I Hate Oliver Sykes (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction) COMPLETE

37. On The Stage, Behind The Curtains.

Oli's prank had fucking shook me. I went back to the hotel, I got in the shower and I cried. I actually fucking cried. I HATED that I was crying, but it was too much. I was totally overwhelmed. Walking into that place and being laughed at by hundreds of people made me feel so stupid and pathetic. My emotions always came out as anger and rage, but on extremely rare occasions it came out in tears, and today it was that. I felt so small. Nobody knew about all of the fucked up things that had happened in my past, not even Paige, but Oli's prank had triggered a traumatic memory deep inside me and I was in the middle of a full-blown breakdown.

As a teenager I'd been bullied and humiliated in almost the exact same way. I'd been made a spectacle of, ridiculed and blindsided on a stage; people pointing and laughing at me just like they had at the night club twenty minutes ago. When I was 13 years old, I had a huge crush on a boy named Justin. He was two grades above me, super popular, and it was kind of a joke within my friend group... they always playfully teased me about it. Anyway, one day, out of nowhere, a couple of his friends told me that he liked me too... they told me that he wanted to meet up with me in secret the next morning, before assembly in the school's performance hall, so of course I agreed to it. I barely slept that night because I was so excited. It felt like the greatest moment of my life. The next day, as instructed, I went onto the stage behind the curtains and I waited for him. I was giddy and nervous, excited and happier than I think I'd ever been because the secret, hidden away meeting spot obviously meant he was going to kiss me; my crush would be my first kiss and I couldn't be happier. I waited and waited, and finally I heard someone backstage about five minutes before the bell. I assumed it was him, so I turned to look, but then the curtains opened behind me and when I turned back around, half of the school was sitting there in the hall. I don't know if they were all in on it, but they all started laughing at me - including my crush, sitting in the front row, pointing up at me and laughing with his friends huddled around him. "Oh, I love you so much Justin!", "Kiss me Justin!" they taunted, just making everybody around them laugh more. I just stood there frozen until a Teacher intervened, and that moment in the club took me right back to that exact moment on the stage as a teenager. It resurfaced all of the misery, the bullying and the teasing that I had to endure after the prank, and how fucking sad I was for a really long time after the fact too. Oli's prank had triggered me so badly that I couldn't even stand to be in the hotel anymore, so I packed my things and I left. I checked myself into a tiny, private room at a backpacker's hostel I'd seen earlier in the day and I just cried. I needed to be alone.

Paige called me about 50 times that night and I ignored her each and every time. I knew she wasn't in on it, but I just couldn't be around anyone, not even her. I was dealing with my inner demons that I very rarely had to battle, and I wasn't going to let anyone see me when I was so weak, defeated and broken. I switched off my phone because I didn't want to deal with it.

I ended up crying myself to sleep at some point, but I woke up at 6am and when I looked at my phone, I had 42 new messages from Paige.

"Summer, where are you?"

"Please tell me you haven't gone home."

"I'm sooooo sorry for what he did to you. He's a jerk!"

"Summer, I'm worried about you. Please tell me you're OK."

"I'm at the your door, let me in."

"Oli said all your stuffs gone.... he feels really bad."

"Summer please respond." ...and the list goes on.

I also had an apology message from an unknown number that was clearly Oli. I'm sure Paige probably forced him to send it, because he wouldn't apologise to me without being coaxed into it. He was a fucking asshole. Aside from making me have an actual breakdown, I really hated that he had ruined what had been the best day on the tour for me too, the first day on the tour that I had genuinely felt really happy. More than that, he'd ruined Paris. I would never be able to go there again now without reliving the feelings of humiliation that he'd forced onto me.

I ignored my phone until lunch time when Paige called for the 30th time that day. She cried when I answered and she seemed relieved when I told her I was still in Paris, so I told her I'd meet her in the lobby while the guys were at soundcheck for their show that night. I buried everything I'd felt and put my 'I don't give a shit' attitude back into effect, and I met her at 2pm with my suitcase in tow after checking out of the hostel. She hugged me so tightly and apologised to me repeatedly, but I fobbed it off like I didn't care. SHE wasn't the one who did it. I told her that I was going to take a train back to London and she burst into tears like an absolute idiot... it wasn't like I said I was moving to the fucking moon or something. She begged me to stay, she tried to talk me out of leaving, then she told me that I couldn't leave and let Oli think he had won. Something about that triggered a response in me because she did have a point, I never let anybody push me around or make me feel like shit. Nobody ever got to think they had defeated me. I decided that I would put on a brave face and stay for one more night before making my next move... to take the glory of 'beating me' away from Oli. She asked if I wanted to stay with her and she'd get Matt to share with Oli, but I knew that wouldn't happen, so I took my stuff up to my... Oli's room.

I had a general idea of when he'd return from soundcheck and I was dreading seeing him. I didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't want to talk to him. He looked surprised to see me when he arrived back at the hotel room and walked in the door... even a bit awkward. I was now the one giving him the silent treatment, letting my anger steer my response, and when he apologised for what he'd done, I just told him to fuck off and leave me alone. He had crossed a line with me and there was no going back from it. I absolutely, truly, completely hated him with every fibre of my soul. He was NEVER going to know how much he broke me though.

I didn't go to their show that night, I just went out for a walk and took a taxi down to see Notre Dame, then sat in the hotel room watching more episodes of the serial killer documentary I had started watching a while back. You could say that I deserved what Oli did to me, you could say that it was no worse than what I did to him, that I was over-reacting, but even if it were true, I really didn't know if I could be around him anymore. He fucking hurt me, he knocked me down in a way nobody had done in a long time, but I would wait until the morning to decide if I was going to take the train home or not.

Oli came back to the room straight after the band's show and apologised again, to which I once again told him to fuck off and leave me alone. He asked me to go out with the group for drinks, but again, I said no. What part of not wanting to be around him, or anyone, did he not fucking understand?

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[OLI]

God, she can be so stubborn. I don't see why she's so fucking bothered anyway? It wasn't that bigger deal, nowhere near as bad as inviting my fucking stalker to the club! 

As if anyone would even remember what happened at the party by now, and who fucking cares anyway? It was harmless! She's totally over-reacting.

Ugh, I just want my room and my freedom back. I'm sick of having to worry about someone else and their feelings. I hate it. I hate this whole situation. I fucking hate that I feel guilty for upsetting her too. 

This is bullshit.