I Dream A Dream

Chapter 8: Night owl

It's 2:45 am, just me, some food, a blanket and a movie. Sometimes I feel like I don't need a movie, I just need my dreams. My life is so surreal that even my dreams make me feel like living is a stylised piece of drama. But for now I want to stay awake, just like I used to when I was young; I'd be at a sleepover and me and my mates would always get a bottle of whipped cream and a feather from the old feather pens and always get the same reaction; whipped cream face palm, and always that same feeling that would tickle our funny bone. Life then. Life now.

The vibration of my phone hit me awake inside.

Zayn.

"Hey buddy."

I could hear loud music banging in the background.

"Zayn, where are you?"

I shouted loudly even though I was in a quiet area.

"Um, there's a fight going on actually, and I'm in a club with Liam, and well Liam got into a fight with this kid whose like 18 and I can't get through the crowd, can you come down, we're at the Funky Buddha"

Zayn hesitated whilst screaming over the top whistles and upbeat music and yells of the word "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT." Being repeated for nearly the 10 billionth time I've been on the phone.

"Okay, okay I'm on my way."

Terrified, I was terrified. This has never happened before. Liam knows best not to fight, especially in public with the paps everywhere and people encouraging him.

An hour later I finally got there. Everything was clear, only two sweepers swept the mess of 11 glass bottles and heaps of blood pondering everywhere. I called for Liam and Zayn but I got no reply. Dialling the numbers and calling repeatedly was no use as both of their phones were off. Asking the cleaners and staff was useless as everyone was being incredibly and annoyingly vague. I stood outside the club for half an hour, and still was stuck on that spot for another 20 minutes. I couldn't call no one as my phone died, I couldn't search because all streets were empty, and I couldn't question because no answer was served.

Home? I thought. It was the only option. Another hour later I got home. It was now 5am. There were two cars parked three metres away from my doorstep.

"Harry"

I heard a weak, droned voice.

Liam and Zayn were found sat in my living room.

"Liam"

I gasped, mouth hung open, heart thumping in my chest, ripping my flesh to burst out. I felt a salty substance roll off my cheek. Liam was covered in bruises and cuts and dry blood.

"How? Why?"

Zayn rested his hand on my shoulder, backing me away, making me sit beside him.

"A kid came in with a packet with full of drugs and tried to, let's just say, tried drugging Liam and Liam couldn't do anything but punch him to back off because he wouldn't piss off. Must say, that kid trains hard!"

He said with uneasiness.

"Why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

Why. Why. Why. I questioned myself.

"Doc said Liam was alright, he gave some tablets and said he'd come in the morning, and sorry for barging in here without telling you, Liam forgot his address and mines too far."

Zayn realised what he said and elaborated.

"No no, I mean, he was too wounded to remember his address so, he does know it, y'know what I mean Harry"

"Um yeah, I think we should take Liam home, he'll feel more comfortable and at ease."

I was still in shock. Zayn nodded in agreement and Liam whined in agreement too.

My thoughts: muddled.

My feelings: ambivalent.

My head: spinning.