Love Letters to Sally || Louis Tomlinson

16.

16.

"Who am I?" I question myself staring blankly into my bedroom mirror. I shrug on my black leather jacket over my white V-neck shirt. Staring back at my reflection my frown deepens seeing just how much I had chewed on my lip last night. I didn't chew on my lip on purpose though, whenever I have nightmares it's something I do and last night's nightmare was terrible. My nightmare was in very deep detail of Sally dying, she was rolling down a hill in a familiar looking car. Sally didn't have a seatbelt on leaving me hear the snap of her neck, ending her terrified screams.

Tonight I was invited by the boys to the club downtown we used to go to all the time. I really didn't want to go and told them that, but somehow Harry was able to convince me otherwise. He told me that if I ever wanted to leave that I was free to go. They just wanted to see me and spend time with me.

It has only been three days, tomorrow was New Year's Eve, the day we were going to be preforming in New York City. I was both relieved and saddened that we were no longer able to perform.

Taking in a deep breath I exhale slowly, puffing out my cheeks, looking away from the mirror. If I stared at it too long I would only be reminded of my past mistakes and everything that was wrong with me.

Scuffing my boots on the hardwood surface of my bedroom floor, I retrieve my car keys from the bedside table and walk out of my bedroom. Grabbing my wallet from the coffee table in the living room I take a quick glance at the lonely apartment before walking out the door, shutting it with a slam.

Getting to the club didn't take long. The snow had melted so people were able to drive normally. I park on the side of the road and get out of the black escalade and try to avoid all the paparazzi. It was not a surprise many people knew we were here. This was almost our nightly area to hang out at.

"Louis!"

"Fag!"

"Smile for the sluts, Louis!" I only ignored the shouts, avoiding my eyes from the cameras with their blinding flashes. A security guard quickly runs over to me, taking me by the arm and helping me through the small mob of paparazzi. I keep my head low with an expressionless face, it isn't until we are inside I feel like I am able to breathe. Six years of this and I'm still not use to them.

"Thank you." I tell the security before pushing my way towards the back of the club. Luckily people were too drunk to notice who I am. I glare at a guy who almost spills his beer on me, pushing him more harshly than I had to the others who got in my way. Shaking my head, I tug on my jacket huffing out a breath once I near the boys.

They are all seated in a ' C ' shaped booth which seats up to seven people. Liam, Sophia, Harry, and Wren are all seated talking amongst each other. Different types of drinks are scattered over the dark marble of the table.

"There he is!" Harry hollers, everyone laughs. I fake a smile and take a seat next to Wren on the right side of the table. "How are you doing Louis?"

"Just fine." I reply with fake laugh. Everyone seems convinced and returns to their conversations I had interrupted. Placing my elbows on the table I lean onto it trying to listen closely to the conversations but I keep running off on my own thoughts. "Is this mine?" I ask Wren who stopped laughing. Her hazel eyes smile at me and look at the beer I was pointing at. She nods, her unnatural red hair falling slightly in her face. I form my lips in a thin line nodding my head before pushing the twenty ounce glass towards me.