Harry: He had been in the bedroom for a while now. His phone had rung a little over an hour ago, and he had gone straight there closing the door behind him. This could only mean one thing. She was back. She had been gone nearly three weeks; the dramatic drop in attention must have gotten to her. You sit in the living room, allowing him his space. You desperately wanted to hear her sob story because you know she’s been laying it on thick. You were sure she was apologizing. It always starts with that. She has to make him feel better about himself at the beginning. However, it quickly shifts to her. She will talk herself up. Telling him over and over how much he needs her, how much they have to stay together. She will then bring in the outside world, people like you, but no specific names. She will tell him that what you and everyone else have to say does not matter. As long as he believes that what is coming out of her mouth is the truth, they will make it. She places herself on a pedestal, and sadly Harry is always at her feet, staring up at her from his knees. You hated that he did this to himself. He’s going to go back to her. You know he is. She abandoned him with no warning, yet he will fly back to London to be with her, leaving you here in LA to question every single thought that goes through his mind. You hear the click of the bedroom door and take a deep breath in. This was it. He was going to tell you he was leaving. He sits beside you on the couch, a loud sigh escaping as he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “That was her?” You inquire. “Yeah, she’s so full of shit.” Oh. That isn’t the statement you were planning on hearing from him. “What did she say?” “The usual. When she found out I was over here with you she said she realized how much we were meant to be together.” “Of course she did,” you respond, feeling it appropriate to comment on the situation now that he had expressed his true opinion of her. “Yeah. She said I need to be over there to work things out with her, and being over here only shows that I’m a coward.” “She called you a coward? She’s the one that ran away in the first place!” You weren’t believing this. Of course she tried to guilt him into coming back. Thank goodness he hadn’t fallen for it this time. “Where are you going?” You ask as he gets back up off of the couch. “I’ve got to go pack.” What? You sit in disbelief. “What? Why?” “I’ve got to go home,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious. “You just got finished saying not two minutes ago that she was full of shit. Why would you go back to that?” You weren’t believing this, and you were tired of keeping quiet about his relationship. “She’s my girlfriend (y/n). I’m going home.” “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you quickly counter, your voice was louder than it had been in weeks. He doesn’t saying anything in response as he makes his way back through your apartment to gather his things. “After everything she has put you through, you’re going to go back just so she can keep it up? You’re a fucking joke do you know that?!?” You follow him closely. You hadn’t been this frustrated in a while. He wasn’t going to give you a response though. He understood what you were feeling and that you were only speaking out of anger towards him. “You aren’t going to say anything?” You glare at him as you watch him bring his duffle bag from under the bed. You watch as he walks around the room in silence, gathering what was his and preparing to take it back. You observe him with confusion as he begins to remove things from your dresser that he had left with you for months. These were the things, when he visited, he knew he didn’t have to bring because he had them at your place. “What are you doing? Why are you taking those?” When he doesn’t answer it clicks in your head. You walk over to him, hoping the question you are about to ask comes out calm. “She told you that she didn’t want you over here, didn’t she?” His hands pause and your heart drops. You grab ahold of his bag and rip it from the bed, throwing it across the room. “FUCK YOU!” You shout in his face. “Go! If you’re going to let her ruin absolutely every fucking thing in your life then fucking go! Fucking coward.” You storm out of the room, grabbing your keys and leaving the apartment all together. You wanted nothing to do with him.
Liam: You couldn’t help but smile. He was telling you everything you wanted to hear. How he would do anything for you. How you had brightened up his life. If you needed a self-esteem boost at all, he was giving it to you right now. “You going to look at that phone all through dinner, or are you going to actually join the rest of us?” Liam inquires. He’d seen enough. You hadn’t realized what you were doing, what you had been doing this entire trip. So it was a good thing Liam was keeping tabs on every time you had ignored him on this trip with your conversations with Mark. It was like he had invited him along as well, which was absolutely not the case. He had wanted you as far away from Mark as possible, yet taking you across the world hadn’t done that. You stare at him, contemplating a response. Instead of saying anything, you place your phone in your bag and let his rudely toned question go. You are in paradise; there’s no need to pick a fight. You aren’t sure why he has been acting like this lately. He never used to get on to you about having your phone out at dinner, he always had his. But you’ve never been here together before, so you accredited his actions to that. He just wanted to spend the time with you, and you accepted that, grateful that after all these years that was still the case. You can’t help but go back to your conversation with Mark though. You very much wish he could have joined you on this trip. You were sure he and Liam would get on, especially in an environment like this. You go back to the words Mark had sent you a few minutes ago. How lucky are you to have someone like him in your life? Always so sweet, he never wastes a moment on not telling you how amazing you are and how much he appreciates you allowing him in your life. It works both ways though. He seldom fully accepts the compliments you send his way, saying it is all because of you that he is this way. You don’t believe him though; you know he’s an incredible guy. Liam scoffs loudly and gets up from the table, bringing you out of your thoughts. Everyone else at the table looks directly at you. What had you done? Clearly it was your responsibility to go after him. You get up from your seat and follow him out of the restaurant. “Liam!” You say after him once outside. He was halfway down the sidewalk before you could catch him. “Liam, what is going on?” You question, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. His glare quickly erases from his eyes once he is met with your stare. “I’m just irritated that’s all.” He was sugarcoating the situation, but you weren’t aware of that. “Why are you irritated? What is going on?” He sighs deeply, his mind racing on whether to tell you the truth or not. “It’s just annoying that no one in there is actually having a conversion with anyone. They’re all on their phones or working on business shit. I just wanted everyone to come out tonight and relax. It just pisses me off that no one can get out of their own lives to enjoy it.” He clearly chose the latter. “Babe,” you begin, bringing him into you, recognizing his frustration. You had no idea he was feeling this way. You wouldn’t have even brought your phone if you knew that this was his purpose of bringing everyone together tonight. “You have great intentions, but you know you can’t be in control of everyone’s lives, no matter how great your intentions are.” “Tell me about it,” he says as he pulls back from you to head back into the restaurant, having accomplished nothing but lying to you with this talk.
