One Last Time - I'll Make It Feel Like Home

Chapter 18 - Louis

I shouldn't be doing this.

I really shouldn't be doing this. It's stupid. It's reckless.

After we left Modest yesterday I've been filled with so much rage. Drowning out any possibility to break. Because if I allow myself to really think about what's happened, it would be too much.

So I simply haven't.

The last 24 hours have been filled with a lot of pacing around the house. Making phone calls. Yelling at incompetent fuckers who won't give me the answers I'm looking for.

I've been researching if what they did is actually legal.

Turns out it is. Our labels dropped us. and because of that fucking contract we signed, we're tied to them until it expires. And by then it'll be too late.

They can have us do whatever they please whenever they choose. Or more like whatever Simon and his band of musketeers want when he wants it.

Simon is at the top, followed by a team of three other homophobic, racist fucks. Brenda Parker, Matthew Hold and Otis Forbes.

The three of them do anything and everything to please Simon. Including giving him brilliant ideas and inputs. Or if one of their clients need a little 'pep talk', they'll take care of it for him. That is if he doesn't want to himself.

I'd take the musketeers over Simon any day.

I even reached out to our old managers. They all said that the time had come for us to go out separate ways.

Personally, I think they're pretty dumb.

The entire concept of this all is very stupid if you think about it. The artist can't leave because of a contract, but the label can just drop them.

Which brings me to where I am now.

Nowhere in the contracts I've signed over the years, does it state that I can't make burner accounts and post pictures there. It also doesn't say that I can't send pictures to people.

So that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

The light shining from the laptop stings my tired eyes as I open twitter.

I quickly log off only to point the cursor to 'sign up'. The process of making the new account takes longer than my impatient mind would like.

Once I'm finished, I log into the account I've called 'Larry unseens 28' on my phone. I go to upload a new tweet, looking through all the old pictures of Harry and I saved on my camera roll.

I never had the heart to delete them.

"Perfect.", I mumble after scrolling for a good minute.

The picture I chose, is a selfie Harry took back in 2013 on the tour bus. We were both exhausted from a show, sharing a bunk. I'm already passed out, my head resting on his chest. He's kissing my forehead in the picture.

I take a moment to pull myself together. I can't start crying about this, not now.

I tweet the picture.

I know there's very little chance of my plan actually working from just the burner account, so I have laid out a couple more steps.

If they think I would just follow orders and not fight it hard again, they are horribly mistaken.

After nearly an hour of posting selfies and pictures the boys have taken in a thread, I get another idea.

I know for a fact that if Zayn and Liam ever wanted to get back together, they wouldn't be allowed to.