If I Could Fly

Phone call

'Trying to push this problem up the hill when it's just too heavy to hold'
~~~~

Harry picks up on the third ring, much to my surprise. In fact, I was so sure that he would pick up, that I have to idea what to say to him.

My words freeze in my head, and I just sit there, mouth opening and closing uselessly, like a fish. The alcohol doesn't help.

"Hello." He rumbles, low and quiet and I can tell right off the bat that he's been crying.

"Hi" I whisper, not knowing what else to say. "Where have you been?" I ask tentatively.

"Busy" he replies, but he sounds closed off and I know he's hiding something.

He never used to hide stuff from and and this makes me so explosively angry, I have the need to smash something to pieces. Smash something and watch it break just like I am.

He's screwed me over.
My own best friend.
He's gone and moved on with his fame and his new friends and he's fucking left me.

My anger swirls in my veins until I'm shaking and... crying for some inexplicable reason.
Hot, angry tears roll down my face and I curse them for making me small and vulnerable, when all I want to do is scream at him and...

"What the hell Harry? You've haven't spoken to me for weeks and that's all you have to say?"
I'm sobbing now, voice caught somewhere between the slurring alcohol and my messy rage.

"Are you ok Louis?" He asks timidly, and I scoff at his blind ignorance.

"Am I ok?! Ok?! Bloody hell!" I cut off, sighing in exasperation "You know what Harry, yes. Everything is great. Everything is fucking great." I finish, pushing as much fiery sarcasm into my voice as possible.

"Why can't you just be happy for me Louis? You can't expect me to pander to your every little need just because you think you're something special to me! I'm going somewhere Louis! This is my dream! Why can't you just be fucking happy for me! Everything isn't always about Louis Louis Louis!"

"Shut up Harry. Just. Shut. Up." I but in, fully shouting at him now. "We're done Harry. Leave me the fuck alone. See if I care. Don't come crying to me when you realise that you're alone and no one cares!" I hang up, seething at myself, and mostly Harry.

After several hot minutes of blood pounding in my head, I scroll through my phone, looking for someone to talk to.

I find myself coming to rest at a new number- Eleanor. I don't know what makes me ring her, but I do.

"Hi, Eleanor, It's Louis... and I think I'd actually like to take up your offer." Because what else do I have to lose?

~~~

I wake up the next day, head pounding and mouth dry. Letting out a pained groan I peel my eyes open and find myself in a bedroom I don't recognise.

Panic starts licking at my palms and I sit up quickly, only to be pinned down again by my swirling hangover and when I realise why I'm here, I groan again, praying I didn't do anything too stupid last night. Sitting up slower this time, I reach for my jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, pulling them on and heading down the stairs.

"Hello?" I ask, wondering where Eleanor had gone, but I find her in the kitchen with some tea and toast.

"Good morning" she replies, pushing a slice of toast and orange juice towards me. I thank her for it, and sit down on a chair across from her.

"So... about last night..." she begins. Oh gosh. Here it comes. The talk. She's a lovely girl, really, but I don't want any more than this. I don't need a relationship now, not just a day before I leave, it'll only complicate things.

"Yeh...?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant

"Listen. You're a great guy, really... but I don't really see this working out..."

My relief is so instant that I don't even have the time to feel bad about it.

"Oh! Erm... yeh, I feel the same. Maybe we could be friends though, you're a fun person to be around"

"Sure, that'd be lovely" she says, sending me a grateful smile that tells me that she's just as relieved as I am.

We exchange numbers and talk a little longer until I have to excuse myself to go and sort through the rest of my luggage so it's ready for tomorrow.