The Actress

Past and Present

Almaro's POV:

The ambiance in the room has deepened in a matter of seconds, it's way more serious now. Louis nor I feel the need to constantly snicker at each other anymore, nobody is being sassy. Tonight it's the night of the bald truth.

Yeah, for me than.

Niall looks at me intently, his bright blue eyes piercing my soul. And it's not only him. Everyone looks at me intently. It's my turn to ask a question. And a question I will ask.

"Louis. Have you ever considered committing suicide?"

Everyone gaps, turning their head to the shocked Louis. It's my first serious question of the night, and a very extreme one that is. I mean, suicide?

Louis quietly nods his head, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"How'd you know?"

I smile weakly, my eyes locked with his, as if we're telepathically sharing our thoughts.

"Because you're so much like me."

It might seem a totally vague answer for the others, but I can see at the look in Louis' eyes that he understands me. We understand each other.

I see Louis make a gesture with his head followed by a few mouthed words, and I nod in response. Of course I'm gonna talk with him. He needs to talk about it with someone. I need someone to talk to.

After the commotion about Louis' answer has died down, Louis looks me straight in the eyes again. This is how the past few questions went, someone asks me, then I ask someone, and someone asks me again. Everyone wants to know me. They don't dare to go much personal tough, considering my questions aren't personal either. But now after this...

"How'd you get all wounded?" Louis interrupts my thoughts, concern clear in his examining eyes. Yeah  this is why Louis is such a good friend. I hope he's my friend.

"My father. Beer bottle," I respond quietly. "He was drunk."

Louis looks at me intently, his glance thoughtful, worried, his eyebrows furrowed. Not only for a few seconds, but also during my next question to Zayn. (Yes I figured Devon's name is Zayn.)

"Ever been heart broken?"

Instead of looking at Zayn, I look at Louis, who still sits there, his knees hugged to his body, his blueish grey eyes looking in mine, a frown still on his face.

"Actually, yes. Now, what's up with living in a hotel?" I hear Louis', I mean Zayn's voice coming from somewhere. Louis' glance on me seems to intensify, his eyes looking straight into my heart. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, making it look like he's deep in thoughts. Which he probably is.

I sigh and look deep into his eyes, not like I've any other choice seeing that his eyes are captivating mine, but oh well. It takes a few seconds before the answer actually leaves my lips.

"My father kicked me out this morning. I'm homeless."

Louis and I keep our eyes locked, his frown even more prominent on his face than before. Then, all of a sudden, he sighs and looks away, leaving me slightly lost.

"We're stopping the game," Louis demands with a soft voice, like he's about to cry. It's then that I know something is up.

I quickly lock eyes with Louis, then nod. Harry nudges Louis and they, too, exchange a look, before Louis rises to his feet.

"Come Almaro. I'm gonna show you the guest room. You're staying here."

I nod and follow Louis upstairs to a pretty nice room. I, however, don't pay very much attention to the interior but just sit down on the bed. Louis plumps dowm next to me, fiddling with his thumbs.

"You're the same," he says softly, after a few seconds of silence. "Practically the same."

I nod, sighing.

"We are. I know we are."

Louis nods knowingly. "I'm glad I've met you."

"Yes. You don't even know."

Louis turns his head, his eyes locked on the side of my head while I keep staring forward. "I wanna know."

I sigh. "I trust you, you know that right?"

Louis looks at me with soft eyes, saying more than words could ever do. "I know. Just let it all flow."

And that's when I start to explain about Mom leaving us, Dad starting to drink and do drugs, the abusing, school, more abusing, life, school, until I come to the point where I tell what happened this morning, telling Louis pretty much my life story.

Besides that I'm a girl. That's my little secret.

Louis is surprisingly silent during the story, occasionally nodding or patting my back. In his eyes I read much of understanding, and I know I got the right person to tell this to.

"That's why I'm being sassy all the time," I finish, looking at the ground. "That's why I'm constantly joking and trying to be funny. I want to make people laugh, because I know how much happiness is worth."

It's silent for a few moments, and when I quickly look up to Louis I see him staring in the distance, a frown on his face, probably deep in thoughts.

"I understand," he mutters at least, his head turning a bit to look me straight in the eyes. "I understand everything. And I'm so sorry for you just because I know how hard it is." His eyes flicker down and a hands runs trough his soft hair. "I know exactly how hard things can be."

I close my eyes tightly, preparing for what's gonna come. "How do you know? What..."

I don't finish my sentence, but I know Louis knows exactly what I want to say. When I open my eyes, he's looking down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. As soon as he notices me looking, he looks up and sighs.

"You know, I really wanna tell someone, and it's not that I don't trust you because you're in fact the only one I think I can trust with this, but you've already so much to bear and it wouldn't be fair to place my worries on your shoulders."

I smile at him, a weak smile which was meant to be reassuring. My hand reaches up to touch his shoulder, afraid to touch his slightly wet face. I'm supposed to act like a boy after all.

"Don't worry about that Louis. It's perfectly fine. I told you my worries, now it's your turn to tell yours. Shared worries are less worries, remember? Together we'll be stronger, and you need someone to talk to. I wanna help you. So just tell me."

I see a tear scrolling out of Louis' eye, his eyelids close and the tear streams further down his cheek. When he opens his eyes again, they're glassy and sad.

"Are you sure?" his voice quivers. "You don't have to..."

Now I don't care about norms anymore but just pull him in a tight hug, rubbing one hand over his back and the other trough his soft hair.

"It's okay Lou. Just spill."

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