WRITTEN BY KAITY
I hope you guys aren’t mad about the wait, I’ve been sick, and I was on vacation with no wifi for a bit! But don’t worry, here’s your chapter eight!
I stretched my weakened limbs, making baby dinosaur noises while I arose from my bed, more tired than I’d been since the times I got up for school at five thirty in the morning.
After finally convincing myself that I was awake enough to walk out of my room, I marched into the living space of Harry’s hotel room, only to find him not sitting there on the couch. “Harry—” I whispered as I slithered to his slightly open bedroom door. He wasn’t in his bed, but something else was — something that caught my eye.
A fluorescent (neon) pink piece of sticky paper sat in the perfect center of his bed, with a gourmet chocolate bar, and a laminated ticket next to it. I picked up the pink paper first — as any polite person would do — and read over it.
Loubear,
My coach called me in for practice earlier, and I won’t be home til late, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I’m just leaving you this note. Later tonight I have a match — a very important one at that, and I really want you to be there with me before I go out there, because I’m already a nervous wreck. So that’s what the ticket is for, and it’s VIP, so just show them that and they’ll let you backstage. (Leave at eight, you’ll get here by eight thirty, and then my match is at nine fifteen.) I also left you a chocolate bar, as you can see. I made it for you at this special factory near my trainer’s. If you like it, maybe we can go there before you leave to go back home? Man, I wish you could stay for more than a week...
I’m already running late, so I really have to stop the letter there. But I have something we need to talk about when you get to my room backstage... It’s important.
x Harry
I glimpse at the last paragraph, before closing my eyes tightly, preventing tears from falling from them. “No,” I whispered. “He can’t be breaking up with me.”
I set the note back into place on the bed, pushing back tears, and the lump in my throat. I couldn’t cry. I didn’t know for sure that he was breaking up with me. Then again though, he did say “we need to talk” and I’m pretty sure that’s code for “we should see other people” or “it’s not you, it’s me.” Oh god, I wonder which excuse he’ll use. Maybe he’ll even pull the, “I need to focus on my career, but when I get back, maybe we can work things out.” Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can’t let him do this! “Okay, okay, Louis, calm down.” I said to myself, taking a deep breath. “I’ll just go see him later, like he said, and then we’ll talk. For now, I need to stay strong.”
I brewed myself a quick cup of coffee, and popped some blueberry toast in the toaster, too. A nice breakfast was sure to calm me down, at least for a little while. I smothered butter onto my two pieces of toast with a knife, and sat down at the table. Whilst eating, I scrolled through my twitter, facebook, and instagram feeds, just to see what was going on. A lot of people were talking about some hometown fighter named the Tobrecan, and I had no idea who he was. Everyone was talking about how scary he was, undefeated and all, but he didn’t seem scary to me. Of course, all I knew was his name. But don’t scary boxers usually have tough-guy names? Tobrecan didn’t seem to sound so mean and tough.
I decided on closing out of the apps on my iPhone, and heading over to the shops for the day. After changing into a blue tee shirt, and some jeans that fit my bum nicely, I locked the door to Harry’s hotel room, and headed downtown with just my phone, my keys and my wallet.
Incoming Call: Harry ♥ Showed up on my lock screen while I was inside of Jack Wills. My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled the device out and quickly answered, assuming it was important. “Babe, I got your note and things.” I said happily.
“Good, I hope you like chocolate. I wasn’t sure if you would want it. Are you coming to my match tonight?” He asked.
“Of course I am! I’m gonna come early like you said.” I chirped.
“I want you to come down now and spend the day with me if you can. I’m such a nervous wreck, babe. This is terrifying, and I really need you here right now.” He pleaded, a cute needy tone in his voice.
“Okay.” I said.
“Yeah.”
“I'll be right over.”
“Please hurry.”
I followed the directions that Harry left for me, driving down I-76 faster than the 60 miles per hour speed limit. By the time I got to the arena, I was the cause of four almost-accidents.
I showed my VIP pass to a tall, well built security guard who gave a simple nod before letting me through.
“I knew you'd make it.” Harry smiled, wrapping his muscly arms around my waist. I kissed him and smiled weakly, nodding. Harry must have noticed, because next he looked at me half frowning and asked, “Are you okay Boo?”
“I'm okay.” I lied. We sat down on a foam couch in Harry's room backstage. “What did you want to talk about? You said there was something important.”
“So that's what you're nervous about.” Harry nodded, his mouth hung open as if to say ohhhhh! “I'm not breaking up with you Louis.”
