Pretty Hurts- Beyoncé
(Prompt - “you’re overweight and a fan calls you fat and he doesn’t defend you’ll you take diet pills and get sick”)
Louis: You were backstage during a meet and greet, just trying to stay out of the way in your designated area when a couple of fans went up to the bodyguard blocking off your area. “I’m sorry, but we’re big fans of y/n,” one of them said. “Do you think we could just give her a gift,” the other begged with a smile. He checked the bag then looked back to you, “It’s safe if it’s okay with you.” You nodded, “Yeah, of course,” you agreed moving closer. “I didn’t know I had any fans. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t really know what I did that’s fan worthy.” “You’re an inspiration to all of us,” one of them explained, “Here,” she handed you the gift bag and you took it. “Go ahead, open it,” the other added. You took out a card that you assumed was a gift card, but there was a name of a fitness center on it. You looked at it confused trying to figure it out. “We thought you could use it,” one of them laughed. You felt blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Yeah, we could tell you don’t own one, but there’s a first time for everyone,” the other backed her up. “Ladies you need to leave,” your bodyguard stepped in to lead them away from your area then came back to you. “I’m sorry, I should have looked closer. Are you okay” You shook your head, “No don’t feel bad, you couldn’t have know. I’m fine, just a little shocked. Is there anyway I could talk to Louis, for a second,” you asked wanting to warn him about them. “I’ll ask,” he responded before picking up his radio. It didn’t take long for him to get an answer, “He’ll be over soon.” “Thank you,” you said gratefully before going back to your seat. After a few minutes he was there. “What is it,” he asked. Those girls gave me this,” you handed him the membership card. “That’s nice,” he didn’t look at it closely. “They’re making fun of me. I just wanted to warn that they have bad intentions.” He rolled his eyes, “Why does that matter? No matter what kind of people they are, they still get the same treatment as everyone else. I don’t want to know this stuff.” He got up angrily, ready to go back. You followed, “So you’re just going to ignore it?” “Yes, and I suggest you do the same. Take the high road, and it won’t be a problem,” he advised you before walking away. You thought about the diet pill advertisement you saw that morning. “Oh, it won’t be a problem,” you whispered before placing the order on your phone…One month later…You were losing a lot of weight quickly, and you were happy with the progress you made. Your clothing was fitting loosely for the first time, and you felt like you could finally start taking pride in your body. However, you did deal with a constant headache. Louis was in the kitchen, making as much noise as possible, and it was really starting to frustrate you. “Can you please be quiet,” you stormed in, annoyed. “What the heck do you want me to do? I need to make noise to finish this meal.” You put your hands on the side of your head, “Just slow down. I have a headache, and you’re amplifying it with ever crunch, and clang.” He set down the mixer. “You’ve been in a pissy mood this whole week. When did you get so sensitive to everything.” “Sensitive,” you questioned surprised, “No I take the high road. I don’t let anything bother me. Not even the diet pills that are fixing everything, but my stupid ability to think clearly without pain,” you started smacking your hands against your head as you spoke, starting to have a meltdown. “Please, I just want it to stop hurting,” you looked down, hiding the tears that were beginning to fall. He walked over to put his hands over yours, so he could lift your head up. “You’re taking diet pills,” he asked looking into your eyes. You sighed and nodded. “Why,“ he asked concerned. “I can’t take the high road like you. I know what everyone thinks of me, and I want to change that. I want to be better.” He shook his head, “This is not better. Being in pain, being unhappy is not better. It’s no way to live.” “But I just need them until I’m pretty, then I’ll stop,” you explained you plan. “You’re already pretty, do you know how many of my fans send compliments about you everyday? You can’t base people’s opinions off of what two awful girls said.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re lying.” “Nope, I looked it up today just to prove it to you,” he said reaching in his back pocket for his phone, “Five comments down here’s one already.” He held it in front of your face for you to see, then read it out loud, “Y/N has given me the confidence to feel comfortable with my clothing size. I was always afraid people would find out, but now I figure let them look. Please thank her for me.” He took his phone out and kept scrolling and telling the comments to you like it was an argument. Even so each complement warmed you inside, and you could feel you heart softening. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this,” you interrupted him. “ I didn’t think you needed it. I thought my opinion trumped all, but apparently not,” he half joked, sensing you were calming down. “It does, but sometimes I just need reassurance from people who are not obligated to say nice things to me,” you poked his chest softly. “I guess I can understand that, but you have to stop with the diet pills, okay? They’re not healthy.” You nodded, a little ashamed, “No arguments there,” you surrendered putting your hands up then quickly grabbed your head because of the pain. “Let’s take care of that,” he squinted empathizing with your pain.
