The Pianist - One Direction

Chapter 40

My name is Isabelle Amanda Bower.

I was a pianist. Am a pianist. I'm the pianist.

I had one dream in my life, and I failed.

My dream changed.

I got a new family with people who believed in me and loved me from the beginning. I got to do what I loved with beautiful people in beautiful places.

My dream changed.

I only wanted him. Only needed him. Loved him.

And once again, I failed. He gave up on me.

At the first four cities we visited in the USA, he stayed at hotels and not at the buses like the rest of us. I didn't see him. Neither of us did, except half an hour before the concerts started. Actually, he showed up when the concert was supposed to start a few times, we got almost an hour late before we could enter the stage.

Once he showed up, he didn't look at me. He got ready, he talked to Lou. Small talk, nothing more. He hugged his bandmates and asked them how they were. He smiled, and made my heart break a little bit more every time. Soon, he would be completely fine and I would be a complete mess.

And not once would he look in my direction.

He took the stage as he normally did, sang as perfectly as he always did, acted the way he always did.

The only difference was that when they all went back to the big stage, he didn't look up at me and smiled wider than anybody. He looked at the floor in front of himself.

Only twice during those days did I meet his eyes. Once, he touched me. By accident, because his hand happened to touch my arm when he passed me. He didn't notice. But oh, I did. And when I met his eyes he looked away before I got to see what expression they showed.

Either Zayn was really done with me and had realised I wasn't worth fighting for, or he waited for me to talk to him first. He was too stubborn. He wouldn't take the first step.

I understood he was hurt. Of course I did. Still, it made me a bit upset because just like he said, he couldn't really expect me to say it back. But who were we fooling. Of course he should expect that.

I didn't feel like 'Isabelle, their pianist' any longer. I just did my job. Before the shows, I sat by Jared, until he had to go out and stand between the crowd and the stage when the opening band would start. He would let me stay in the guards' room alone. Jared didn't ask questions, neither did he force me to talk because he knew I wasn't in the mood for that. After having a sound check without feeling emotion for anything other than the music, since I didn't get happy by the sight of Zayn walking around below me, I usually wanted to get away. Hiding in the guards' room was the best I would get.

When I opened the door to the room where Jared usually sat, I found both Jared and Steven.

"Bower!" Steven exclaimed happily and lifted his jacket away from a chair next to him so I could sit down. I immediately smiled to him, or lifted the corners of my mouth and my eyebrows for a second at least, and walked towards him.

Steven sent me a bowl of salted peanuts and raisins, so I grabbed a handful before placing my feet on another chair so I could sit back. Steven was very nice. He wasn't one of my favourite member of the guards, but he was good at his work and I didn't doubt he would take a bullet for anyone in the crew. That's how serious he could be. He had a bad habit of asking too much, though. I hoped he would ask why I was sitting with them and not the guy who was supposed to be my boyfriend. He didn't.