I took in a breath—a long sigh of relief. “Well thank god” I laughed. He kissed me once more, but it wasn't a deep or passionate kiss. Just a quick peck to keep us smiling.
“I just wanted to talk about my match.” Harry said. “In case I, uh, get hurt.”
“Hurt?”
“Hurt.”
“Hurt.”
“I'm fighting a hometown guy. He's undefeated, and he's actually almost killed a guy in the ring before. He's broken teeth and bones, and he's never, ever lost a single match, ever. Hence 'undefeated.' His boxing name basically means 'destroys.' ”
I wasn't sure of what to say, if anything, so I just kept my mouth shut for a while, taking it all in that my boyfriend's career—or even his life—could very well be swept right out from under him tonight.
“I just don't want you to be scared if you have to see me get bloody and beaten.” Harry admitted. “I'm afraid you'll leave me.”
“Never.” I told him confidently. And I knew in my heart that it was true. I would never leave him. I liked him way too much.
Harry smiled and kissed me, a long closed-mouth kiss that was passionate, even without tongue action. “I'm so nervous for this match. This match determines the rest of my career, Louis.”
“You could lose your job.”
“I could lose my life!”
“Literally.”
“Christ Lou! I'm so scared it's not even funny.”
I told him everything would be okay. “I'm here for you, remember?” I added.
“You're the best.”
“Kind of.”
Later that night, at precisely nine-fifteen, I gave Harry the hardest, most passionate good luck kiss that anyone had ever given before. I made my way to the VIP seating area, showed the big security man that I had my ticket, and watched as Harry nervously made his way into the ring.
He tried to look tough, and maybe it worked. Maybe others thought that he looked fine. But I knew differently. I knew that he was a nervous wreck, and I was a nervous wreck for him.
The ding of the bell rang in my ears as if it were the only sound in the entire room, and it echoed. I shivered and squinted my eyes. I heard people around me—hometown routers, I'm guessing—mumbling all sorts of things. What stuck out the most to me were the gay jokes. Looks like little gay boy ain't so tough after all. I heard one person say. Body of a boy, mind and strength of a girl. Another one mumbled to his friend. I cringed in my seat. It took all of me not to say something.
The oppenent swung at Harry, but Harry ducked. Another punch was thrown. And another. And another, until he finally struck Harry's jaw. Harry flew backwards, landing hard on his ass. I jumped up from my seat and leaned against the gate in front of me, to have a better look at what was going on.
Harry's mouth was covered in blood that he kept coughing out. He slowly rose up from the ground, wiped the blood with his glove, and regained the strength to start throwing punches at the six and a half foot, 298 pound fighter in front of him.
He didn't do any damage though. The fighter—Tobrecan was his name—punched Harry first in the mouth again, then in the stomach—which threw Harry off—and then the side, and finally, the chest.
Harry immediately fell to the ground. It was like he got shot, that's how fast he fell. The ref blew his whistle and pushed the Tobrecan away from Harry. “Can you hear me?” The ref asked Harry. No response. “Squeeze my hand if you hear me.” Nothing.
I tried to push past the security guard, but he wouldn't let me on stage. “Please” I begged. “He's unresponsive. I need to see him!” The guard shook his head and apologized, even though he still couldn't let me through.
“Harry” I whispered.
I blinked a few paramedics were suddenly in the ring. They put Harry on a stretcher, and headed for the exit.
I booked it.
Right past the security guard, through the crowd of boxing fans, and followed through the door, and over to the paramedics. “Sir,” one started. I cut him off.
“I'm his boyfriend.”
“We really need to get him to the hospital.”
I choked and swallowed. “Well then I'm coming.” I told the medics. They loaded Harry and I into the small ambulance. It was a tight, and uncomfortable squeeze, but I was fine because I was with Him.
[a/n:] So, it's kind of cliffhanger, what I left you with. Not quite, but kind of. I hope you liked this chapter. I'll be updating the next one too, since Claire updated two in a row last time. (There won't be a long wait, don't worry.) So vote, comment [we love your comments] and fan the both of us? My url is @fcknghoran. And you obviously know Claire's. Oh, and please recommend this story to your friends? We love getting new readers.
And on another note, good luck to anyone who hasn't started school yet. (I start tuesday.) And if you have started already, I hope you're having a good year so far! (A special good luck to all those who are starting/have started high school this year, like Claire and I.)
OH AND CONGRATS TO ZAYN AND PERRIE. I absolutely love Zerrie. [it's my straight otp] And if you crash their wedding, I will hunt you down and slaughter you with a samurai sword.
Okay guys, I love you all. Thanks for reading. (-: