All of my 5sos work

Reverse

What if you were the one who left him behind? Reverse the roles. 

We were 14, I was a dreamer, the optimist. He was the logical one, he kept me grounded. As a pair we were an odd sort, complete opposites yet somehow we made it work. Everyone knew the two of us were best friends, always had been, we always thought we would be too. 

Trying to remember the exact details is an odd occurrence, one minute I was sat posting videos of myself singing, playing the piano on YouTube and the next thing I know is that I'm receiving an email from a record label. My first reaction was one I'm not proud of, I threw up. Not pleasant I know, I think it was because no one had ever really heard me sing, or if they did they weren't the sort to pay much attention. So, the chance to actually sing for a living was unexpected, the sort of thing you'd dream about but never grasp upon. 

Second reaction: scream. I screamed so loud my parents thought I somehow was murdered... Third reaction: Run to my best friends house. The run hurt, it burned my lungs and my thighs more than anything. The vague memory of knowing I looked like a sloppy runner as if I were being chased by a zombie and the sheen of sweat still haunts me to this day but not as much as him lingering in my memory. 

He was the one to open the door, rather than his parents. Young boyish smile that ghosted his lips crept onto his face but was soon replaced with fear that stretched from his mouth to those chestnut brown eyes. The panting that prevented me from speaking, releasing the words from my system. Looking back I wish I could've held them for longer, the news had not fully sunk in at that point and I don't think I could've prepared myself for what happened next. 

The words came out quickly, rushed with excitement. They were allowed to hang in the air around us on his porch, just floating in the atmosphere, now a statement; no longer a daydream. I cried. I cried hard after that. My first break down over my dreams becoming reality, one of the many I've endured in the past five years, not all I can say I am proud of. 

His arms wrapped around my weak body, trying to hold me up as I crumpled to the ground. In that moment it hit me like a ton of bricks, knowing that if I accepted the offer then nothing would be the same again. 

If only I realised that meant for him too. 

We sat in his room, even thinking about it I can still pin point every poster, every album and every time he'd try to hide dirty washing in the corner out of sight. Smiling to myself I can still imagine that light wholesome laugh that made my day, no matter the situation. We spoke for hours, the orange hue that glowed through his window darkened as we reflected over it all, the ifs of taking the offer.

He walked me home, the moonlight strong and a cluster of stars out for what felt like just the two of us. I regret not thinking more of that simple moment, I should've held his hand, not clung to his arm. I wish I had taken note of that look he always wore when he saw me, how I just felt better around him- something that I can't save I've experienced since. 

The aura he had still lingers yet, nothing can replace it. I've tried forcing something in its place, a new feeling, a different feeling to distract myself unknowingly. But nothing truly matched to the feeling and affect he had on me with a simple smile. 

Now I stand, headphones on and microphone in front of me. Focusing on my reflection in the glass I zone out, his arms come from behind and his gentle fingertips trace my arms, along the one tattoo on my wrist. With a blink of an eye my name is being called, "Love you doing alright in there?" Blinking multiple times his figure is gone from behind mine. 

Focusing back on the other side of the glass my producer sits, looking at me with slight concern. Rocking back and forth on my heels I nod, coughing lightly and wait for the music to flood my ears and sing angelically. 

I just wish I could knock the nostalgia, if only.