The Starbucks Message

Chapter Three

Louis

 

“Whether we’re together or apart we’ll both remove the masks and admit, we regret it from the start.” The words slipped through my lips easily during practice, my voice echoed throughout the empty stadium and I didn’t even take the time to feel proud of my sound. All I could think of were the words I just sang, they bit into me more than they used to, I used to think of this as a hopeful song. But whenever I sang anything anymore I felt the memories come crashing in. Her eyes looking at me pleadingly would return and I would have to bury my heartbreak all over again. Instead I replaced it with bitterness, it was an easy fix. I found myself mad at anything and everything, but it was better than moping around with my heartbreak obvious to all. The only people who saw through my ruse were my family and the boys, constantly asking me if I was okay and if there was anything they could do. I hated it, I already felt bad enough without seeing everyone pity me.

The paps are the worst, the day after our breakup they were immediately on my like a pack of hungry dogs. Asking all sorts of bloody stupid questions like “How do you feel about how she cheated on you?” and “Your thoughts on how she’s engaged to the same guy now?” and “Are you going to be dating again soon?” Of course I was upset! Of course I was heartbroken! And no way was I going to be anywhere near any girls any time soon!

I took the microphone away from my mouth and sighed, weariness came over my being. It wasn’t a good weariness after a long day’s work; it was the fatigue that came from a broken spirit. I sat on the nearby stairs and watched as Niall messed around with some extra-large glasses that Paul bought to keep him occupied, Harry was telling Zayn some knock-knock jokes, Zayn looked like he was going to shoot himself, and Liam was on his phone most likely tweeting song lyrics to the fans. I reveled in the moment of peace where the boys weren’t constantly trying to cheer me up, when they just let me mope and let myself slip into oblivion. It was nice to just sit and have my own private pity party instead of hiding it from everyone.

My phone beeped loudly, I looked at it to see that the fans were blowing up my Twitter. All I saw were the fans spamming me on if I was okay, saying that I didn’t deserve it, and that some girl would walk into my life and heal the wrong that Eleanor did. Of course there were plenty of volunteers. I smiled at their genuine concern, but they only knew what the magazines told them… they didn’t know how utterly destroyed I was by her.

A booming beep echoed from my phone once again, this time it was a text from Harry. Will you ever stop sulking? It’s seriously starting to worry us. :(

I glanced at him from across the stage; he gave me one of his signature cheeky smiles and a thumbs up. I chuckled and shook my head; he was the only one I knew that would text me when I was in the same room bloody room as him.

I’m not sulking. It’s just my face! So don’t worry about it. :) I sent the text thinking it would get Harry off my back but he replied in the next second.

That’s the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

It’s a text smile! They all look the same!

No they don’t.

Yes they do.

Nuh uh

Ya huh

Nuh uh

Ya huh

FORGET IT! YOU’RE JUST AN IDIOT! With that I shoved my phone into my pocket, knowing from experience that Harry would just keep replying the same thing for however long it took to for me to blow up or just say that he was right. I ignored the insistent buzzing that persisted as we continued with rehearsals. I kept glaring at Harry but he would just smirk at me as he sent me another text, I rolled my eyes at his pathetic attempt at trying to cheer me up. It would take more than him being an idiot to do that.