It all started with a CD

Chapter 14

The next day, after a night with little sleep and a lot of making out, Harry sadly left way too early. While I'm on my way to the shop, all I can think about is his dimpled smile. I don't know why, but since yesterday, I think differently of him. It's just that I've never seen him like that. He just didn't seem like a bottom-person before.

God, this sounds so fucking weird. I don't like that I think like that, but I sadly can't change it.

When I arrive in our shop, Fiona is- as expected- standing behind the counter. She looks miserable. The roots of her dark hair are growing out of the blue colour, her shoulders are hanging and she's very pale. Her glasses are nowhere to be seen and her clothes are crumpled. She doesn't even wear makeup, which never happens. She really doesn't look healthy.

"Fiona, love!", I mumble as I go over to her. She looks down at me and sighs. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. "You look like shit. Are you aware of that?"

"Very much", she mutters.

"Oh, Fiona. What's wrong?"

She raises an eyebrow. She looks kind of angry. "I've been like this for a whole month and you wanna care now?!"

"I'm so fucking sorry, Fiona, you know that I'm not usually like this. I know that I treated you like shit, and you don't deserve it."

"Then why did you do that?!" She crosses her arms, backing away. "I needed you as my best friend, and you were never there."

"I'm so sorry, I was just so occupied with...", I only mumble the last part. Fiona frowns. "With Harry. It's always Harry, some random man you don't even know." She's one to talk. "You do realise that you're the one who always says 'bros before hoes'?"

"Hey, Harry is not a slut."

"Aaand you're defending him."

"Fiona, I know that I messed up because I was too busy with myself, but don't blame him! It's not his fault."

She angrily closes her eyes, trying to cool her anger down. "You're right", she breathes out, "it's not his fault that you're a fucking jerk."

"Exactly. It's my fault." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Fiona, I-"

"Louis, I needed you. You were nowhere to be seen."

"You didn't show up here."

"Okay, so why didn't you ask me if I was fine?"

"I actually did."

"And how did I react? I was literally screaming for help and you were too blind to see."

"I know. I was selfish." I sit down on the counter. "C'mon, love, sit down and tell me what's bothering you. I want to help now. Considering I still can."

"Y-you do." She closes her eyes again, looking distressed. "I- I... oh my god." Tears escape the corners of her eyes, and I fumble for tissues, handing her them. She grabs them thankfully and blows her nose. I comfortingly rub her back. I feel so fucking bad. I'm the worst friend in the world.

"Take a deep breath, and then tell me."

"Yeah..." She nods. This feels unfamiliar. Fiona never cries. She's the typical Colombian girl; loud, bossy, and extravagant. She seems to have a perfect life, no problems, no pain.

"Chris", she mumbles. I raise my eyebrows. So that's what this is about? Heartbreak? Because damn, I'm bad at this topic. I am usually the one who's crying about a broken heart, not the one who's giving advice and trying to make things better.

"What did he do?", I ask carefully. She shakes her head. "He did nothing... well he did, but not to hurt me... he just..." Her breath starts to go faster, and the tears begin to fall down again.