One Direction Preferences

You break up (punk series)

Harry: You're both too busy for one another. Life has become hectic. Chaotic even. Harry's just taken over the record label he works for, signing three bands in his first month that have the potential to go global. Two of his bands have just hit platinum in every country. Harry's been flying around the country, seeing new talent and attending concerts for bands he's already signed. He's in the studio when he's not on a plane or at a concert, laying down tracks for artists and recording some of his own music. A few of his personal stuff has been leaked and the fans went crazy, eating up the sound of his voice and the lazy strum of his guitar. To say he's in high demand would be an understatement. You've just opened your new store in New York City, spending a majority of your time in the city you had grown up in. There's a brand new group of people to hire and for this store, you have to be more selective and more careful. The New York store is one you won't be in everyday and you need a manager you can trust to take care of your precious store. You glance at your phone, another missed call from Harry lighting up your screen. It isn't until after you've instructed Siri to remind you to call Harry back that you realize how ridiculous that is; needing your phone to remind you to call your own boyfriend. Leaning against the newly installed counter, you flip to the calendar on your phone and count back to the last time you'd seen Harry. Three months. It's been three months since you'd last seen each other in person. "Can we skype later? We need to talk." You text, setting your phone aside once Harry's agreed to continue with your work. "How are things with the store?" Harry questions, rubbing his eyes from exhaustion but he had woken up at an ungodly hour to talk with you. "It's going ok, busy and dusty but ok... how are things on your end?" You question, going through the binder of things in your lap at the things you still needed to accomplish. You're in the middle of making a new "To Do List" when Harry says something that drops your heart into your stomach. "What?" You question, unsure of if you had heard him correctly or if the lack of sleep was catching up with you. "This is ridiculous... why are we together if we can't even see one another? I don't like this, I don't want us to be like this," Harry admits, glancing down at his feet when you fall back in your chair in disbelief. "But, I thought this was what you wanted?" You're fighting the urge to cry because this is more than Harry missing you and you missing him. "It was, is... I don't know what I want anymore. I haven't seen you, properly seen you, in three months and that's something I know I don't want. We're both so busy, too busy for one another and this," he gestures between the two of you via the webcam of his MacBook, "Isn't fair to either one of us." His words run through your mind, the words clouding your frontal lobe and all you can hear is him saying he doesn't want you. "You, don't want me?" You choke on tears, Harry sighing on the other end before he glances up at you. Tears are brimming in his blue eyes and he swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't know," he finally admits, scrubbing his face with his large hands and you nod. "I... we haven't been working for a long time," you cry softly, trying desperately to push the tears off your cheeks before he can see but you note that he's letting his own tears fall freely. "I know... maybe, maybe we just need a break?" Harry questions, leaning forward and you laugh in pain at his words. "That's pussy shit Harry... either we stay together or we don't. There are no breaks in real life, only on TV," you assure, staring into the camera and Harry nods. "Then... I think it's best we end this. It's not fair to me or you to be together but not be together," he finally says after ten minutes worth of agonizing silence. "Ok," you sigh simply, shoulders slouching in defeat and you berate yourself for not fighting him on the issue. But, you knew he was right. "I'm still here, if you need anything. Please, don't hesitate to let me know," Harry begs and you nod but you know he's the last person you'll call. You end the Skype call at his words, crawl into your childhood bed, and cry yourself to sleep. You find it ironic when you wake the next morning after the longest nights sleep in four months.

Liam: "I didn't actually mean for you to get out," Liam reminds you, seated at the edge of the bed as you bustle around him. "Liam, we can't keep doing this. Fighting and saying nasty things and threatening to leave only to go back on those words the next day," you sigh, turning from the clothes you'd been pulling from the closet to stare at him. "I don't know how else to fight with you... I say things I don't mean, you say things you don't mean, then we make up and everything's fine... why is this different?" He begs to know, begging to know the workings of your brain and you give him an exasperated laugh. "Because Liam, we're adults. You can't tell me to get out every time we fight... last night was the last time you'll ever tell me to get out," you sigh, turning to continue your hauling of clothes from hangers to the suitcase on the floor behind you. "Liam," you sigh in a whisper when his strong, inked arms wrap around your waist. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me," he asks sadly, nuzzling your neck with the tip of his nose and you remind yourself to stay strong while staring up at the ceiling. "I have to," you remind him softly, pulling from his hold to continue your pursuit of gathering everything you own. "I'm sorry, ok. I'm sorry, please... just, don't go. Stay with me," Liam begs again, turning you to face him and you finally see the tears rolling down his cheeks and over his chin. "I can't... I don't want to stay somewhere that will never really be mine. This is your place Liam, and every time we fight I'm painfully reminded that you'll never think of this place as ours. I deserve more than that, I deserve more than you've given me." You state with finality, turning your back to him to gather all your makeup and toss it all into the box at your feet. You know sorting through it will be a bitch but at this point, you have to get out of this house. You have to get away from Liam before you loose the strength you've gathered to leave him. "Fine, then leave. I'm obviously not important enough for you to stay, so leave. Here, I'll even help you!" Liam shouts, grabbing the suitcase at his feet to drag it to the door. "Liam... stop it! Liam, STOP" You scream, watching as he tosses it out of his front door and onto the sidewalk before he stomps back down the hall to do the same with all your other things. You note, however, that he's more careful with your box of makeup but you can tell he's doing this out of heartbreak more so than out of anger. So, you stand back and Liam throw all your things out onto the curb and watch from the doorway as he shoves everything into your car before he turns to you. He's breathing heavily, nostrils flaring in anger and you can't decide what's harder for him; the exercitation of lifting all your things or the energy he's putting in to not crying. "Go, go on... leave, it's what you want so leave," Liam says, pointing to your car and you sigh. "Liam... you've got the tattoos and the piercings and you look so manly, so dangerous but... you're just a little boy, a scared little boy too afraid to admit he's hurt," you cry softly, touching your fingertips to his cheek gently before brushing his escaped tears away. "I love you Liam and when you can let yourself love me, really love me back... maybe I'll still be waiting. You're not your father and your father's mistakes are not your own, you'll always be alone until your realize that. Goodbye Liam," you whisper, fighting the tears before you slid into your car and drive away. Liam returns to his room and glances around, all of your things are gone. The only reminder he has that you were ever in his home are the paisley sheets and a tube of bright pink lipstick that had rolled beneath the bed. He contemplates tossing both but instead, clutches at the sheets that still smell like you and keeps the lipstick on the counter in the bathroom.