Niall: Your apartment is covered in samples and blueprints. Your first couple of weeks at the firm have been a whirlwind. You love it though. Everything about it is everything you have ever wanted and much more. You still pinch yourself every time you walk into your office. Yes, your office, your own office. Something you have never had. Something else you’ve never had, an apartment in New York, and right now you weren’t doing a very good job of getting it cleaned up for your impending visitor. You’re back in the bedroom, doing your best to rid the sink of the cosmetics explosion you have allowed, knowing it was a pet peeve of a certain someone. This bathroom needs work. It’s only been a few weeks. How on earth have you done all of this in a few weeks? Busy schedule, your schedule is very busy, and that’s the story you are sticking with. A loud banging at the front door makes you jump. You should be accustomed to it now. It happens at least twice a day. One of your neighbors was always wanting something. This was a nice complex though, Niall had definitely made sure you were taken care of, but that didn’t meant you still did not have people knocking at your door wanting something. Another knock comes as you walk down the hall. “Just a second!” You shout, you were in no rush for these people. You look through the hole in the door to see which one it is this time. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say as you open the door excitedly. It definitely isn’t one of your neighbors. You jump into his arms forcing him to drop everything he had been holding. “I was meant to come and get you in like three hours,” you say into his neck, holding onto him tightly. “Yeah, well, you know how I like those early flights.” Of course, you should have expected this from him. He never takes the flight he says he’s going to. You get down from his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips before bringing him inside to see the apartment for the first time. “It didn’t come with this mess, did it?” He teases as he looks around the open floor that has now become your work space. “You know this place has an office, right?” “Yeah, and it’s ten times worse than this,” you counter. He walks back through the apartment, setting his bags down on the bed before returning to you in the kitchen. “You’ve done a great job with this place,” he compliments, as he climbs up onto one of the barstools. “Thank you,” you return with a smile, handing him a beer from the fridge. “Oh, a stocked refrigerator and everything?” “Damn straight, haven’t eaten out once yet,” you brag, but he doesn’t believe you. “Okay, maybe a couple of times.” “That’s what I thought. How is Kati? Still going great?” “Yeah, everything is fantastic. I’m working on a hotel a few blocks over actually, and of course, some other little office projects as well.” “Well look at you, taking on the world, one corporate paint sample at a time.” You laugh at his joke and lean across from him at the bar. “I really am proud of you for taking all of this on. You’re doing so well, and everyone back home is rooting for you as well. It’s not every day one of our own gets to renovate the whole of New York.” You roll your eyes, his compliments were so sweet, but you didn’t feel like you deserved them at all. You didn’t feel the same way whatsoever. You were still doubting yourself, doubting this whole experience. Having Niall here now didn’t seem to ease you in the slightest. If anything it only made your situation worse. He was now here as a constant reminder that he would not be staying, but leaving you in a couple of days. You weren’t sure you could handle that. Yes, you lived a similar life in England, but there is just something about not having his things around you as a reminder than he’s coming back that makes you question this new life. “So can we?” “Huh?” You hadn’t been listening to a word he had been saying. “Can we toast?” “To what?” “To you, silly. For making all of this possible.” Your face flushes at yet another one of his compliments. This was going to be a rough week.
