Broken {Zarry Stylik}

Chapter 51

Louis' POV
Right as Emma came through the door, I took it as an opportunity to leave. Although maybe I don't hate her as much anymore, I need to clear my head and think. There's no way to go about this without seeming like a total asshole. Especially after what I've done to her with all the little remarks and rude comments.

"I'll meet you lads tonight," I pause, looking up and seeing Emma look uncomfortable. Deciding whether or not to say anything to her, I simply just shake my head and let myself out, but not before saying goodbye to Bailey as well, patting her head.

I turned up the volume and let the music of the radio fill the empty spaces in the car. Not even aware of where I was, I parked in front of a very familiar building to me, the place where I always turn to.

Sighing, I get out of the car and head for the door. I know I'm going to regret turning to alcohol but I just need to get my thoughts straight, then I won't do it again.

The light chatter of the pub is surprisingly comforting, rather than the usual booming voices pounding into my ears. Considering that it's not too late, there aren't many people here. Give it another few hours and people will come pouring in.

I order a pint and sit at the bar, rubbing my face in my hands. Sipping at the vinegary drink, I feel a touch of relief wash over me. Beginning to think, I find that my mind is completely blank. Do I apologise to Emma? Was it her fault? Should I even be looking this far into it?

"Hey, are you alright?" A girl behind the counter asks as she wipes down the table. Slight concern is laced through her face.

"Yeah, don't mind me," I sigh. She stays quiet as she cleans the table and makes other people's drinks, not moving too far from where I'm sitting though.

"Do you usually day drink?" She asks with a smirk on her face, obviously amused by my annoyance.

"Do you usually put your nose into other people's business?" I snap back, putting the cup up to my lips once again.

"No, not usually." Pushing the wisps of dark hair from her face, she disappears to the back room for a moment, returning with a mug in her hand.

"You don't have to tell me anything y'know," she chuckles, "But this should help you much more than that," she motions to the beer as she pulls it towards her and pushes a cuppa towards me.

I look up intrigued. Either she doesn't take her job seriously, or she actually cares about me. Suddenly, a question runs through my mind and makes me even more curious about her.

"Do you know who I am?"

She looks up and smiles before nodding. "Yeah, it's kinda hard to not know who you are."

"Let me guess," I begin, tilting my face, "You want a signature and you want me to write a song about you. If that's what you want, then you're not getting it her-"

"Meh, I've never been a fan," she cuts me off, shrugging and looking fairly bored. After a moment of pretending to be uninterested in the conversation, she peeks up and smirks at me. I try to keep a smile in but end up doing a terrible job of it.

"So, what are you doing here?" She asks, putting her elbows on the table.

"I'm sure you have better things to do then listen to me babble on about it," I shrug, sipping at the warm tea.

"I promise you I have nothing better to do." Looking around, I notice that it's still too early for her to be busy.

Messing with my fingers, I take a deep breath and try to make sense of everything in my head before attempting to say it out loud.

"I have a friend who I really love, he's like a little brother to me and I've always had a really strong urge to protect him. Erm, he has a boyfriend I guess, and before they really started getting close, he shot my friend." Looking up, I notice that her eyes widened a bit, but no emotion or judgement was shown in them. "It was an accident and we've all forgiven him, it's just that he has this one friend. She's the one who gave him the gun in the first place. I kind of snapped at her, erm multiple times actually and I'm pretty sure she's terrified of me now-or she at least hates me. Even though my friend is completely healed now, I still can't help but blame her, although I feel a bit bad for being so awful to her." I bite my lip, trying to think of something else to say when I realize I've said everything I needed to say.

"No offense but it sounds like you're being a bit of a dick." She stands up from her original position where she was leaning on the counter.

"None taken. I just don't know what to do, I mean I was a right twat to her, there's no coming back from that." Running my fingers through my hair, I let out an exasperated breath.

"It sounds quite simple actually," she mixes another person's drink as she talks, "I think you should just apologize to her and explain your misunderstanding."

"I think my ego is a bit big for that," I chuckle, not exactly joking though.

Before she could say anything else, my phone rang quite loudly. Putting the tea down from my lips after taking a swig, I answer it, noticing that it's Harry.

"Sorry, I just have to take this."

"Louis, where are you?" His voice was urgent through the phone.

"Erm, I just went for a drive, why?"

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago to record, we've been waiting for you."

"Oh shit, I lost track of time. Ok I'll be there soon."

Quickly, I hang up and stand up, trying to pull out my wallet. Before I could fish it out, she stopped me.

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"No, I'll pay it's fine."

"It's ok, I promise. You're in a rush, just go," she said, pulling back the mug.

I pause, taking in her kind face and then put my coat back on.

"Thank you so much."

"No problem."

Probably breaking multiple traffic rules, I finally reach the recording building and bolt for the booth, trying not to be anymore late.

As I burst through the door, I notice Harry kneeling on the floor in front of Zayn, holding his hands and mumbling a tornado of words that I couldn't quite catch.

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-Michelle