Just a Crush: Dear Diary (Oli Sykes)

Chapter Twenty-four: Truth

'I keep waiting for something to happen, but it hasn't yet and I don't know if he's just so good at pretending while we're on stage or if he actually feels the same way. It's frustrating, and I hate it. I hate it because I can't stop thinking about him, and because we're two days away from London and I won't see him for such a long time... what if he ghosts me again? I don't know how I'll handle it after these two and a half weeks together. We're closer than we've ever been. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of how this feels, and I'm afraid of how he'll react to reading the song lyrics I've wrote. Will he hate me? He might. I don't want to ruin our friendship. We've spent every waking moment together since our chat in Canterbury. We're proper mates now. At least, I think we are. He's so bloody confusing!!! Sometimes, he holds my hand, and I adore it when he does that. I keep trying to remind myself to stop whatever feelings for him that have awoken inside of me, but how can I do that when he calls me love, and flirts with me, and holds my hand, and let's me fall asleep on him when we drive from one place to another? He doesn't even react to the lads making fun of us anymore. He laughs when they do. He's hugged me so many times by now... and he's kissed my cheek twice. I've fallen asleep in his bed every time in the past three nights during our film time. I'd woken up in mine each time, though. I'll really miss him, but I think it's a good thing that we won't see each other until October. I need to get over him. This isn't going anywhere...'

"Dear passengers, we have reached our last stop before Sheffield," Lee announced dramatically as he parked in front of my house. I laughed, even though I was quite honestly gutted that the two weeks of tour had gone by so quickly. "Thank you for this amazing opportunity," I addressed the entire band, "It was a blast, and I'll proper miss you lot," I said. "You could always just run away from home and tour with us until October," Mickey joked. "Very tempting," I smiled. "We'll miss you, too, Thomas," Jordan turned around in his seat. "Send us the link once you've put your song up on YouTube, yeah?" Matt added. "Of course," I said, feeling a knot in my stomach. "I'll be off then. Talk soon, yeah?" I said and exited the car. "I'll just help her with her luggage. Be right back," I heard Oli say behind me. I think I also heard some snogging noises before the car door closed. "Bloody wankers," Oli muttered under his breath. I laughed, and he smiled at me with that smile of his that had the acrobat in my stomach doing summersaults every time. I walked around to the back of the van and pulled out my suitcase, backpack, and my guitar. I could hear the lads laughing in the front. I rolled my eyes and bid them farewell before closing the double doors of the trunk. "Here, I'll take this for you," Oli said and grabbed my suitcase. "And they say that chivalry is dead," I joked. "That's because they haven't met me yet," he winked. "How unfortunate for them," I said. "Truly," he nodded. We laughed together as we walked toward my front door. I opened the front pocket of my bag and took out the keys before I unlocked the door. I let Oli in first and then I closed the door after us. "That's quite chivalrous, too, y'know, miss Thomas," he noted. "Aye, I learned the art of chivalry in lorry school," I told him. "Was that before or after you learned how to piss standing up?" Oli asked. "After, of course. You can't be a proper gentleman with a full bladder, can you?" I told him. "Blimey, I've never thought of it that way, me," his eyes widened. "See, that's why you need me, Olober, to learn new things every day," I explained. "You're absolutely right, love, I do need you," he nodded with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes anymore. I sighed and began walking toward my room. He was right behind me. I dropped my backpack on my bed, and placed the guitar case on the music carpet. "Where d'you want this?" Oli asked, gesturing toward the suitcase. "You can just leave it by the door. I have to unpack and put the dirty clothing in the bin," I said. He nodded and did as instructed. I shuffled to my bed and sat down. I didn't want him to leave, but I didn't know what to say.

"It's time," he spoke, sitting next to me. I was a bit confused for a moment about what he'd meant. "It's time you finally showed me your song," he reiterated, reading me like a bloody book. "Can't you wait a bit longer?" I asked. "You gave me your word, Thomas," he narrowed his eyes at me playfully. "I don't want you to hate me," I muttered. "I could never hate you, love," he nudged me with his shoulder. "You don't know that," I pointed out. "Just show me the bloody song, Leonora," he laughed. I sighed, walked to the music carpet, and pulled my notepad out of my guitar case. I found the page with the song written on it and took it to him reluctantly. He smiled at me before looking down at the page. His smile slowly faded into an unreadable expression. His eybrows knit together as he stared at the lyrics. I watched him, my stomach dropping lower and lower, the longer he took. Aye, I was an idiot for not showing the song to him as soon as I'd wrote it. Back then, I could've said it was about Remington, or maybe just about love in general. By postponing this moment, by refusing to show him the song until now, I'd made a huge deal out of it. I'd made it obvious who this was about. I think I've done a good job of hiding my feelings up until now. The worst part of all is that it was still a crush when I'd wrote the blasted song. I mean, it's still just a crush, but a bit stronger now than it was before. However, in the song, I'd used the word love so generously he might think that I actually am in love with him.

