Falling to Pieces // l.t.

Two

Two ~ Louis

Don't you just hate it when people stare at you because you look different? I don't know about you, but it pisses me off.

"Lou, did you see that weird girl staring at you?" Niall slapped my shoulder.

"Yeah, I did," I mumbled and carried on walking towards the tattoo parlour.

I felt like getting another piercing, maybe one on my eyebrow - since I was seventeen, I didn't need my bloody parent's permission. We walked in laughing, the bell on the door chiming as we did so, and was greeted by the owner, Dan.

"Afternoon lads, what can I do for you all?" He said, walking in front of the counter.

"I'm getting another piercing," I announced, heading towards the fake leather chair and sitting down.

"What type today, mate?" Dam chuckled as he followed me.

"Left eyebrow."

I might have just sounded a bit rude, but everyone knows that I have attitude problems. My parents have just learned to deal with a son who's 'off the rails' because I don't think I'm going to change any time soon.

Dan pulled on a pair of tight rubber gloves, snapping them against his skin, and prepared the needle and barbell. Before I knew it - a sharp, piercing pain shot through my brow bone, and I turned my head towards the mirror when it eased slightly.

"You like, buddy?" Dam chuckled when I smirked at the mirror.

"It's awesome, cheers. How much?" I routed around in my jean pocket for my wallet.

"Nothing - you know the drill," he handed me an A5 sheet of paper explaining how to look after it - I had so many of them.

"Yeah, see you Dan," I flicked two fingers in his direction, signalling goodbye, and walked out of the parlour to meet the boys.

The thick scent of cigarette smoke clouded the atmosphere as I left the shop and noticed the boys larking around, sitting on the bicycle stands. I stuffed my hands deep in the pockets of my leather jacket and strode over to them - hearing 'The Drug In Me Is You' by Falling In Reverse blasting from Zayn's pocket.

"Right lads, let's go to some club or shit."

We could get into any club we wanted because we have fake IDs for one thing - but we don't need them because the bouncers get a little intimidated by us. During the walk there, the boys started nudging each other, talking about "getting it off" tonight. To be honest, all I need to do right now is get hammered and have a good time.

"IDs please," the burly bouncer stood before us, arms folded across his chest.

Everyone displayed their 'identification' and continued through the door. The first place we went to was the bar, ordering beers all round. I downed mine in a few seconds and continued to order them - becoming even more unaware of my actions with every pint. After (maybe) five pints, I stumbled off of my stool, grabbed the first girl I saw and started to dance with her.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged out of the club by another bouncer for beating the ass of the girl's boyfriend. Police escorted me back home, where my parents just waved it off - tired of dealing with me. Staggering up the stairs, almost falling on my face as I tripped over each step, I managed to just make it to my bedroom before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Unconscious, oblivious to my parents hollering at each other downstairs.