Taken

Chapter 35

Louis POV:

It's shit really. I get paid to help get a girl and deliver them to their destination. If they're being a bit ratty, and they're annoying the piss out of me, I can show them the proper way to shut the fuck up. I don't get paid to babysit and watch over them like a damn father. That's not my job, and I sure as hell don't get paid enough for it. Either of them really.

Now, I'm sitting back watching the tellie, unable to talk to my best mate Harry, because he's fucking arse over tit for Jennifer.
I can't even talk to Zayn, which is always my second choice, because he's too busy with his own girl problems. Bastard should just tell his girlfriend what he does for a living. If she doesn't like it, to hell with her! Who gives a fuck. If she doesn't like it she can piss off.
I can't talk to Liam, because well I've just never been able to talk to him. We don't connect. I don't give a shit, and he gives too many shits, and people like that just don't work right together. Every time we talk we're left with awkward silences and talking about football.
Don't even get me started on Niall.

This all is bullshit. The "Jennifer's mine" and "I love Jennifer" shit has to fucking stop. It was okay in the beginning, because Niall needed a good shag, but I didn't know how much he would develop feelings for her. That dumbass always gets so hooked on a girl, and he always goes for the bait. Lucky me, I'm not a fish, and I hate swimming.

A loud knocking from my door interrupts my thoughts.

"Who is it?" I shout from the comfy seat of my couch. I hope they don't plan on me getting off my arse to open the damn door, because they're shit out of luck.

"Harry." My door creaks open, and he pads his way towards me.

"Oh, hey mate. Getting worried about you." I smile and move the bottle of vodka from my right hand to my left, so I can shake Harry's enormous fucking hand.

He eyes my bottle, that may be over half empty, and looks back up at me,

"Doubt it." He laughs and sits next to me on the couch.

The couch dips, and I have to put my arms up in front of me to make sure I don't fall down. You think I'd be better at being a drunk by now, but I'm really not. I don't think anyone gets good at being a drunk, they just get used to the feeling.

"What brings you down here, anyways?" It's not everyday Harry walks into my room without yelling at me to hurry up or comes to brag about what girl he got the day before.

"Didn't know where else to go." He laughs and grabs my bottle. He takes a quick swig of it and frowns as it stings down his throat.

"Where's the lovely Jennifer?" I laugh and snatch the bottle back from his hands. I'm the one who deserves to be drunk for dealing with everyone's shit. I should've never helped Niall get to sleep with Jennifer.

"Who knows." He smiles, but I know him, and I can see all the hurt behind his facade. He always sucked at pretending and acting like everything was okay. Mostly, because he never had to. He was strong and girls were never of this type of situation. He never loved a girl, and I can tell by the pout of his lips, he did.

"I woke up, and she wasn't there. Either was Niall." He shrugs and slugs down more in the couch.

"Why the fuck would Niall be there?" Niall just can't stay away, can he? This is all going to be just like that other girl, and who's going to have to fix everything? Me.

"Long story, mate." He laughs and grabs my damn bottle again.

"Good, because we got nothing but time." I smile and quickly knock him on his head before retreating my possession.