The X-Factor Experience | L.S

Twenty: January

The angelic sound of Louis' laughter coming out from the speaker of the hot laptop filled his unventilated bedroom.

Another Friday, another episode. He was watching it from his bed with an impassive expression plastered on his face.

Harry paused the screen at the abrupt sound of his phone ringing from under the pile of clothes. An awful sound, really. It was disturbing his X Factor episode.

Harry grunted and placed the humming laptop on the blanket next to him as he went in search for his phone, throwing abundances of clothes over his shoulder in the process.

When he finally did dig up his phone, it had like 2% and it was nearly smoking from being so overheated. It was still ringing. Harry brought the phone up to his ear, picking up on one of the last rings.

"Yes?" He said, voice all gruff. He cleared his throat.

"Wow, you actually picked up," Niall sounded surprised on the other line.

"Well. What do you want."

"Don't hang up Harry! Ugh, okay, I never thought you'd actually pick up the phone so now I haven't prepared what to say," Niall said panicked.

Harry's mouth was a thin line, remaining silent as he impatiently waited for Niall to pull himself together and tell him what the fuck he wanted so that Harry could go back to watching Louis Tomlinson being sexy on TV as soon as possible.

"Harry," Niall said firmly, "we haven't hung out in like, a month. I get that you're sad because of what happened, but ignoring your best friend isn't going to make you feel any better, I promise."

"I'm not trying to feel better. I'm trying to watch my stupid asshole celebrity crush on TV, Niall. And if the reason you called me was to chide me about that then I'm just gonna hang up. I'm sorry."

He hung up before Niall could utter another word. Or even a thought, frankly. Harry pushed his phone aside and got comfortable under the sheets again, continuing with his weekly dose of serotonin that was a stupid music contest.

God, when did he get to this point?

After the episode ended (Rachel got eliminated), Harry went back on his phone, plugging it into a charger. He opened Twitter and went through all the recent posts and comments and reactions to Louis on the episode. And Mark. And how cute they were together. Harry rolled his eyes. They were not together. They couldn't be. He wouldn't accept it.

He tapped on a collage of pictures some fan account had posted, zooming in. He squinted, ignored the nauseous feeling washing over him like a tsunami when his eyes danced over the pictures. He hadn't seen them before, but they were from bootcamp on the night Harry almost got sent home. Mark's arms were hanging loosely around a grinning Louis' waist on one of the pictures.

Of course that didn't mean anything.

And if it did, so what? Harry didn't care. It wasn't like Louis was his boyfriend or anything. He wasn't his to get jealous over.

If only he was, though. The world would be a better place.

He tried to push away that unrealistic thought. Louis might have taken a liking to him before, but that certainly changed when Harry went all ballistic on him and Louis chose to eliminate him from the program.

The bastard.

He placed two fingers on the screen and enlarged another picture where Mark was smiling passionately up at Louis who was in the middle of being interviewed about his unexpected decision to give Harry another chance in the contest.

A tiny smile appeared on Harry's face. Being given chances. Those were the days. He missed bootcamp. It felt like so long ago, even if it had only been a couple months. And now he had been sitting in his queen size bed for the last boundless weeks, sulking to himself.

The worst part about it was that he was content. He was content being a sad loser who turned down his friends every time they tried to contact him.

Harry read over some Twitter rants about Mark and Louis. He was on the edge of breaking down when he skimmed through one of them, noticing his own name coming up in a paragraph.

'Now that Harry is out of the way, Lark can finally be free and happy!!!'

Harry almost wanted to laugh despite his sadness. It was so ridiculous. In their little scenario he was just seen as a bump in the road for their cute little ship. Maybe wording it like an iceberg in the ocean would fit better in this case.

He allowed himself to silently cry. Then he allowed himself to cry with sound. Then with gut wrenching sobs escaping through his bitten lips. 

And then he let himself drift off to sleep. He'd lost so much.

When he woke up, his mum's big head was hovering right over his own.

"Can I help you..."

His mum let out a huff of frustration, hands flying up to pull at her hair. She visibly tried to calm herself. "Harry. I love you, honey. That's why I can't watch you ruin yourself like this. This is like, what, your fifth nap today? Don't you see what this is turning into? You haven't left your bed for days."

Harry gazed down at his lap. He hated how he let his own misery affect others. Especially his mum whom he loved more than anyone. He remained silent, not really knowing what to say.

"For god's sake, it's been months Harry. Forgive me if I'm a little concerned," she brushed his hair out of his face in that soothing manner she'd done since he was little. He leaned into her touch.

"I'm sorry, mum. I'll try to be better," he said. Even if it was an empty promise, the way her entire face lit up was worth it. He even considered actually trying to fulfil it.

"Really? Oh, honey that makes me so happy," she pulled him into a tight hug and he buried his nose in her neck, taking in her comforting scent.

He detached himself from her and smiled small. "I'll go take a walk then," he said and got out of bed for the first time in days, walking downstairs to get his fleece jacket and gloves. "Bye," he said before walking out into the fresh air that embraced him.

He walked in the park that used to be his happy place. The field was layered with thick, powdery snow as more snowflakes came dancing down to meet it. Children were holding a snowman contest. From where Harry was standing, it looked like the one who could decorate their snowman in the prettiest way won.

He couldn't help it. It brought a smile to his face. Even if it was a small one. 

He felt his cheeks redden in the crisp January air and remembered why winter was his favourite season. It was a shame how he'd ruined it for himself, spending all his time in his room reading poorly written Louis Tomlinson fanfictions on AO3 and Wattpad by twelve year olds until late night.

Cut him some slack, okay, this wasn't one of his proudest moments to confess to you guys.

Harry sauntered aimlessly around the large park, observing people. Families, couples, friends. His eyes landed on the frozen lake where a boy and another boy were skating on their feet, tiny laughter traveling through the air towards Harry. They seemed happy. There were even two girls who were holding a damn picnic in the snow. Harry shivered at how cold they must've been.

When his ears were starting to wear off from the low temperature he decided to turn around and aim towards home, happy to admit that he felt more fresh after that walk.

He went up and gave his mum a hug, nuzzling his face in her shoulder.