The Wanted Girl

Harry's POV:
She knew I had slept with Lottie. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, I didn't really try to hide it. But I surely wasn't going to paint her a picture of exactly what had happened. Maybe it was because it wasn't publicized and she hadn't said anything about it, I thought she wasn't aware of my past... transgressions. But I should have known better than that, Brielle wasn't stupid. She was actually really really smart. Smart enough to know not to bring it up until she needed serious ammunition. And that was the moment that she needed ammunition.
I had done specifically what she told me not to do. I got involved with Sophia's decision and put ideas in Zayn's head. I wanted her to be with Louis because she made Louis HAPPY. She kept him sane, she made him a better man. She was the light of his life, in ever sense of the term. But in reality, she was all of that for Zayn as well. Deep down, I probably knew that she would choose Zayn. Zayn was the wild card. The rules didn't apply to him. Even if Louis was wild and came off indifferent about their relationship, he was still the reasonable option. Hell, he proposed to her. He confessed his love to her multiple times, broke seven phones due to her lack of response to his 'lovey-dovey' text messages, fought other lads off with a stick, and gave her more than she had ever asked for.

But that was the problem. He was putting more into the relationship than she was. He was smothering her with wonderfulness. And she didn't want it, nor did she need it. Soph was independent and strong, something I had always admired about her. She was the kind of girl who didn't falter at a lack of response from a guy, she didn't need him to fall at her feet. She knew she was a good person and she knew she was worthy of love, she didn't need to be reminded constantly.

Louis, on the other hand, needed to remind her constantly. He was no where near as secure as she was. He needed to tell her all the time that he loved her because he needed to know that she knew that he was hers. He needed the reciprocation, the 'I love you too's, to put his mind at rest. Louis Tomlinson wasn't afraid of much, but the idea of losing Sophia was the most terrifying thing he could think of. And because of that, he lost her anyways. He loved her so unbearably much that it ended up being the stick in his coffin.

And I couldn't put that together at the time, when I called Zayn. So because of that, I was now being caught in my biggest lie. I lie that I didn't necessarily tell. But Brielle was smart enough to call my bullshit on that. I had lied by omission, and that was just as bad, if not worse. Because if you lie to someone's face, it's a split second decision. You have to decide in that moment what kind of person you want to be. But when you just don't tell someone something, you have all the time in the world to decide whether or not to tell them.

Maybe it was because I had waited so long, not knowing the right time, that I passed my so-called 'window' and was too afraid to say anything to her. Or maybe it was because I'd be confirming her suspicions that I wasn't perfect. She was dying to find my flaws, which was flattering to me. She thought highly of me (by pretending she thought so little of me), and wanted to find every little thing that made me human. So she found small things, how I hate cleaning, how I can't fold clothes to save my life, how I get worked up over her not laughing at my jokes, how I'll sing songs I don't know the words to and convince myself that they're the RIGHT words and she's just crazy. All little things, she accepted. More than that, she LOVED them. She loved finding new little faults of mine, and she would smile wildly when she discovered a new one.

But something like this. Something like sleeping with my best mates underage sister? I knew it would be a fault she wouldn't smile at. She wouldn't love me for it. She would look down at me. And I didn't want that. She was hard on me about a lot of things, but she still put me on a pedestal. I couldn't stand getting knocked off of that because of a mistake I continuously made until I had met her.

The look of pure fury written on her face was enough to make me visibly shutter. She was pissed.

"If you're finished floating in your self-important bubble of BULLSHIT, I'm fucking talking to you!" she sneered, eyes narrowing.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. Maybe it was my sub-conscience telling me that no matter what I was about to say, it was going to be wrong. But she was waiting for my explanation.

"I... you were right," I mumbled.

"Excuse me?" she retorted, egging me on.

"You were RIGHT! God, Brielle, you were right! You were right about me! I'm not fucking perfect. I'm a grade-A fuckup. I slept with my best mates little sister. MULTIPLE times! For MONTHS! And while I was sleeping with her, convincing her I was in love with her, I was sleeping with other women! Tons of them. I nearly got her pregnant and that's how Louis found out. Even better, I continued to talk to her after that, trying to convince myself that she was worth my friendship with Louis. I had already fucked that up, I didn't want to lose everything! So I told her to not look at universities in New York, but stay in London for me. I told her that I'd fucking wait for her. Do you want to know why?!" I demanded.