Louis: “Well I guess I don’t care what you all have to say then.” You can hear him from the living room and wonder if he is aware of it. “I thought you all would understand. I need to be here with her right now.” Does he? You aren’t too sure about the logistics of the conversation he is having with whomever is on the other end of that phone call. “I know I haven’t told you all a lot, but that’s just because I haven’t seen you all.” You take a seat on the counter, cup of coffee in hand, as you prepare to take in this conversation. “Don’t start on me. I would tell you about her, if you would just listen.” He pauses for response and continues shortly after. “She’s great guys, I know you all are going to love her. Things were rough at the start, well once everyone found out, but things are getting better. She’s getting used to the attention and negativity, as much as I know she doesn’t want to. I see this going places guys; she’s such a great girl.” So many compliments. You weren’t sure you were even worthy of them. You had only brought drama into his life, yet he had all of these nice things to say to who you assumed was the rest of his band. “You don’t need me there.” The sudden change in the subject and his tone tells you they aren’t as impressed with you as he is. That’s unfortunate. However, you knew he was hiding the fact that he was missing things back in London. You weren’t stupid, and you weren’t really sure how you felt about him thinking that you were, just enough to brush it off. “I will be over when you need me to be. I don’t need to be there every time you all have an appearance.” Is he hearing what he is saying? He separated himself from the group just then. You aren’t even sure how he is getting away with this, and by his tone neither does anyone else. “It doesn’t matter. None of you all are listening anymore. I called to tell you all how great everything was going, and all you all are doing is ganging up on me for no reason.” He’s in the wrong with that one. They have a pretty damn good reason to gang up on him to be honest. He is upset though, and no matter what the situation is, that’s the last thing you want to see. You get down from the counter, setting your now empty mug in the sink. You have come to the conclusion that he has no idea that you have been able to hear his conversation. So you quietly walk past him and back down the hall to the bedroom unnoticed. You then wait a few minutes, allowing him to end the conversation with his bandmates, before you reemerge from the bedroom, this time making enough noise to make him aware of your presence. “Who was that?” You question with smile as he sets the phone down on the couch. “I thought I heard you talking.” “The rest of the boys.” Was he going to tell you the truth? “Oh really?” You question, sounding interested. “I can’t wait to meet them.” “Yeah, they’re excited to meet you as well.” That could be the truth, you didn’t really know. “What did they want?” You are trying here, wanting to know exactly what they had been saying to work him up so much. “They were just checking in on me.” There’s the lie. He had said his purpose of calling was to tell them about his relationship with you, not that they were checking in on him. It’s at the point where your mind begins to wander back to the part where you question why Louis is spending so much time over here. He clearly needs to be in London, his band just made that very clear. So why is he being so stubborn? Surely it’s more than him wanting to spend time with you. No matter how lovely that sounds, you know it just is not the case.
Zayn: You were so excited to see him. You had spent the last few days replaying the song he had sent you, taking in the words, your heart just so happy you had the old Zayn back. You had offered to pick him up from the airport, but he quickly told you not to worry about it, that he would find someone to bring him home. That was a change. You sit in the office, the Internet keeping you busy as you pass the time alone. His plane had been scheduled to land a few hours ago but you weren’t going to push it. If he said he was going to get a ride home, he would be here. That’s all you needed to be concerned with. Much to your relief, the front door opens, pushing your worries aside and you quickly get up from your seat. You make it to the bottom of the steps and stop. You couldn’t help but watch him as he pulls his bags into the house. He was finally home. “Want some help?” You ask quietly, still on the stairs watching him. His focus turns from his bags to you and he smiles. “Sure.” You walk over to him, picking up the bags he had already set inside and carrying them over to the laundry room. You open them up and immediately begin a load, knowing from plenty of experience how long it was going to take to wash everything he has just brought back. “Thank you,” he says with a kiss to your lips when you return, as he closes the door behind him, the rest of the bags in his hands. “Anytime,” you return with a smile. This was so nice. This was a much better situation than the one he had left in. The one, after hearing that song for the first time, you had tried over and over to push out of your memory. You only wanted to remember the good times now. “I’ve been listening to that song you sent me a few days ago,” you reveal, as you follow him up to the bedroom. “Oh, yeah?” His voice sounded genuinely interested. “Yeah, the lyrics are incredible,” you tell him, in hopes he would appreciate your opinion, just as he always had. “Well then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t write them then, isn’t it?” He counters, letting the bags in his hands fall onto the bed. “What do you mean?” His tone what different and you didn’t understand why. “Well if I had written them then you would have thought I had written that song about you. Would you have not?” You pause for a moment, taking in the words he had just said. “But you did send it to me, so it was kind of like you saying them to me at least.” He lets out a laugh before turning around to face you. “You’re so naïve.” Well that’s a blow to the stomach. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, your voice barely audible. “Just because I send you a song doesn’t mean you’re supposed to take the lyrics to heart.” Another blow. You had put so much thought into every line of that song, thinking he was meaning every word he was singing. “But that’s what you used to do,” you remind him. “Again, just because you get sent a song does not mean that you’re special. You are not being placed on some sort of thrown. No one is going to bow to you, no one is going to raise their glass to you. Get those thoughts out of your mind, because you’re the only one thinking them.” You weren’t thinking anything like that. You just thought you had gotten your Zayn back. That clearly is not the case. You didn’t want to fight though. He had just walked through the door. You didn’t have the energy. You had just spent the last few days living a lie. One you had created all in your mind. This was on you. It was better to just accept the situation and move on. You take his words in, letting them eat into your skin as you turn and leave him to unpack the rest of his things. Yet again you were the only one in the relationship walking away feeling the effects of harsh words. You walk down the stairs and to the laundry room. Everything was back to normal.