One Directon Preferences

He Wants To Quit The Band But The Boys Make Him Stop

Harry: His eyes scan the screen as each harsh word burns into his mind. Slut. Ass hole. Liar. Cheater. Talentless. With a final scroll he tosses his phone to the ground, cracking the screen but not giving it a second glance. "I'm done," he mumbles to himself softly, the other four boys in various spots around the tour bus turn to look at him with confusion. "I'm done," he repeats again louder, his voice more firm. His words more final. "Done with what?" Niall questions, shutting his laptop with a frown. "I'm done with fame, I'm done with being followed by paparazzi, I'm done with this. I'm leaving the band, I'm done," he says softly, crossing his arms and leaning back into his bunk. "Mate, don't say that. You're just in a shit mood, you'll be fine after a cuppa tea," Louis consoles. "No, I'm really done this time, I mean it. I'm done with all of this I can't take it, I'm not strong enough," Harry replies softly, fighting the tears threatening to spill. "Here," Zayn says after a few moments of heavy silence, tossing his iPad onto Harry's bunk with the One Direction video diaries from X Factor on the screen. Harry presses play with reluctancy but after three videos teardrops stain his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he says softly as he picks up his now-cracked phone from the floor. "Don't be, we all have moments," Liam assures, wrapping him in a much-needed hug. 

Louis: "When will Louis Tomlinson come out of the closet?" "Weakest voice in 1D: Louis!" "When will Louis break up with his beard?" His eyes scan the headlines of the tabloids and teen magazines, something he knew he shouldn't do. He does it, though, he meant to come into the store just to pick up some candy for the road but the magazines were calling out to him, "Read me, Louis. See what terrible things people have to say. See what they really think of you." He's always cared too much about what people think and being in the spotlight made it harder. "Fuck this," he says finally, pushing over the magazine rack and walking out of the store, not bothering turning back (or paying for the candy bar in his palm, oh well). "What the hell, mate?" Liam calls out, trailing Louis out of the store and jogging to catch up. "I'm done. I'm done. I'm quitting the spotlight. Quitting the band, you don't need me anyway. I'm the uglies and the least talented, you won't be missing anything," he says firmly, climbing onto the tour bus as the other boys peer over their bunks to see the commotion. "That isn't true, you're amazing," Harry frowns, sending a concerned look his way. "Your voice is so unique and pretty we would never be able to replace it and you've got biceps like the hulk," Zayn adds on, walking over and resting his head on Louis' shoulder. Louis can't help but smile as he takes a deep breath. "Sorry, I was just a bit worked up...you know what those magazines do to me," he says softly, patting Zayn's shoulder. 

Liam: "I can't do this anymore," Liam growls, storming into the tour bus away from the paparazzi and screaming fans. He pulls his torn shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor as he turns to examine the scratches on his arm and back. "I'm so tired of being hunted like a deer and being attacked," he continues, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them to the scratch on his shoulder. "It's tough, I know," Harry agrees, shuffling through his bag for a bandage. "No, it feels like I'm being bullied again...just like back in high school," Liam continues softly as Zayn examines the torn fabric of his tee. "I can't do this. I don't want to be in the biggest boyband in the world anymore. I want to be a nobody again." Louis frowns and perches on the edge of the sofa, watching as Harry places a bandage on Liam's arm. "You don't mean that," Niall says, furrowing his brow. Just as Liam opens his mouth to speak, Louis cuts him off. "Liam, we have performed at the Olympics, won BRIT awards, performed at the VMAs, travelled the world...you couldn't possibly want to go back to sitting in Wolverhampton doing nothing. It's hard but it's worth it, isn't it?" he says thoughtfully, his normally comical tone taking a serious sense. "I suppose," Liam says after a few moments of silence, sliding an un-ripped shirt over his head. "Zayn, teach me how you go un-noticed by paps and fans all the time, mate," he says finally with a serious yet joking smile. 

Zayn: He bites his lip as he scrolls through his mentions. Terrorist. Anorexic. Cheater. He nervously lights a cigarette but doesn't smoke it, he simply holds it between his fingers until it burns his palm. "What the hell are you doing?" Niall asks, swatting the cigarette from his hand. "You're gonna burn yourself," Louis points out, peering out of his bunk to see the commotion. "Already did," Zayn replies gruffly, ignoring them all as Harry leans on his shoulder. "I'm so tired of everything," he says after a few moments, running his fingers through his hair. "This band...the spotlight. I'm done. I'm so done." Liam frowns and scrolls through his phone. "Stop," Niall argues, wrapping Zayn in a hug. "Zayn you saved my life. Zayn you're the most beautiful person. Zayn you inspire me to sing," Liam begins reading tweets from his phone, watching as Zayn fights a smile. "That's why you're doing this. For every bad thing there's thousands of good ones, mate. We're here for you, all right?" Harry says quietly, joining the Ziall hug. 

[I omitted Niall's for this one because I honestly couldn't think of much and I have to do my homework...sorry!]