He hadn't ran away yet, which was a good sign. But he did stare at the notepad for a good five minutes, which was longer than needed to just read the words. It was excruciating and, quite honestly, a bit mortifying. "I'm sorry," I said before I could stop myself. He looked up from the page and into my eyes. "Why are you sorry? You can't help the way you feel," he shrugged and stood up. My heart sank at his defeated tone. Was it really so awful to think I might fancy him? "Is that all you have to say?" I asked. "I've promised you I'd try being better for you. Part of that is keeping some of my thoughts to myself," he shrugged. "Not when it concerns this," I said and stood, too. "I can't change your mind about this," he countered, "it wouldn't be fair of me." I was a bit taken aback by that. "So, you're okay with it?" I asked. "I'm trying to be, I really am," he muttered, staring at the floor. "Do you hate me?" I asked quietly. "No, of course not. If anything, I hate myself right now," he admitted. "Because of the song?" I asked, eyebrows knit together. He didn't answer. "Oli, I'm really sorry. I promise I tried not feeling the way I do," I pleaded. "Why? He seemed to feel the same way. I'd say go for it," he shrugged with his hands in his pockets. "What?" I asked. "Remington. Although love might be a strong word after such a short time. But it's really none of my business, is it? I said I wouldn't get jealous over him anymore, so... have you shown him the song? I'll bet he liked it," he tried smiling, although it was more of a grimace. "What's Remington got to do with this?" I asked. "You love him," he stated. "What? No, I don't. It might be easier if I fancied him," I scoffed sarcastically. "Sorry?" He asked. "I don't fancy Remmy," I said. "What's this song about then?" He seemed confused. I stared at him with wide eyes. He didn't know. It wasn't obvious to him. Maybe I could've taken advantage of that. "Isn't it clear?" I asked instead. "Not at all," he shook his head. "Oh," I said.

We stood in awkward silence, both of us looking at the floor. "Right, uh, so, I guess, I'll see you in October, then," he cleared his throat. "You'll write to me, won't you?" I asked. "Of course," he smiled tightly. "Why don't I believe you?" I frowned. "I will. You have my word," he said. I nodded silently. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he'd apparently decided against it. He gave a firm nod and left. As I heard the front door close behind him, my heart dropped.

I sat back on my bed and stared at the floor. I'd heard the phrase 'the silence was deafening' before. It truly was. It was like a loud ringing in my ear. I didn't like it at all. I let my back hit the mattress, and I closed my eyes. There was so much I wished I'd said. Why didn't I tell him I wanted to hug him? Why didn't I just do it? Why did I let him leave without a word? Is that all our friendship's boiled down to? This awful silence? No proper farewell, just a wordless departure? How utterly disappointing.

I quickly stood up when I heard the front door open again. I hastily made my way to the foyer to see who it was. I couldn't stop the surprised smile that replaced my confusion. There was a look of determination on his face as he looked at me. "Is anything the matter?" I asked. "Who was your song about?" He took a step toward me. My smile fell. "Does it matter?" I asked, taken aback. "Was it about me?" He questioned. "You can't take music at face value," I tried getting out of the hole I'd dug for myself. "Was it about me, Leonora?" He took another step closer. "Why do you need to know that? Can't we just move on? Continue this friendship and not let a stupid song I wrote when I was hurting ruin it?" I pleaded. "Just answer me," he demanded. I exhaled slowly, and then I nodded, not daring to look at him. "I'm really sorry, Oli. I know you've asked me to stop fancying you, and I am trying, but it's really difficult when you're there all the time. Don't worry, I'll get over this silly crush by October. I promise," I said, my voice shaking. I was a bit afraid of the unreadable expression on his face. I didn't want him to start shouting at me and call me names. It would destroy me. "Do you hate me?" I asked for the third time that day. "Never," he shook his head with furrowed brows. "Oli," I began, but he interrupted me with a tight hug. It took me a moment to realise what was happening. I guess it meant he wasn't angry with me. I hugged him back. "I'll stop having these feelings by October. You have my word," I whispered. "Don't," I heard him say. I loosened my grip on him just enough to look at his face. He was staring down at me with a sad smile. "I'll see you soon," he kissed my cheek and left. This time for real.