The lights

1

Louis has had social anxiety for as long as he can remember. A blinding sense of panic and claustrophobia that consumes his body and makes him want to shrivel from the inside out. A feeling that often surfaces on public transport. Which is unfortunate, seeing as his dream job is right across London - and seeing as owning a car in London is essentially useless, he is left with one option. The Tube.
It's not particularly the transport that freaks Louis out. It's more the idea of being in such close proximity to other people - strangers at that. Mind racing at a million miles a minute at the endless possibilities about what they could be thinking about him, how they're probably all looking at him and judging him, he probably looks so stupid right now, all shaky and....He has yet to find a way to shut up the critical voices that give him grief for the majority of hours in the day. His only escape has been song writing, and he knows he is so, so lucky to have landed this idyllic job in his favourite city fresh out of Uni, especially one offering enough to cover the expenses of living in London. A quiet studio, isolated and soundproofed, here he can spend hours getting lost in the movements and texture of the music, and the lyrics that accompany them. He loves it. And it is his only motivation for putting himself through hell and back every day.
Its two months in when he reaches breaking point. Fighting panic attacks is draining, and Louis is finding himself becoming more and more rundown - to the point where even Liam, his new co-worker, is noticing something's wrong.
"Louis, what's up?" Liam asks finally after the third day in a row of Louis turning up to work looking and acting akin to a startled rabbit.
"Nothing, Liam"
"Doesn't look like nothing."
Louis sighed, raking a hand through his scruffy fringe.
"You just, you won't understand."
Liam hummed, letting Louis settle himself behind the keys of the grand piano, sipping his mandatory morning tea, before pressing further.
"Do you have anxiety Louis?"
Louis nearly choked on his tea - just the mention of the word was enough to get his pulse rising again. He stayed silent, eyes trained on his fingers, which were fumbling anxiously in his lap. Liam picked up on the sudden mood change, taking the lack of an answer as a potential yes. He placed a comforting hand on Louis shoulder, the tension in his muscles a clear indication that Louis hackles were up.
"Lou, I'm not going to judge you. It's okay, just tell me?"
Louis tried to swallow, but already the anxiety held an iron grip on his throat. He could feel the pressure building in his lungs, creating a vacuum where the oxygenated air once was. Liam watched as Louis body seemingly fought to draw breath, as though he was trying to breathe through lead more than normal air – he watched as the bouncing of Louis knee hastened, the nibbling of his fingers beginning to draw blood. He moved slowly, but with purpose – removing Louis hands from his mouth, and holding them to his knees, pressing down to stop the now erratic jitter. He crouched down, bringing himself to eye level with the nervous lad.
"Breathe, Louis. Breathe in..."
Louis closed his eyes, trying to focus on Liam's soft voice, cutting clear and crisp through the alarms going off inside his brain.
The clock on the wall counted the minutes as they passed. Louis focused on the gentle ticking – inhaled deeply, feeling the cool air entering his lungs. With each breath, each second that ticked by, he felt the pressure decrease more and more – until eventually his breathing slowed to a normal pace.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, meeting the calm, albeit concerned look in Liam's. He inclined his head slightly, removing his hands from where they were pressed under Liam's palms, and stroked the ivory keys on the piano with his delicate fingers.
"How did you know what to do?" he turned back to Liam, meeting his watchful gaze once more.
"My cousin dealt with anxiety for a few years in their teens." Louis nodded again, casting his eyes back down to the piano. He pressed the keys gently, feeling the harmonies float through the silent room, the piano humming softly under his fingertips. He continued to play, a soft, sad melody.
"Social anxiety. Officially diagnosed when I was fourteen, but I think it's been around longer. Nothing has helped with it yet – mostly because I couldn't ever find a counsellor I actually liked, so I gave up. It's not as bad as it could be - I can leave the house – but it's bad in crowds, and really bad on public transport-"
"Which is why you come into work every day looking like you're on the brink of having a breakdown..."
"Yup. Cause most of the time, I am. But Y'know, you learn to deal with it. It doesn't get easier, but it becomes part of life. And music has always been my escape – the job is worth it, almost."
Louis continued to play, focusing on the melody rather than the pity he knew would be in Liam's eyes. That wasn't something he wanted to see. He didn't ever want to be pitied – it made him feel weak, weaker than he already felt. He didn't need it.
"Have you thought about-"
"Too expensive. NHS don't cover for adults - not for counselling for mild social anxiety."
Liam seemed to drop the subject after Louis curt statement, the rest of the day spent focused on the song they had been working on – but Louis didn't miss the extra tightness in their goodbye hug, the lingering statement that was left unsaid – good luck.
The ride home was equally awful, and it took everything Louis had not to rush straight to bed once he finally pushed through the door to his tiny one bedroom flat in the outskirts of London, forcing himself to make dinner first. Later, once he was lying in bed, clean duvet pulled high up to his chin and hair still damp from the shower, he finally felt the anxious knot in his chest began to unravel, and he drifted into the comforting arms of sleep.