Everything You Want (A Louis Tomlinson Story)(Completed)

Chapter Eighteen: I've got the Worst Hangover From You

Chapter Eighteen: I've got the Worst Hangover From You

Marcie's Point of view:

The light was pouring in through the windows, and I just squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. Why was it so bring outside? Could someone just like turn off the sun for a few more hours? 

I groan, and realized that my head is pounding. It feels like someone is just taking a jackhammer to my brain. That's when I realized that I had curtains on my windows, and I didn't remember going home last night. Maybe Louis just took me back to his flat. He doens't have curtains on his windows.

I snuggle closer to the body beside me, and a strong arm wraps even tighter around my waist. I knew Louis' touch like the back of my hand, and this wasn't it. So if I wasn't spooning with Louis, who was I in bed with?

My eyes snap open when I remember that I'm not even in London right now. I'm not even in the same country and Louis and the lads so this couldn't be some form of a joke. That can only mean one thing. I cheated on Louis last night. 

I slip out of the strangers tight grip, ignoring my headache, and quickly searching for my dress and some underwear. It's been a long time since I've had a walk of shame and I knew that I wasn't looking forward to facing my mother when I get back to their house.

I pretty much just proved everything that she said that I had been trying so desperately to deny.  I am nothing more than a worthless slut that goes out and gets drunk the second that someone breaks down all of the walls that I have tried so hard to build up. 

I silently sneak out the door and out into the street. I had the major problem of not having half of a clue where I was, and I am pretty sure that I lost my phone at the bar last night. I mentally thanked myself for putting a password on it. 

After a few hours of walking around aimlessly, I see a familiar street and slowly make my way to my execution. 

"Where the hell have you been, young lady?" My mother's annoyed voice screamed the second that I walk through their mahogany door causing me to wince in pain.

"I'm twenty years old. You've never cared where I was before." I say back calmly. I wasn't fighting back today. I wasn't in the mood.

"You listen to me. What you do reflects all of us, Marcie. Do you only care about yourself?" She hissed, and I finally snapped.

"No, I don't only care about myself. That's you. I care about my daughter more than I've ever cared about anyone. She's my best, mother. I care about Louis, and I'm so madly in love with him that the lads always tease us about getting married already. I care about the lads, because they're the best family that I've ever had. I care about Harry especially, because he's my best friend. I, however, don't care about you or my father anymore, because I know for a fact that you don't care about me." She looked taken aback when I finished my speech.

"Marcie Jenkins, you will not speak to me like that. We may not see eye to eye, but I am still your mother." She spits her words at me. I have never seen her this angry with me.

"If you cared about Louis and love him so much, why don't you call and tell him where you were last night, and where you woke up this morning. One of my friends saw you leaving her neighbor's flat early this morning. Louis doesn't deserve to be dating such a whore." She always knew exactly how to hurt me.

She's always known how far the cut to draw blood. She knows my breaking point, and she takes pride in that.

"You were photographed, you know. Leaving his flat. I suppose it'll hit tabloids sometime tomorrow, but it'll be online in a few hours. You may want to think really hard about your next move, Marcie." She said smugly. She was winning and she knew it.