As the old man stared across the old pub, he felt misery stir in the pits of his stomach. The place reeked of broken dreams; cigarettes and alcohol and the stench of not washing for a week. When accompanied by the hunched backs of punters, drinking their troubles away as more and more wrinkles and frown lines appeared on their faces, and stains on their rotten, moth ridden clothing, it gave the place a sombre mood.
Next to him, another broken soul sat down on the bar stall and in a miserable tone barked at the barmaid to fetch him a beer. It was not until the punter had received his drink and turned to look briefly to his right that the old man noticed how different the man was from the rest of the old cretins residing in the pub. For this man could not be more than 19, maybe 20 years of age, and therefore had many reasons why he should not be in a dingy old tavern.
And it was because of this the old man did something he hadn’t done in a long time.
He spoke to him.
“What’s a young lad like yourself doing in a shit hole like this?” he asked.
The young boy appeared to jump out of his skin in fright, holding his hand above his heart and looking surprised at the old man.
“Jesus, mate, you scared me.” The blonde boy chuckled, and the old man caught a flash of happiness in the vividly blue eyes before they sunk back to being dull and lifeless.
The old man smiled. “Sorry. But you didn’t answer my question; there’s a whole world out there, boy, why aren’t you living in it?”
Shrugging, Blondie turned to his drink and took a sip before mumbling almost incomprehensibly “Shit happens.”
“Sort it out then.” Was the simple response.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“How so?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time. If you didn’t realise, if i had somewhere to be I’d be there right now, rather than drinking my life away.”
Blondie frowned, gazing intensely at his drink once again. He sighed, and stared off dramatically into the distance.
“A couple of years ago i tried to do something but it didn’t work out. Today, someone tried to talk to me about it but i flipped and got angry. I thought they were taking the piss.”
“And how do you know they weren’t?”
“I remember them. I remember the lot of them. I don’t know how i forgot, but i remember everything we went through together because they were my friends and i wish i hadn’t turned them away.”
“You seem pretty upset about nothing to be honest. If they were really your friends they would just come back.”
“Nah, mate, nah, its love. Does dumb things to your head.”
“One of them your girlfriend or something?”
“Something. He wasn’t... we weren’t... we weren’t together, but we were good as.”
The old man felt shook his head. He felt dumb for assuming the boy was straight. But he also felt angry; if Blondie really loved this by like he claimed, wouldn’t he have made more effort to go find him? To win him back? When he voiced this, the boy put his head in his hands and began to sob quietly.
“I don’t think he wants me anymore. I don’t think any of them particularly care about me anymore.”
Before he could reply, a woman approached the two men, a devious smile on her face.
The look on her face sent the old man chills. She was beautiful, yes; but her expressions were morphed by madness, her features tainted by cruel pain. Tall, thin, a face of perfection framed by thick brown hair.
“Niall, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” She drawled.
The boy took his head out of his hands, a flicker or recognition passing through his face.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m here with the boys!” she said, her voice sickly sweet.
“I thought we got rid of you a long time ago.” Niall huffed.
“Come on, you’re coming with me.” She said, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bar stool.
Turning to the old man, her features screamed triumph and she leaned closer to whisper something in his ear.
“If any one looks for him, just tell them ‘P’ has him now.”
***
I awoke from my my dream, shaking in fear at the sheer realness of what i had just seen. Knowing that there was a slim chance it was just a figment of my imagination, I felt the presence of Harry lying beside me and rolled over to shake him awake.
“Harry.”
“Mphmphhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” was all I received in response.
“Harry you twat, wake up.” I pushed him for a reply, shaking his shoulder again.
“What do you want Lou?” He mumbled into his pillow.
“I had a dream.” I told him, not realising how childish the words sounded until they had already left my mouth.
Harry rolled over to look at me, looking adorable with his morning hair and barley managing to keep his eyes open. However, he chuckled out “Aww, would you like to tell me about it sweetie?”
I pouted at him and ruffled his curls. “Yes, I would actually. I don’t think it was just a normal dream.”
“What?” Harry appeared more awake now, sitting up straighter and focusing more on my face.
Explaining to him what I had dreamt, telling him all the details and making sure he was listening, I noticed he became more and more concerned as the story went on. When I began explaining what Niall had said about being “In love” with one of us, Harry gasped.
“Who do you think it is?” He asked.
I shrugged. “Liam or Zayn i guess.” I told him, and continued with the story.
