Where It Went Wrong » Larry

20 - Attempts

ATTEMPTS

"Louis, are you okay?" Zayn asked once they were back in the hotel room. Louis hadn't been responded, completely going numb and silent like it was too painful for him to even speak. He was watching the ground, wondering how his life had came to this point --wanting to die, willing to kill yourself and not even caring.

Louis didn't even try to nod, he didn't look up from the little spot he was staring at as he thought about the cocaine that was stashed away in his suitcase. He could really do with the drugs right now. He really needed to forget what was going on. The word fag was still running through his mind, burning his thoughts and crowding his thoughts.

Fag, fag, fag.

"Louis!" Zayn tried to speak through Louis's hazy mind, trying to get through to him. "Will you be okay if I leave you here for a few minutes? I need to catch you some food for tonight."

 Louis couldn't even think straight -- let alone make a decision for himself but nodded briskly anyway. Being alone would benefit him, he could snort all the coke, maybe have a spliff or two and forget the world. Zayn couldn't stop him if he wasn't here and that was what he needed, he needed to be alone and he needed Zayn to get out of here right now. So, he got up and ushered Zayn out of the door before collapsing on the floor behind the door. 

His thoughts consisted of Harry, Harry's curls, his smile, his dimples and then his smile when he was around Dalton. The man who changed Louis's life, ruined it and made it hard to deal with. He had everything he could ask for in the world and yet, he was here miserable more than ever and never wanted to disappear more than ever. 

He was sick and tired of being reminded of Harry everywhere he went, never able to escape the thoughts and always seeing him in everything he did. If Louis met someone, he would relate it back to Harry and compare the meetings. Harry consumed most of his thoughts because he was so in love with the boy, never felt more passionate about the younger boy and never wanted to have someone more deeply in his whole life. Louis's only lived 22 years and in more than half of those years, he's only wanted Harry.

But, it went beyond that. Louis was sick and tired of being followed by the paparazzi, being harassed by the dickheads behind the cameras who were hellbent in capturing every moment of his life. Couldn't they accept that he was human and he needed space too? All they did was torment him, follow him around and never giving him a second to breathe. Not to mention, the words they screamed at him to bring him down.

Louis glanced around the empty hotel room, desperately throwing his clothes out of his bag whilst trying to grab a bottle of alcohol and bringing it up to his lips like his whole life depended on it. He didn't even wince as the familiar burn went down his throat, clogging up his whole brain as he hazily stood up and tried to do anything, anything to get out of this endless rut.

Then, all of a sudden, it snapped inside of him as he eyed the balcony cautiously. He was quite high up-- maybe 15 floors up, and it all seemed so tempting. Everything seemed to fit into place with the timing, the convenience of the high floor and his mood and Louis wasn't even thinking anymore. He was following blindly.

He threw the bottle to one side, gathering his breath and courage. He didn't know what the consequences would follow but he hoped, prayed he would die, now and today. It would end the suffering, bring an stop to his pitiful life and he would no longer have to go through this for another day. It all seemed sense. All of it would stop: all the people, all the news, the media, his unrequited love. He felt terrible for leaving his friends behind without any explanation but maybe they'll understand?

Louis is miserable, he's never been able to smile and mean it for three whole years straight and how many more years will he torture himself? He knows he isn't enjoying this anymore, he knows that this isn't what he signed up for. He knows that it's gone ahead too much, it's ruined his life and left him begging for any sort of relief, any way to get over this and forget this ever happened. Since when did fulfilling and following your dreams mean it would bring double the amount of sorrow to your life?