Parallel Lines » Larry Stylinson

Chapter 1 - Harry

My thumb feels hot against the screen of my phone as I continue to scroll through my mentions. My eyes are on the lines and lines of text, but my mind is elsewhere, pondering about the development of capacitors and its role in the making of touch screen devices. My legs are, as usual, propped up on the coffee table before me, my bum numbed from the hours spent here on this lumpy sofa. Alone. I scroll down some more until my phone notifies me that my battery is running low, and I switch it off, before letting it plop down on the space beside me.

I check the clock. It's exactly three minutes past midnight. I should be sleeping now but I don't feel drowsy at all. Maybe it's the caffeine I had consumed before the gig. Mark had already sent us our agenda via email a week ago and made us memorize it. We will be attending a signing tomorrow morning then fly to Chicago, reaching there just in time for another gig.

I lie down on the couch and stare at the ceiling. The lads must be sleeping now. But I am wrong. Someone knocks on my door and calls my name. I recognize his voice immediately. It's Niall.

"Hey man, it's late," I open the door to find Niall dressed in only his signature black boxers and a grey hoodie. I lean against the door frame with my hands folded to prevent him from entering my room. I don't want him to see the mess I've made with my dirty laundry and spilt room service.

"Yeah I know, dude. Just let me in, I can't sleep," Niall whines and pushes past me into my room.

"Hey man, don't go barging in like that!" I roll my eyes and slam the door shut behind me, following Niall into the living area.

"Nice place you got here," Niall plops on the couch and lets himself sink into the worn, moth-eaten cushion. He flicks half a broken crisp onto the floor and kicks it under the coffee table. "How can you live in this filth?"

"I can manage," I sigh and sit beside him, my legs automatically resting itself on the table again.

"What have you been doing in the past two hours?" Niall asks, putting his legs up too. He wiggles his toes and leans back, letting the baggy cushion swallow him whole.

"Must you honestly know? We spent most of our time together, dude," I complain and stare at the blank television screen.

"You know what?" Niall sits upright, straightening his back. "You need to go out there and live, like, really live."

"Is my heart not beating fast enough? Or my lungs not pumping enough air into my system? Because the last time I checked, I was very well alive and healthy," I say, pretending to press two of my fingers against my wrist to check my pulse.

"No, man. You need to live, like go out there into the world and do stuff. You know, party, get wasted, get some girls," Niall winks. "I would be out there in some random bar I've stumble upon dancing the life out of my veins but Mark told me to slim it. While you, on the other hand, deserve a drink once in a while.

I sigh and shake my head. "I just want to focus on my career right now, mate," a lie forms so easily. Lies flows out of my mouth so fluently these days. If only they knew the truth.

I don't want to go out. I don't want to get girls, or party, or get wasted. I just want to be alone. To think and wonder about stuff that never occurs to any other twenty year old boy before. I just don't feel the excitement when I'm talking to girls, and I don't like the way the press pictures me with them. The reason is plain simple. I'm in love.

Louis William Tomlinson. The boy I had fallen in love with since day one, the moment I laid eyes on his pretty soul. It was like all the strings in me had finally conjoined and the oxygen has finally reached my brains. It was just a tiny crush at first, and I did not expect myself to fall deeper into this well of forbidden love. I just fell, and fell. I couldn't get a firm grip on the sides of this well so I cannot stop myself from falling, let alone pull myself out of it. I am just... stuck now.

Nobody asked me about it. Heck, I don't think anyone noticed it. Not even Louis himself. He just kept doing what he always does and I am still stuck in that goddamn well. I guess that's just the consequences of keeping my mouth sealed.

I wanted to tell him though, so many times. I wanted to go right up to him and just say it in his face, that I love him. But I just couldn't gain the courage to do so. I am a coward, that's what I am. A shit-ass coward who cannot even confess to the boy I love. Other people make it seem so easy, but the words always get stuck in my throat every time I plan to do it. My stomach will churn and I feel lightheaded whenever I try. I'm just speechless whenever I am with him, basically.

"Dude, are you listening to me?" Niall asks, snapping his fingers right in front of my face. I notice an opened beer bottle in his hand. He must have gotten it from the minibar when I was lost in my thoughts a moment ago.

"Yeah, uh, I mean no, not technically," I stutter.

"Boy, you need a drink," Niall states and offers me his bottle but I shake my head.

"C'mon. Just one sip, man. You have to let whatever's in your mind go," Niall says and offers me the bottle once again.

I shake my head, declining like before. "I'm not drinking any of your beer. Besides, I think the reason why you came here was just to drink my beers. I bet you finished your stock."

"There were only two bottles, mate! Of course I finished it," Niall protests and takes a huge chug from the bottle.

"Yeah, whatever," I grumble and flipped over to stare at the ceiling. It is a pearl white colour and has sixteen panels. I've counted it so many times before. "It's because I'm Irish," I say along with Niall in a high pitched tone, mimicking him. He always gives the same excuses whenever we question him about him drinking. At least it's not a problem. Things will be complicated if it is.

"You always do that!" Niall laughs. I'm lucky that he doesn't get mad whenever I do that. "Plus, I don't think I really sound like that."

"You do when you're drunk," I say in reflex.

"Maybe," Niall finishes the rest of the beer and stands up. "Guess I gotta go. Nice chatting with ya."

We didn't even talk much.

I watch him leave the room, letting the door close shut behind him. Even Niall doesn't know. He's my closest mate and I kept it from him. How I wish that there is someone I can pour my feelings into, be honest with. Someone who would understands, someone who would not judge me unless it's totally necessary.

I sigh and look up at the clock again. Twenty minutes past midnight. Time passes so slowly when you're alone. Only seventeen minutes have passed since I last checked, and that was before Niall visited. That feels like such a long time ago. It's funny how Niall can finish a 500ml beer bottle in less than seventeen minutes.

I groan and pull myself onto my feet, making my way to the joined bathroom to brush my teeth. After doing so, I strip down and plug my phone into it's charger. I'll be needing it on the plane tomorrow. Six whole hours of playing stupid games brainlessly appeals to me. Note the pun.

I check the clock again, something I find myself doing a lot whenever nobody's around to keep me company. Finally, I switch off the lights and close my eyes, letting the huge void of darkness I'm floating in guide me to another dream where I actually do have to courage to tell Louis Tomlinson that I love him. After all, I'm just a coward.