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chapter four. the breakfast club.

 the breakfast club

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Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken genuinely reminds me of forgotten friendships, and separation when diverging in life. In mosts experience they've lost a friend, a good friend. A friendship that couldn't have been saved regardless of the two forces fighting so hard from both ends to keep it sane. Then memories become the distant past and the friend that knew you more than you knew yourself doesn't know you at all.

A FEW DAYS LATER mum was off to Australia. It was an abrupt departure but expected with whispered goodbyes and loving hugs before she took off to the nearest international airport right outside of town. Her goal this time's to scout inexperienced people with model-like aspects for the fashion industries. Specifically for her upcoming winter line when fashion week dawns. Apparently her future is in the city of Sydney.

The same week I spent most of my time with Zayn and Louis, third wheeling. I hadn't the many options since Harry's time was more invested in Liam and his job at Starbucks and the many assignments from school that are expected to get done. Which is understandable judging by the fact that I share a similar situation. But from time to time, I find myself missing my best friend.

And his abrupt, unexpected visits and stays like my house is some local motel close to his home, although his company is beyond enjoyable. Our time together is naturally appreciated but there's times like this where I find myself cherishing the past more than the present and keeping inside my head more often than not. Which Louis notes is not so healthy, even if it's an uncontrollable, subconscious action of mine.

But now. This is the now, this is the present. Another Friday night in the company of Louis and Zayn, my compadres, my companions, after Liam and Harry cancelled for a second time in the past two weeks on our usual Friday night movie night. So the three of us went into the towns centre local bar for some pints to drink. Relaxing and unwinding and conversing amiably.

The longterm couple are canoodled across from me. Inaudibly whispering soft words into the others ear and I find myself smiling at the loving act. Maybe, soon, I'll find someone that doesn't complete me but makes me feel complete as a whole. Maybe not my soulmate, but someone that fills the shoes of one. Maybe I'll find a Louis — a sensitive, bubbly, caring, intelligent heart. Or a Zayn — a poetic, considerate, philosophical, sensual brainiac.

Then if I'm fortunate, maybe a Harry. Someone who has the ability to make you instantly laugh. A good time, great company. And I know it's not entirely healthy comparing someone to another, but, once again, it's a subconscious thought; a subconsciously uncontrollable action. All the same it'll be nice to have someone with similar characteristics of your good friends.

Two silhouettes appear at our table, easily viewable in the dim local pub. Rare light casts upon one of the two. Giving soft brown eyes an uncommon friendly glow that's simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar— It's Liam. And Harry's standing proudly at his side already chanting amiable greetings at the three of us before sitting at our table.

anobrain // narry auWhere stories live. Discover now