However, when I reached the entrance of the woman claiming to be P, my mind failed me. When I first awoke from the dream, I knew exactly who she was and felt so blisteringly angry I thought it was impossible to forget.
Unfortunately, although I could remember her basic features, the identity of P had slipped my mind.
“Oh Lou, think! It can’t be that hard!” Harry pressured me, but I shook my head. I could not remember her for the life of me.
“So P probably has Niall then?” Harry asked. I nodded. “And you’re sure it’s not just a dream?” I nodded again. “Well obviously we need to go back to this pub then, don’t we?”
***
I knocked on Zayn’s door, Harry on Liam’s, planning on explaining the situation at hand and questioning them both about Niall (because we were both incredibly curious as to who the Irish leprechaun was in love with).
When Zayn opened the door, it was obvious he had been crying.
“Mind if I come in?” I asked him, stepping through the door when he opened it wider for me to get through.
I stepped through the small room, sitting on the lumpy sofa and gesturing for him to come sit next to me. “Are you ok?” I asked when he only managed to give me a small, forced smile.
“Yeah, Lou, why do you ask?” He laughed, still sounding completely fake.
“No offence, but you look and sound like shit mate.”
He shrugged, sitting down opposite me and looking down at his hands. “I dunno, I just feel a bit crap he didn’t come back with us.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about... I think P might have him.”
Zayn’s head shot up and he glared at me. “What?”
As I explained once again, he began to cry, the tears falling thick and fast and only increasing when I told him how much he missed us and the awful words P had said.
“We have to get him back Louis.” Zayn said through gritted teeth. “We have to find out where he is before she does something awful to him.”
“We will, we will, we’ll go to that pub and find him today.” I reassured him. “Zayn, you know when Niall said he loved one of us?”
Zayn blushed and looked away from me, gazing out through the window. “Yes.”
“Do you know who it is he loves Zayn?”
He looked at me then looked away again, still blushing. “Do you remember when we had that week off, and me and Niall stopped talking, but neither of us would tell anyone why?”
“Yes.” I replied, smiling as I realised where this conversation was headed.
“Well, on the Monday he told me he loved me so I went kind of crazy. I didn’t think I was gay or anything so i ignored him but by Saturday i realised how ridiculous I was being and told him I loved him too. I’m not bisexual or anything, I just love him. Like, I’m Niallsexual or something.”
I giggled. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I don’t know! I thought you’d get weird with me or something!” Zayn laughed back.
“Why would I get weird with you! You know for the past 8 months I have been completely, 100%, flaunt it in your face gay and madly in love with-“
“So you are gay then?”
I turned around to see Harry and Liam standing in the doorway, Harry staring angrily at me.
“Um, yeah Haz, I thought you’d already figured that one out.”
“Oh yeah, that’s why I kept asking you.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Suddenly, I felt incredibly annoyed with Harry. I did try to tell him, but he kept getting in the way, being so completely gorgeous and distracting me!
“Lets just go.” I jumped of the couch, walking out the door and into the corridor with the other three boys following me. I didn’t stop till I had walked down the stairs, through the lobby and out onto the street where I stood and waited for them to catch up with me.
“Which way is the pub?” I shouted to Liam, who was closest to me.
He quickly caught up and stood by my side. “Down there.” He said, pointing to the left.
When Zayn and Harry caught up with us, we quickly hurried down the street, filed with fire at the thought of P. Bursting through the pub doors, I quickly spotted the old man from my dream, sitting on the same bar stool from the night before.
Approaching him, I saw the look of determination on all our faces.
“Last night, did you talk to our friend? Blond guy, Irish, blue eyes.” Liam barked at him.
The man chuckled. “Oh yeah, I know who you’re talking about. Some chick named P has him now.”
I felt numb, Liam and Harry angrily cursing beside me and Zayn sitting down on a chair with his face in his hands. I knelt down, hugging him tight.
“He’ll be OK Zayn.” I whispered to him.
“No he won’t.” He spat back. “P has him now, and that makes him as good as dead.”
***
A/N. Bit of a crappy ending haha
Song for this chapter; Misery Business, Paramore. For P ;)
I know this hasnt had much Larry in it so i promise, in a few chapters time, we will have some MAJOR Larry. It's the chapter i've been looking forward to writing since i started this fic so i promise, it will be good :) And it will last for two chapters. Because i love you all.
G xo