Companionless || Larry Stylinson/Loucel AU

04

The next few days pass by painfully slow. I actually start putting effort into not looking like the definition of depression to keep people off my case, smiling as much as I can, which literally pains me to be quite honest.

"tomorrow we will be starting a new project. I've already explained it to some of you, but for those of you who were absent, I shall do so again." Mr Corden says. "Since this is the highest level music class in the school, the task is to write your own song to perform at the end of the term. You still have nine weeks so don't rush. This is a solo project and please-" he looks over to Stan and his friends, "no songs involving sex, drugs, etc" the class laughs at his straight forwardness, soon being told to calm down. "Right, so the achievement criteria is on Google classroom so you can look at that after class if you'd like."

The class room starts buzzing in excitement at this, or maybe nervousness, but my face stays blank. Surprise?

My eyes subconsciously roam around the class and and land on the blue eyed boy whose name I learnt was Louis. He looked totally out of place in that group of people he considered to be friends. I watch as he mindlessly scribbles on the notepad in front of him, looking not even the least bit interested in the banter his group seemed to be making. He would occasionally look up and laugh when he noticed the others laughing, but as soon as the attention was off him, the straight line would reappear on his lips and his eyes would turn cloudy, as if something was on his mind.

I didn't know how long I'd been staring, but soon enough, none other the Stan realised it. "what the fuck are you looking at?"

I couldn't be bothered reacting to his bull shit, and I really hoped I seemed the tiniest bit fazed by his words, but I couldn't help myself when and my eyes ended up locking with the ones that reminded me of a fucking ocean, and to be honest; I wouldn't mind drowning in them. His gaze was on me, but instead of the smugness and disgust that clouded in the eyes of the others that surrounded him, he had something different. Something like concern, sympathy, maybe even curiosity. The thin line on his thin lips changed, each corner tilting up slightly. I could barely even see it but I did notice it, and it made me feel weird, a feeling that I'd never felt in the seventeen years of my life.

And I hated.

···

I pull the neck of my hood up in attempt to keep the cold breeze from traveling down my back. It was almost five in the afternoon and I was headed to a local gym that I had managed to get a job at. It wasn't full time, but it definitely earned me enough to have the main things I would need. I don't have to worry about clothes or anything, as I still have the same ones from my old life, and although they're not the best, they work.

I sighed in relief when I was finally able to enter a place that was no where near as cold as it was outside. The place had a fair amount of people, but it didn't really bother me because I don't think they would recognise me if they did go to my school. I mean, I'm literally the complete opposite. I have tattoos and temper issues and I am in no way happy - like I make my self out to be.

I'm able to spot the mop of brown hair that I had a slight soft spot for. In other words, the only guy I was able to tolerate. His name is Brad, he's 28, and for some odd reason, he started talking to me while I was in line for coffee and ended up offering me this position. We sat down after he'd offered it to me, at first he was just asking a few questions of what I'm able to offer to the gym, then I found that he was actually good to talk to, he made me feel normal.

"Marcel" he calls from across the room. "Hey" I smile politely. We talk for a while, he ask how I am and I lie, saying I'm good, then he decides to show me the ropes of the place. He tells me that all I have to do around here is help people when they need it, organise a certain section of the equipment, and then I clean the back room, or the "VIP" room as it says, then at the end of my work shift I'm aloud to use what ever as long as I lock up. I'm extremely happy with how this worked out, knowing that I can now come here every morning instead of the other run down, abandoned place that I unfortunately had to come accustomed to.

"hey mate, can I have a little help?" a voice from behind me ask. I turn around from the place where I had been placing the weights in the correct sections and make my way over to the guy. My whole body stiffens when I see who it is, fist tightening at the same time.

Stan.

I look to my right and see Brad nodding at me encouragingly.

Fuck.

I pull on the most painful smile I've ever had to endure, knowing that it's probably coming out more as a grimace. I see his eyes scan my body and I mentally cringe at his obviousness. A smirk makes its way to his face and I find my self battling between finally giving him what he deserves and blowing my whole cover or trying to put up with him for a little while. I choose the latter.

"hey babe" he says, voice coming out in what I think was supposed to be sexy? Is he actually trying to fucking flirt with me when he's dating that guy from school? Piece of shit.

An idea pops in my head when I see what he had been failing at and I already can't wait for what I'm about to do. "mind putting the weight on the bar?"

"oh yeah, sure" I reply. I lift the weight with out struggle and I see his eyebrows raise in surprise. "wow your so strong" his hand runs along my biceps that are still holding the weight and now he's stood right in front of me. Perfect.

Drop. It lands right on his foot and I highly doubt that that shoe did much help to protect it.

"I'm so sorry!" I force myself to say, but I don't think the smile on my face really helped the situation. Eh, what can I say, guess I'm a bit clumsy.

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