A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

The Rain

Well, thought Harry. Louis had done it again. Shot him down, and leaving him no wiggle room at all. Even so, Harry was not a quitter, and decided to just let things play out and see what developed.

"So . . . you're a loner?" asked Harry, concealing his hurt as best he knew how. He could hardly believe what Louis had said-- was still reeling from the fact that Louis had essentially just rejected him as a friend.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you could say that. Nothing personal against you though, of course, yeah?"

Harry didn't respond because he didn't know how to feel, let alone what to say, and thus it wasn't possible to pull the right reaction from within. It was harder to meet nice people than a person would think. Most people didn't understand him and his passion for music, for singing. They didn't take it, or him, seriously. They thought of it as more of a hobby, and that cut deep, because he was wholeheartedly, completely committed to it.

Louis hadn't seemed the type that would make light of his passion, or make him feel inferior because of it. And so he'd trusted him with the information. Consequently, this slight on Louis' part was especially hurtful. Harry'd hoped there would be a glimmer of hope for a friendship. But Louis could be very contrary; encouraging him one minute, and then keeping him at arm's length the next.

The people Harry knew in music were mostly egotists. A lot of them had a superior attitude, and Harry was pretty much a stark contrast. So he felt misunderstood, although he had thought he had sensed a promise of possible emotional support in Louis. Maybe he'd been wrong. Dead wrong.

Louis had been nice enough to jump his Rover when he'd been in a bind, and so Harry had gotten the idea that, even though he'd gotten cynical vibes from him initially, Louis was essentially a decent person. He still hoped he was, but what did Louis have against having friends?

Harry was shocked to find he was experiencing a dismal emotion that made him feel downtrodden. The emotion was powerful—why was this stranger's possible negative opinion of him so important? Even when Louis was silent, Harry found himself questioning everything, like why was he silent?

This must be Louis' way of telling him he wasn't good enough to be friends with him. Now he felt extra stupid for having worn that blazer to Starbucks. Had he been trying to make a good impression? Make an impact? He supposed so.

Louis had lost his desire for the coffee at Starbucks, and now Harry was losing his appetite for the banana split that had made his mouth water such a short time ago. And it wasn't as if he could wrap it up and take home to eat later, so he forced himself to eat it because he didn't want to waste Louis' money.

"You do understand, don't you?" Louis implored, looking like he'd just taken a kid's lollipop away.

"Um, yeah. Of course. You're just . . . happier with your own company." Harry was trying to cover up the hurt, trying to fill in the silence so Louis wouldn't be suspicious when he took too long to answer.

That was completely, utterly wrong, thought Louis. He wasn't happier with his own company. Not most of the time. But he couldn't admit that to Harry.

"A lone wolf, living a solitary existence." Harry was just babbling now. Rambling on. "A bit of an introvert."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Louis protested, feeling annoyed for some odd reason.

"So, you don't have any friends?" Harry didn't like being nosy, but couldn't seem to help himself.

"It's a long ass story, and I wouldn't want to bother you with it," Louis dismissed it out of hand.

"You wouldn't bother me. But only if you wanna tell me," Harry emphasized.