Once in a Lifetime

Nine.

By the time Friday afternoon came around, Louis had spent two evenings that week sat in the café with Harry. Of course, Louis hadn't said a single word, but Harry had filled the silences for the both of them. The thing with Harry, though, was although they weren't friends and had never had a proper conversation, it was never uncomfortable. Harry allowed Louis to be quiet, never pressuring him to be out of his comfort zone. On their last visit, Harry had even ordered for Louis at the counter so that Louis didn't have to feel like an idiot when he pointed to the hot chocolate sign. That was how he had ordered before but having Harry do it for him made it a little bit easier to feel okay about being with him. It made him feel like Harry didn't care that Louis wasn't talking, and that was enough to ease the irrational thoughts in his mind. On this Friday, though, Liam had cooked a chicken pasta meal for himself, Louis, and Niall. Louis had a match that night, and it was the first time that Louis had sat and had dinner with the boys for a while.

"So, Lou, are you excited for the match?" Niall asked, using his fork to stab at the pasta. Louis nodded, making sure to make eye contact with Niall so that he knew he was at least trying to communicate. It was something Harry had mentioned earlier in the week when they were drinking their drinks. Harry had asked Louis a question, not expecting a reply but still wanting to involve Louis in some way. Louis had shaken his head, and Harry had told him that it made him feel good when Louis gave him something to work with. It showed him that Louis was at least listening, acknowledging his presence, and trying to communicate in his own way. For some reason, that had been stuck in Louis' head, and since then he had made a conscious effort to at least try to communicate with the people around him, even if he wasn't using his voice. The rest of their meal went in the same way, Liam and Niall asking Louis questions and talking with him, appreciating it when Louis used movements or gestures to join in. It was the first time the three of them had had anything resembling a normal conversation in over a month. Once they had finished eating, they loaded themselves into the car, and Niall drove them to the pitch. They both hugged Louis, wishing him luck and letting him know they would be in the stands.

"Tommo, nice of you to show up this week!" his coach had bellowed when he walked into the changing rooms. Louis had been missing a lot of training recently, so he wasn't surprised when he got a frosty reception from his teammates. He also wasn't surprised when the coach told him he was on the bench for the game. They all ran out together, participating in the warmup as the crowd started to increase. Half an hour before the game, Louis found himself pulling on his red and white jersey, his name and number on the back with the university's logo on the front. The coach gave out his instructions before they made their way onto the pitch, Louis sitting on the bench as the whistle blew to start the game. By half time, his team were 1-0 down, and the coach was screaming at the players for not working hard enough. Twenty minutes before the end of the game, and Louis heard his name being called form the touchline. "Tommo, you're up!" his coach called, causing Louis to jump up and pull off his training jacket. He hadn't played football for weeks, so he was rather nervous, but strangely excited, to get back on the pitch. The whistle was blown, and as Louis made his way into position, he looked up to the area of the stand his friends always watched from. It was the first time he had ever looked up at a game and Zayn hadn't been there.

***

"Go on, Louis!" Zayn shouted as Louis dribbled the ball towards the goal. He passed out to his left, hearing a roar from the crowd as the ball edged closer to where it needed to be. Louis kept running, getting into space so that the ball could be played back to him. He watched as the winger passed the ball in Louis' direction, and he tapped it forward so he could continue running. He swerved around one of their defenders, pulling off a quick 1-2 pass with his teammate, before the ball was back at his feet. He looked up at the goal, quickly considering the goalkeeper's positioning as he came up to the penalty box. He could hear Liam, Niall and Zayn urging him to shoot along with the rest of the crowd, so Louis swung his leg back, connecting with the ball. His breath stopped as it flew towards the goal, and it wasn't until the net rippled and the crowd erupted into cheers that Louis realised that he had scored. His teammates jumped on him, screaming in his ear, and celebrating the goal. When he broke away from them, he looked up at the stands, smiling as Zayn held up the 'WE LOVE LOUIS' banner, jumping up and down and chanting his name. Niall and Liam were clapping, cheering, and smiling from ear to ear.

***

It looked so empty without Zayn. The boys hadn't brought the banner, either. They were just sat in their seats, an empty one next to Niall where Zayn usually sat. They were wrapped up in their coats, hats, and scarves, and although they were smiling down at Louis, it just didn't feel the same. Zayn wasn't there. Zayn always came to his games. Even when they were little, Zayn would ask his family every weekend if they could go and watch Louis' games. He could remember seeing his and Zayn's families standing side by side as he ran up and down the pitch. Every time he scored, he'd look at Zayn, smiling and laughing as Zayn cheered his name. It was a tradition, and one that Louis didn't realise he would miss so much. This time, though, as he looked up to the empty seat, his heart exploded. So much pain coursed through his veins that he had to close his eyes to stop the tears. He heard the whistle blow once again, so he opened them, trying to get stuck into the game. After ten minutes, he realised how unfit he had become. He was so out of breath, his bones and muscles hurt from overuse and his head was already pounding. He had to keep blinking every time his vision went a bit blurry. In the 89th minute, with only a few minutes left to go before his team were defeated, Louis found himself with the opportunity to take a free kick. He lined it up, nodding over to his teammate who knew exactly what Louis was about to do. As soon as the referee gave the go ahead, Louis took a few steps forward, his foot connecting with the ball and sending it flying into the middle of the box. His teammate managed to get a head to it, nudging it perfectly into the back of the net. The stadium erupted into cheers, and Louis ran forward to celebrate with his teammates. When they broke away, Louis couldn't bring himself to look up to Zayn's empty seat. Instead, he looked up at the night sky, the stars shining above him. Maybe, he thought, maybe Zayn is up there, hating me for living my life when his was cut so short. Louis took a deep breath, the anger burning inside of him as the referee blew the final whistle. Louis started to feel dizzy as the anger and hatred for himself got worse, and he stumbled towards the touchline so he could get back to the changing room. Louis was violently shaking, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears. It was so loud. He felt sick as he stumbled forward, the whole world spinning around him. He was angry. He was tired. He was guilty.

"Woah, hey, are you alright?" he heard a familiar voice say beside him. Louis tried to place it, trying to remember where he had heard that voice before. "Louis, look at me, what's the matter?" It was in that moment, that everything went black, and Louis hit the grass with a thud.