Wasted || Liam Payne

Chapter 21

//Sorry I didn't get this finished yesterday - I went 5sos stalking (yes, I saw 4/4). Thanks for all the reads! And thank you all so much for sharing with your friends! I look forward to all your comments, they're my favorite!

Please be sure to add @WastedBrittney and @WastedSydney on Twitter//

Liam

The day goes by excruciatingly slow. Sound check was a mess and everyone back stage was on my last nerve. No one spoke to me. Even Zayn kept his distance, and I preferred it that way.  Every time Niall picked up his phone I fantasized about my laser beam eyes cutting off his arm or some other form of badass unrealistic torture. I then would proceed to look at my own phone, to see if she had text me. Every time I saw a blinking light, I would get my hopes up, only to find that it's my mom, or Paul, or some one else that wasn't Sydney.  I don't even know if Niall had given her my number. Did she have it and was intentionally not speaking to me, or did he just not give it to her?  

"Hey man." I jump at the sudden hand on my shoulder and look behind me to see Harry. "We really need you out there tonight. 

I nod my head, "Yeah." I know he is refereeing to my mental state and he's right. Forget about the girl - there's 70,000 girls out there who do want me, and are screaming their hearts out for me right now, I need to make them happy. 

"Hey Harry!" I shout ahead as he starts to walk away. "Thanks man!" I say, running to catch up and give him a hug.  

He smiles and wraps his arm around me as we walk out to the stage together. With two simple words and a smile I can express my appreciation and he understands. This is  why I love my brothers, and I can't let anything, or anyone, come in between that.  

…. 

The exhilaration of performing for a crowd never gets old. The bass of the drums pushes the blood through your veins, the screams of the fans match the excitement in your chest and the fireworks make you want to burst off of your feet. You jump, and you swing and you run and hop and you put the overwhelming rush of emotion on stage with all you've got - and the crowd just screams louder. We fuel each other. Their enthusiasm makes us move, our moves make them more ecstatic and it's a never ending circle. Who needs speed when you've got fans like these?  

Winding down after a show always takes a bit, and sometimes it's more fun to just stay pumped. Not tonight though. The rest of the guys head to the pub and I decide to hang back at the hotel. I'm not moping around, I'm not feeling down or anything, if anything I'm still running on the adrenaline from the show. If Sydney is done with me, then, I'm disappointed, but, I'm not going to let it push me back into the train wreck I was becoming. If my few days with her taught me anything, it's that I make bad choices when I drink.  

I put some music on the TV and pick up my phone to see if Michael wants to come chill with me. He's probably just playing CoD anyway.  

"Wanta come chill?"  

I send in a quick text to Mikey. My phone vibrates again right away. 

"So, why only blondes?" 

I'm confused for a moment when I realize the message isn't from Mikey, but, from an un-saved number. It's Sydney!  

"Because, brunettes remind me of my past."  

I respond, admitting to her what I had never fully admitted to myself. I save her number and plop down on the couch, crossing my legs.  

"Sydney: And me?"