THE CLICHÉ
“Love?” Liam gives me the funniest look, “You in love?” I don’t know if he is either more excited or surprised.
“What the hell? Are you seriously telling us that you are in love?” Zayn is about to lose it as well.
“Yeah, whatever,” I shrug, “I’m in love and I can’t have this conversation right now,” I tell them as I start my run again. I need to find a cab before I faint.
“No, Harold, you don’t just drop a bomb like that and then leave,” Zayn stops me, “You need to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain!” I give him a warning look, “Not right now! Can you at least try to understand that I need to get there before he leaves? So please, dear Zayn, don’t be such a insisting pain in the butt right now.”
“But I wanna know all the details!” he insists.
“Dude,” the ginger jumps in, “Listen, we’ve been rooting for this relationship for a little while now and we are not going to let you and your annoying questions ruin it for us.”
“Hey, don’t be mean to him,” the jealous boyfriend warns.
“Babe,” the model blows air to her face, “I’m so turned on right now. What a cool way to slay!”
“I know,” the ginger answers with a proud tone.
“For how long have you two been together?” Zayn asks, again. Someone needs to punch him in the face!
“You!” I snap my fingers at Liam, “Control your wife!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Zayn clenches his jaw, “That’s a little bit too much.”
“Sorry,” I shrug again, “Why are there no taxies in this city? Damn!”
“Mate?” Liam gets closer to me, “I’m still in shock!”
“Whatever, just help me find a taxi and I’ll love you forever.”
“I didn’t know you were in love, I thought you were just banging the guy!”
“No, they hadn’t even had sex yet,” the model’s big mouth strikes again.
“Hey!” I raise my eyebrows at her, “Drop it with the details.”
“I think it makes the story even cuter, there’s no need to be ashamed,” she excuses herself.
“True,” his babe adds.
“Come here and give me a hug,” Liam grabs me, “I’m so proud of you, buddy.”
“Um, thanks I guess.”
“Hey! I think I deserve a hug too,” Zayn smirks at me, “Don’t I?”
“I’m really sorry to have to interrupt this gay parade but,” the model raises her voice, “There’s a taxi right there!”
“Taxi!” I yell with all the strength on my lungs.
“Harold, this is not New York. That won’t work here,” Zayn shakes his head at me but the taxi immediately stops.
“Don’t try to teach me stuff about this country, Z,” I tell him as I get on the front sit, “I’m almost Brazilian now.” For all of you who thought the tourist was the sassy one between us, you were wrong.
“Hello, I’m Fernando,” a very familiar looking driver greets us.
“Fernando?” I get excited, “It’s you!”
“I’m sorry?” he answers, “Do we know each other?”
“You were my driver on my first day in this country!” I don’t know if it’s the fact that I just came out of the closet or the weather but I sound way too excited.
“I’m loving the high school reunion but we need to hurry up!” the model yells from the back of the car.
“She is right,” I get serious, “We need to get to the Rastaravaria as soon as possible. It’s very important, Fernando. I’m not kidding.”
“To the what?” everyone who’s inside the car ask in unison.
“The Rastaravaria,” I affirm proudly, “I’m sorry you guys don’t speak Portuguese but it’s an easy language actually. I’m getting better day by day.”
“Mmm,” the driver turns to me, “I’m Brazilian and fluent in Portuguese and I have no idea what Rast, Rastava, whatever you just said means.”
“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, “The Bus Station!”
“Oh, you mean the Rodoviaria,” Fernando says as he steps on the gas, “That was close.”
“Harry, your Portuguese sucks!” Liam yells in between his laughter.
“That’s what you get for being so cocky,” the annoying model is laughing too. Even the ginger is hiccup-laughing back there. I can’t believe I ever fancied that dumbass.
“What was the word again?” Fernando is laughing his driver’s ass off as well, “Rasta-what?”
“Fernando? You too?” I give him a serious look, “I thought we were friends.”
“Friends? You barely spoke to me when I picked you up from the airport,” he laughs.
“Aw,” I slap my mouth for being so gay, “You remember me?”
“I remember all of my clients,” he seems proud.
“Well, I was having a bad day,” I excuse myself.
“You were having a bad life, Harry,” the model adds from behind, “So grumpy all the time until,” she coughs, “The tourist showed up. Aw,” she drags the annoying word because she knows exactly how to get on my nerves.
“Shut up!”
“Harry and the tourist sitting on a tree,” there she goes again. I think her mental age is around five years old.
“Who’s the tourist anyways?” Zayn asks.
“That’d be Louis.”
“Harry and nicknames, that never gets old,” Liam sighs.
“I remember him as well,” the driver comments, “He was really nice.”
“He is the nicest,” I smile.
“Aw,” Liam mumbles from the back, “Shit!” he slaps his mouth. No wonder why we are best friends.
“So, are we going to get Louis from the Rodoviaria?”
“Exactly,” I sigh, “Or at least we’ll try to. He is supposed to be getting on a bus to go to Belo Horizonte but we need to get there first so we can stop him.”
“You two are together now?” he asks and I would usually be freaked out for having to share a conversation with a stranger but… well, I said it myself, I’m a different man now.
“We are,” I smile again, “Shocking, huh?”
“Nah, not shocking at all.”
“Excuse me?”
“I knew you two would end up together from the moment you got inside this car,” he explains, “It was very obvious that you liked him.”
“What? I did not like him at all,” I defend myself from his accusations. I don’t think I like Fernando as much as I used to anymore.
“I think you did actually,” he insists, “Don’t ask me why but it’s like a gift I have. I can read people very well.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, “Aren’t you supposed to be in Rio? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for half of the week and in Rio for the other half,” he stops the car, “Here we are!”
