Fooled (Larry Stylinson) ✅

16. Chaos

Harry's Point of View  

"Hey," I said, awkwardly to Sharon, trying my best to force a smile. It had been six days since I last moved out of my and Liam's flat. Six days since I last spoke to Louis. And two days since Sharon and I had been on a date. 

All of it was killing me inside. 

"Hey, love bug," Sharon said, kissing me on the mouth. I felt nauseous as our lips connected, her overdone red lipstick smearing my skin. 

"You look nice, I like your dress," I said as we walked to the train. I was holding her hand -- she always wanted me to hold her hand -- and it just made me think more about Louis and how it would feel like to hold his hand. How it would feel to be myself again. 

"So you're gonna like this place," she said excitedly, tapping her long, acrylic nails against her phone screen. "It's soooo good. American barbecue." 

My stomach lurched as I thought of eating a massive portion of meat. Barbecue was probably my list favorite food -  I really preferred a curry or a nice Italian dinner. And Sharon actually knew that, but she didn't give a shit. 

Suddenly, I remembered something. American barbecue? Didn't someone work there. Louis! Louis worked at an American barbecue place. Fuck. 

Okay, calm down, Harold, I told myself, my head spinning as we walked down the subway steps. It's New York. There ought to be a million places that serve this type of food. 

But something inside me didn't feel right. Maybe it was just the guilt of manipulating two different people in two separate relationships or maybe it was just my gut instinct, but I had a feeling this was going to end badly. I just didn't know how. 

When we got of the train stop twenty minutes later, Sharon led me a few blocks down, poking into my arm with her long nails as he held onto me. She was babbling something about meeting Rihanna the other day, which would have interested me if literally anyone else in the world had said it. But Sharon met celebrities everyday, and she often had nasty things to say about them. 

"And can you believe she didn't say hello? She just said 'hi,'" Sharon droned in her valley girl accent. "It's just so rude. Some people..."

I nodded, trying to feign interest as she continued. The good thing about Sharon was that she didn't need a verbal cue to keep talking -- she could go on for hours without ever hearing someone respond. It made things easy for me.

"Okay, Harry! We're here," she said excitedly as we reached a red brick building with a giant pig on the front door. I tried to not laugh at how tacky this place was. It fit Sharon's personality perfectly. 

When we got inside, I was instantly relieved to find that Louis wasn't there. In fact, it was all females working there today. Our waitress was a blonde woman named Tiffany, who Sharon instantly created issues with as soon as we sat down. 

"This is a bit drafty," Sharon whined, running her hands through her awfully dyed bleach blonde hair with black roots. "Can we move tables?"

After not one, but two table changes, we sat and began to read the menus, Sharon stroking my hand all the while. "You look so handsome, H," she giggled, looking up at me. Her face wasn't ugly -- it was her attitude that I disliked the most -- but I didn't find her particularly appealing, just simple. Plain. 

Nothing compared  to Lou. 

"Thanks, babe," I said, internally deciding I would get chicken and cornbread. She nodded, and then showered with nonstop questions about the nutritional value, taste and quality of the food -- all of which I pretended to answer thoughtfully, but really just bullshitted. Oh yes, baby back ribs do have less calories than the prime rib, I assure you. Whatever bullshit she needed to hear.

 After we placed our order, I sensed a lull as Sharon scrolled through her phone. Depending on the circumstance, she might be on there for anywhere between 5 and 15 minutes, and now was my chance to have some down time. 

Luckily, after the milk incident with Liam, a bowl of rice had done just the trick to get my phone up and running again. It still worked just fine and I began to scroll to my last text conversation with Louis, re-reading the plans we had made a week prior before everything fell to pieces.

Then, suddenly, out of my peripheral vision I saw something I could have only imagined in my worst nightmares. It was a silhouette, a male with toussled brown hair and a small build, coming through the entrance of a restaurant in an all black waiter's uniform. I looked at my phone. It was 6:30pm. 

The start of his shift. 

Sharon was preoccupied in her phone, so I quickly told her I was off to use the bathroom and sprinted to the men's room as fast as I could. 

You know how in the movies people leave bad dates by jumping out of the window? Well I always thought that was utter bullshit. It was so dramatic. Why not just use the front door like a normal person? 

But now I finally understood the sheer desperation. 

My arms flailing, I pulled at the window, desperately trying to open it. It was jammed, and I tugged at it -- continuously looking over my shoulder to make sure Louis wasn't entering the restroom. 

Then I got it open and punched through the screen with my fist (it was too high up to kick), bloodying my knuckles in a single blow. I peeled back the ripped fringes of the screen and jumped onto the windowsill, trying to slide my long legs through the opening. 

I barely fit -- the window only opened about half way -- but I was thin, so I was able to slid through without scratching myself. 

I hit the pavement hard with my feet, stumbling forward as I was a bit unprepared for the landing. Then I started to run as fast as I could. I needed to be anywhere but here. 

"Harry?" 

I heard a voice behind me, in the distance. It was a man's voice. I turned around to face him, bewildered by who might be calling my name. 

It was Louis, standing by the back entrance of the restaurant, smoking a cigarette.