Uptown Boy (Narry Storan)

44. Don't give up

HS

The last conversation we had haunted me, taunted me, constantly replaying in my head like an echo. And it absolutely pains my heart. It is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two. Forget two. More like a million pieces. It's like having broken ribs. On the outside it looks like nothing's wrong. But every breath hurts. My insides feel raw, my heartache had already rung me out until I was dry inside, no more tears would come.

Every drink offered to me, one after the other, all seems like a better and better idea. My hands grip the bottle, my eyes swivelling towards the back of my head in a distressed sense of a headache. I tilt my head towards the edge of the booth as I take a long swig of my drink, just wishing to wash away the thoughts and events of last night.

But no matter how much I drink, I can't seem to erase the image of how he looked at me. It was a stare that communicated his pain, and his wish for me to just let go and to move on. But I could not move on, just as I could not simply forget and bury these feelings he gives me and these feelings I feel towards him.

I raise my hand with less coordination than a concussed troll, slurring more than speaking, "One more bottle of whiiskeyyyy!!"

A blurred figure walks over, snatching the bottle off of my hands.

"Heyyy!!" I shout, desperately trying to reach back for my drink.

"I think you've had enough, bud." A familiar voice speaks, but with how hazy my mind is at the moment, I can't place a finger on who it is exactly.

I squint my eyes, hoping to clear up my smoky vision.

"Give i-it back, evil sir." I slur, lazily reaching for the bottle, but eventually give up when I start to get lazy to raise my hand. Instead, I'm pushing myself out of the booth, and weaving my way through and out of the bar.

I topple down the step onto the street and the buildings around me start swaying like they were part of a fun house mirror illusion.

My mind is in a frenzy, the world spinning fast, my legs feeling like jelly and my stomach begins to heave in a sickly way.

After only six staggering paces, I double over, placing a hand on the brick wall as I hurl everything out from my gut, vomit splattering on the stones and spraying over my jeans.

I cringe in disgust, wiping the puke off the corner of my lips once my insides were cleared. I stand back up straight. As best as I could at least. My vision starts to clear up slightly, but my legs are still swaying, back and forth and left and right, coordination completely off.

Then I feel a hand on my upper bicep.

"You alright?" The familiar voice asks again.

I turn to my side, trying to figure out who's helping me. I squint my eyes slightly, noticing the familiar sleeked back brunette hair and hazel eyes.

"Liam?" I ask, trying to tilt my head slightly to the side to see him better.

"Yeah. It's me." He answers. I furrow my brows at him.

"What are you doing here?" I ask coldly.

"Taking you back, what else?"

"I don't-" a hiccup escapes my throat. "I don't need your help." I insist in a strong slur. "Traitor." I mutter under my breath, trying to snatch my arm back from his hold. Which only resulted in my body toppling backwards. He sighs heavily, but tightens his grip on me to prevent me from falling.

"Listen, you can take the piss at me all you want, but you're in absolutely no shape to be left alone." He tells me.

"Where's Niall?" I find myself asking, completely ignoring whatever he just said. "Liam! Just get Niall! He can help me. I want him! Where's he?!" I now start to shout, startling him as he jumps back in shock slightly, before confusion overtakes his features instead. Thick tears start to gather at the corner of my tear ducts, and I'm crying silently.