rescue me / larry

twenty six - lost

Hellooooo, how do I even start this lol it's been more than a decade. I'm still getting messages about this unfinished fanfiction even though I started this book when I was seventeen and haven't updated since I was nineteen (I'm turning 30 this year haha).

I didn't think I'd ever update or write again but I'm feeling super nostalgic lately and found half this chapter on my old laptop and thought – why not?
Although I have to say it was weird to write Liam in this story bc obviously he's still alive here and it's weird to think that the past version of me who wrote this fanfiction would never guess this happening so soon... anways. RIP Liam. :/

Also note I wrote the first half as a nineteen year old (I tried to edit it) and the other half after 11 years of almost no writing and damaging my brain with drugs so bare with me lol

-

Louis had no idea tell how much time had passed by now.

He had no idea how much and honestly, also what he consumed in this time.

And he sure as hell had no idea the police was looking for him and how he had everyone worried sick for him.

In Louis' mind, despite everything that had happened in the past time and how much everyone showed up for him, it was still impossible that anyone really cared for him.

They have to care, I'm part of their job and their paycheck. They have to care because it would look bad on everyone if I crashed out and everyone would eventually see how bad I really am, was what Louis' mind told him instead.

Well, it did.

Perhaps it still would if there was space for a coherent thought. Because right now, all there was was what felt like a cloud of no thoughts and every thought he ever thought and will think at the same time. It felt exhausting.

Every part of Louis' body was telling him to stop, go home and sober up. But at the same time he couldn't move. He didn't even feel like he could walk or find his way home anyways.

Louis let out a sigh and slowly opened his eyes to figure out where he even was right now. As his eyes slowly adjusted, a bit blurry but still there, was the ceiling of his friends bathroom. He felt the carpet that used to be fluffy, but now feels kinda flat and scratchy against his bare back.

By the sounds coming from the next room, the party... well, was it a party? The bender still hadn't stopped. But it sounded quieter, a few people already left or were totally knocked out.

Louis groaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He ran his hand through his hair. He felt his body tremble and gulped.

Suddenly he remembered how he ended up in this bathroom as the feeling of nauseau rose up in his throat again. In what feels like the very last second he leaned over and tried to throw up into the toilet. Nothing came out except for bile, of course, Louis hadn't eaten in long enough to have his stomach completely empty.

Pain shot through Louis' stomach and up his throat. He had to sink back down to lying in almost a fetus position, breathing shallow to not stretch or irrate his body too much.

A sound at the door behind him made Louis shoot around. He forgot to lock the door, not surprisingly, and some dude was standing in the door way. He had long hair, a beer in his hand and was looking down at Louis.

"Are you okay?" he broke the silence.

Louis, who was triggered once again because now people here showed concern for him. He came here to escape. He took a deep breath and stood up. His insides were still on fire but what was another moment of hiding what he feels?