Life after Payne

Chapter 4

I stood up suddenly, pacing the small room as if moving could somehow shake off the suffocating weight in my chest. But it didn't help. Every step felt heavier, every breath shallower. My mind raced with questions I couldn't answer. Had Liam known how much he meant to me? 

I found myself standing by the window, staring out at nothing in particular. The city lights blurred in vision, and it took me a moment to realize tears were streaming down my face. I wiped at them roughly, almost angrily, but they kept coming.

Grief had a strange way of sneaking up on me. One moment, I was numb, disconnected, like it wasn't real. The next, it hit me full force, a tidal wave of pain and regret that left me gasping for air.

I thought about Louis again, about the way his voice had cracked when he said Liam's name. They were all hurting, all grappling with the same loss in their own ways. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I should have done more, been there more, been better.

Sliding down against the wall, I sat on the floor, my knees pulled to my chest. I stared at the phone on the couch, half-expecting it to ring again, as if someone would call and tell me it wasn't true. That Liam was fine, that this was some cruel misunderstanding. But deep down, I knew that call wouldn't come.

Liam was gone. And with him, a part of our history, our brotherhood, was gone too.

I let out a shaky breath, resting my forehead on my knees as the tears came freely now. I didn't care anymore if they did. The grief was too heavy to hold back, too raw to ignore.

For the first time in years, I felt the overwhelming urge to reach out—to Louis, to Harry, to Niall. To someone. Because even though we were scattered, even though time and distance had pulled us all apart, this loss was something we all shared. It was a wound we'd all carry, a reminder of the bond that we once had, and the piece we'd lost forever.

But for now, I stayed there, on the floor, letting the grief take over. It wasn't much, but it was all I could do.

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The air hung heavy with silence as I stepped outside, the sky a dull gray, mirroring the weight in my heart. Each footfall felt like a reminder of loss, the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes echoing in the stillness.

I wandered down the familiar path, but everything felt altered—trees stood bare, their branches like skeletal hands reaching for something lost.

The chill of the wind cut through me, a stark contrast to the warmth of memories that seemed to linger just out of reach.

With each step, I fought against the tide of grief, searching for solace in the surroundings that now felt foreign. I inhaled deeply, the scent of damp earth mingling with the hint of smoke from distant chimneys, grounding me in the moment, yet reminding me of the emptiness that had settled in my chest. The sky threatened rain, and I welcomed the thought—maybe the heavens would weep alongside me, washing away the heaviness of this walk.

Memories of the boyband flooded back like a cherished playlist, each note evoking a moment frozen in time. I could see us gathered in a friend's living room, posters plastered on the walls, our voices harmonizing with their songs, laughter spilling over as we attempted to choreograph dance moves. The thrill of anticipation before concerts was electric, every detail vivid—the craziness on the stage, the buzz of excitement in the air, and the feeling of unity among fans, all singing in unison.

If I could only go back... then none of this would have happened.

Suddenly the sound of clicking shutters shattered the moment. A paparazzi appeared from nowhere, camera aimed directly at me, capturing the surprise etched on my face.