The Boy Who Stayed (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 2: Back

Patricia Hollister

“Miss Hollister, your chemotherapy session will start in an hour.” The same nurse with the floppy white hat from last night poked her head inside the room.

I sat up and nodded. “Okay.”

The nurse looked at me strangely, because I probably looked like a monster. I clutched the pillow that I used last night, and it was still wet. Tears were spilling infinitely last night, and childhood memories with Louis kept flashing before my eyes.

“Are you feeling well, Patricia?” The nurse, Maxandrea - according to her nametag, asked in a concerned tone.

“I–I’m fine, I guess," I stuttered. "Just a little shocked, that’s all.” I brushed her off, trying to avoid the looks she was giving me. I really hate pity.

She nodded, and closed the door.

I tucked the loose hair strands of my hair behind my ear. In an hour, I might lose these precious little pieces. I might become uglier than I ever was before. The dark brown silk is going to be extinct soon enough. And the worst part is that there’s no more shoulder left to cry on.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told Louis. I should have just lied through my teeth and shut up, pretended there was nothing wrong, and just told him that I just wanted to say 'hi'. Why didn’t I think of that before?

I laid my head on the pillow and tried to stifle the screams that were stuck in my throat.

Strange, actually, how so heartbroken I felt when Louis decided to leave me. But when Jake did, I felt nothing at all. It seemed like I cared for my best friend more than my boyfriend. Wait, scratch that. Ex-boyfriend. Well, it doesn’t even matter now, since the both of them are gone and left me to face this stupid illness alone. It’s clear. Louis has changed.

The Louis Tomlinson that shut me out last night was never like the Louis Tomlinson that I’ve known since forever. Louis was always the caring and kind one, and we’ve made silly promises when we were young that we’d never leave each other. But now, the promises, even if they weren’t taken seriously before, are now broken like glass shards. Into pieces. Ruined. Painful.

I tried to blink back the tears, knowing that they’d be torrent-sized and unstoppable once they’ve fallen. What is Louis even thinking about right now? And is he even thinking of me? Is he still dwelling on the fact that I have this illness? Does he even care? Did he tell the boys? Or did he even shut them out so that they wouldn’t think that he left me? The questions were echoing around my head like crazy. How I wish Lottie, Felicite, and the twins were here. They would always listen, no matter how deranged my problems, or how miserable the situations were.

Just like their brother.

Stop punishing yourself, Pat, a voice in my head said. You’re only making it worse by simply thinking of them.

My thoughts were interrupted by muffled voices outside the hospital room. There were a lot of small conversations and murmurs, but I couldn’t make out what the people outside were saying. Soon enough, there was another voice that shushed them, and they turned into yelling whispers.

Who could that be? But it sounded like there were a whole lot of them, so there was possibly more than three people outside.

It then became silent. The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open. Slowly. Almost like they do in horror movies. Then a voice sang, a voice that could be recognized everywhere, since it belonged to a person that was part of a famous boy band.

“It's not me, it's not you, there’s a reason. I’m just tryin’ to read the signals I’m receiving.” Shock, happiness, and confusion spread over me like water. What is Liam doing here? And why in the world is he singing?