** MAJOR EDITING**
Niall realises he likes Harry, his best friend. But Harry's already drowning deep in a toxic relationship with Liam, his companion.
A story of love, lust, friendship, and abandonment between five friends during their last year of...
chapter seven. the three musketeers, the plastic boyfriend, and the soy milk waiter.
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A very irrelevant social network account's quote has always stuck with me after these many years: a joke is funny the first time you've heard it. After a while, the joke begins to lose that humour once told again. Then boredom strikes after the many times you continue to hear this same banter. Always treat a relationship in the same matter, when actions tend to become repetitive.
GEMMA'S DEPARTURE MADE HARRY seize attachment. Not to just anybody — to myself and Zayn. Maybe it's because of our friendship of many years compared to Louis and Liam, or because we completely understand the bond Gemma shares with Harry. (Despite the unnoticeable difference in their ages).
Being around to witness a relationship grow between two siblings, most of my childhood, I could massively understand why Harry's having such a difficult time adjusting to this new living situation.
And to take his mind off of it, he'd surround himself with only I or Zayn. Sometimes the three of us simultaneously whenever we had the free time from schoolwork or a shift of work. Which is rarely, but whenever the amount of time exists to waste, I'd find myself wasting it alongside Harry. In his presence — in his surroundings. Liam wasn't okay with this arrangement, though.
Harry had mentioned he resented him not opening up to Liam and keeping shut like a locked box — overly confidential. But that wasn't the case when all Harry was searching for was comfort. To an extent where Harry can share every ounce of emotion in his system out through an intellectual conversation; not when his clothes are sparse around Liam or his bedroom with lack of attention focused in on the real situation at hand.
Liam hated it. Which resulted to another poisonous fight— brief but all the same tainted. Later, leading to silent treatment shared between the two for the past week, now going into the second week.
And in this second week I'm working an evening shift alongside Louis and Dylan. We usually have a half hour to spare after school before clocking in, greeting Dylan before walking to the kitchen: sanitising and changing into the Punk Rock uniform shirt that's stored in my rucksack along with my other textbooks filled with scientific and mathematical based curriculums.
It's nearly unbelievable that soon, I'll be off to university. Probably outside of town, outside of Manchester — studying further into a studies I'd like to pursue as a career later on. Most likely different from Harry or Zayn or Louis, and Liam's future professions. And maybe, just maybe, the five – really four of us – will stick together by keeping in contact as we indulge in our futures. But there's this pessimistic thought in my mind that that won't be the case. That we'll all separate and grasp new friends and new relationships as we age on further.
