me and freaked me enough to nonchalantly sprint. I really do need to get my shit together. 

Sometimes to stay alive, you got to kill your mind. Correct. 

When I turned around the corner, looking for any sort of an escape, any familiar street corner or known turn or even for a goddamn taxi. For god's sake, I've grown up in the street of Doncaster. How can I be so aloof, unknown of my surroundings ? And where will I even go if I do find a taxi ? Get your shit together. Now. 

I half jogged along the pavement, my heart still beating out of my chest. 

 I found myself standing in front of a blinding fluorescent sign, that made me feel like I that accidentally teleport-ed myself into a boisterous escort service in Vegas. Nude, obscene posters of heavy bossomed ladies were adorned on the glass door and posters with some show timings. A strip club.

Fuck, did an higher power guide me here out of all the places in the world, so I can sort my shit ?

And I had a sickening, perverse urge to barge in there, and test my straightness. I huffed in front of the building, propping my arms up to my hip, earning a weird look from a woman who dragged along a five year old girl swiftly past me. Which, to be honest, is not her fault at all. What kind of a sick, worthless, horny pervert stands in front of a strip club at a Sunday afternoon ? Oh, yeah. me.

since when did I have to do this. I was an average, straight man till last Saturday and now, I'm probably not straight and definitely a rogue, runaway groom in front of a cheap strip club, contemplating if I can get it up for the ladies still or am I just, homosexual.

But I had to calculate my moves here. Did I ever question my sexuality before this ?

In high school, I dated Hannah Walker for two months and then, I started dating Eleanor. I did love both of them, didn't I ? I never felt the need to look at another woman because I always had someone in my life. And I never felt any sort of attraction towards any male whatsoever. So why now, why Harry ? Am I gay ? Am I Bi ? Am I Pan? Why am I so intensely attracted to Harry. Was I actually attracted to Hannah or Eleanor at all ? Was it because Aunt Fiona once mistook me for being gay and tried to set me up with her step son ? No, definitely not that. 

It feels like someone had put my mind inside a blender. Everything seemed fluid like and nonsensical.

For fuck's sake, I haven't even known Harry for twelve hours and I've already snogged the shit out of him. I would never kiss anyone up until the third date and this, this wasn't even a date !

Get a grip, Louis, get a grip. 

I'm straight and Harry's just really attractive which makes my judgement cloudy and It's not my fault. I'm going to go into this club, remind myself that girls and only girls turn me on, apologize to Harry and go back to Eleanor and tell her that Uncle Ben tried to kidnap me and sell me to the flesh traders. 

yes, done, decided. This day never happened, and it'll always stay this way. 

I went to open the door of the Club when just then, the door swung past me and two tired looking women stepped out in measly distressed shorts and tight tube tops. They looked like they were just tired and bored and when they turned around to shut the door behind them, a teen buzzing past in a car whistled while his friend screamed some incoherent bullshit.