“Seriously? Wow, that was fast!”
“I’ve been driving for a long while,” he shakes my hand, “This is my card, call me when you need a ride, okay? I’ll give you a good price.”
“Friends discount?” I smile at him.
“Exactly,” he winks, “Now hurry up and go get your tiny man!”
“I will,” I yell as I run to the inside.
“We love you, Fernando!” the model yells as she and the rest of my friends run behind me.
“Hello,” I try to recover my breath when I reach the Information Desk, “Does anyone speak English?”
“It’s 2014,” a very grumpy lady answers, “Everyone speaks English.”
“Okay,” I try to act nice anyways, “I’m trying to catch the bus that’s going to Belo Horizonte,” I explain, “Where can I find it? It’s very important.”
“There are 17 buses heading to Belo Horizonte,” she keeps her eyes on the screen, “Just in the next hour and 34 during the rest of the day.”
“Damn,” I scratch my head, “I didn’t know Belo Horizonte was such an ‘it’ destination.”
“It isn’t,” she gives me an irritated look, “But there’s something called World Cup going on in our country now.”
“Grumpy,” I mumble as I walk to my friends, “Thanks anyways.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, it’s over,” I throw myself on a bench, “There are too many buses heading to Belo Horizonte. No way we’ll find him, look at how crowded this place is.”
“Mate? Are you being serious?” Liam pulls my hand to make me stand up, “No way you are going to give up now.”
“But…”
“But nothing, we’ll split!”
“Yeah, Mr. Buff is right,” the model says, “There’s five of us and the first one to find the tourist wins.”
“Okay, let’s do that,” I get excited again, “You come with me!” I look at the model, “I need you there for when I find him.”
“Great,” she smiles.
“Why do you need her and not me?” Liam seems jealous.
“Move on, baby face,” she claps her hands at him, “We have no time for a scene!”
We rush our way through the departing gates but no signs of the tourist. I see a bus that’s going to Belo Horizonte already leaving and I’m starting to feel frustrated.
“Enough,” I stop the run, “It’s enough. We won’t find him.”
“What the hell? We won’t stop right now,” she seems determined.
“No!” I get stubborn, “I refuse to be a part of this! This is the worst cliché ever! I wouldn’t write this shit even with a gun pointed to my head.”
“What are you saying?”
“This whole thing! Trying to stop his flight and stuff,” I sigh, “It sucks because I hate clichés!”
“Flight? We are at a bus station, H.”
“Even worse! This is a crappy low budget Romantic Comedy,” I freak out, “I’m done! We won’t find him between the crowds. He is too short!”
“Stop being so negative and let’s continue! We still have time.”
I reluctantly walk behind her and the funny (or pathetic) thing is that I still have hope. All I want is to find him so I can apologize, hug him, kiss him and introduce him to my friends, just like he deserves to be introduced.
“Harry,” the model calls me, “Come here!”
“What is it?”
“Distract the lady. I have a plan!”
“What will you do?”
“You’ll see,” she walks to the front desk, “Just distract the lady.”
“Excuse me,” I say.
“You again?” The grumpy woman stares at me.
“Yeah,” I drag the letters, “I was wondering.”
“What?”
“Um,” I get distracted when I see the model climbing on top of the desk to get to the other side.
“Louis Tomlinson,” she yells when she grabs the microphone connected to the Station’s speakers, “Louis The Tourist Tomlinson, you come to the front desk right now.”
“What do you think you are doing?” the lady yells at her.
“Louis Tomlinson,” she tries to repeat the sentence but the lady stops her.
“You stupid Yankees think you can do whatever you want, don’t you?” she says as she grabs her phone to make a call, “I’m calling security right now.”
“I’m British, excuse me,” she gives her an attitude.
“No, please, she was just trying to help me. It’s my fault,” I try to stop her.
“Harry, don’t!” the model says as she is being dragged to the outside, “Just wait here, he might come!” This is a mess.
I bet his bus left or maybe he is here but he wants nothing to do with me. He is probably with the hottie already, that bottom bitch will win after all. Life sucks.
“Harry!” I hear the most beautiful voice call my name after a few seconds and I turn around to see him running towards me, “I knew you’d come,” he says when he stops in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” I get closer, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t know what I was thinking, I know it’s hard for you-”
“Shh,” I put my index on his lips to make him stop, “I was being an ass and you don’t deserve that.”
“Okay,” he smiles, “You were being an ass, you are right.”
“I’m dying to kiss you right now,” I whisper, “But I hate clichés so much.”
“I love clichés,” he laughs.
“I know you do.”
“How about this for a cliché?” he jumps on top of me, “Too much?”
“It’s perfect,” I laugh, “Because now I have an excuse to touch your bum.”
“Hey, you pervert!” he complains, “Oh, no!”
“What is it?”
“Look around! Everyone is staring at us,” he says and I do it to find a whole bunch of people gathering around us.
“He said yes!” the model comes running with a few cops running after her, “He fucking said yes!”
“Aw,” is the only thing you can hear from the crowd.
“Well, this is awkward,” I say.
“Beijo, beijo, beijo,” the crowd chants.
“What’s beijo?” I ask.
“Beijo is the Portuguese word for kiss,” he smirks.
“Interesting,” I smirk back.
“Now kiss him, you fool!” Liam yells from a few steps away from us.
And so I kiss the hell out of the tourist, just as God intended me to. It’s all gayness and rainbows so there’s absolutely no way for me to notice how people are using their phones to film the scene.
Damn you, Internet and mothafreaking Youtube!
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