She just stared at me in complete and utter shock.

"Because," I croaked, fighting through tears, "I'm a bad person and I don't deserve either of you."

She looked taken aback for a moment, almost like I had broken through her tough exterior. But she quickly shook it off and crossed her arms, staring me down like a mother who caught her child in the act, "Don't you dare try and make me feel bad for you."

I shook my head, "I don't want you to feel bad for me. I know this is all my fault and I don't deserve-"

She cut me off, "Jesus, Harry! Stop fucking saying that! You could be the worst human on the planet but that doesn't mean you don't deserve someone to love you! This isn't about YOU and what you deserve! This really isn't even about Louis! This is about the fact that you used a fucking CHILD for your own selfish gain!"

I was too stunned to speak, so she continued, "I know exactly why you did it. She thought you were perfection, she thought you had hung the moon. You loved how much she loved you, you didn't love her. You kept stringing her along for your own pleasure. You kept her around so that you had someone to come home to when you had no one. And now you're here, with me, and that poor girl is alone, shamed, and heartbroken because she trusted you. I always knew you slept around, but that is a new level of low. And the fact that she's Louis' little sister just makes it so much worse."

I felt a hot tear fall down my cheek and my heart shatter at just how correct she was. But I didn't dare speak. My thoughts and feelings weren't on the same page as my mouth so I didn't run the risk of making it any worse. Brielle was my Sophia. She was my light, and I knew she was at her wits end with me. Her light towards me was dimming, and I didn't want to take a chance at blacking it out completely.

She walked over and came face to face with me, stopping mere inches away. She squeezed her eyes closed momentarily before shaking it off and taking a breath, shakily releasing it as she kissed my cheek.

She stayed there for a moment, neither of us touching, but never having felt so close and so far away, "I love you so much it hurts me. But I need some time."

I nodded numbly and wide eyed, not sure of what to do. So I let her grab her purse and leave me there to cry myself to sleep at my entire world collapsing.



Niall's POV
I stayed in the back of the ally, rocking back and forth, trying to steady my breath. But I couldn't. I couldn't breath. I had had a panic attack before, but this was worse. I could feel my stomach contracting and my vision blurring, and I was terrified. I didn't want to call anyone, I had ran away for a reason. But I was too afraid in that moment. I was going to die. With every passing second, it only got worse.

I knew why it was happening. I hadn't eaten in three days, I hadn't slept for more than thirty minutes at a time in a week and a half. I had lived on a liquid diet full of beer and whisky. I was going to die in an ally and then Serena would be alone and Nathan could hurt her again. I needed to get help right then because I needed to help Serena.

So I went to my speed dial and clicked a random name.

"Niall, mate! There you are you crazy irish fucker!" Louis voice sang, happily.

The phone shook in my hand and I knew I didn't have much time before I passed out, "I'm in the ally.... next to the... hotel.. help me."

I dropped the phone and leaned my head back, allowing my breath to slow to a stop and my world fade to black.

----------The Wanted Girl----------
I woke up in my hotel, drenched in my own sweat, with half of my team and the boys around me. I saw the doctor talking to Paul, showing him sheets of data, scolding him probably for not making sure I was properly hydrated.

Which was when I realized, I was so fucking thirsty.

I opened my mouth to ask for water, but my brain had other ideas, "Where's Serena?"

Louis' eyes shot over to mine and he climbed up next to me, "She's on her way mate. Don't worry."

I relaxed a little at the thought of her being there with me. Safe. Where she belonged.

"What happened?" I asked.

Liam brought me over a glass of water and patted my back as I sat up, "You passed out from exhaustion and dehydration. Well at least that's what they're telling the media," he mumbled.

I was officially confused. Was that what happened or was that what they were telling people? Everyone had the same look on their face, they were worried. But no one would make eye contact with me. They seemed to be walking on eggshells. And I hated that.

"What actually happened Liam?" I asked.

He shrugged, "The doctor thinks it was a psychological break. Which can come from lack of sleep and a dangerously poor diet. Which is why you're getting out of your out burst on twitter."

I could feel the anger rising in my chest. Get out of my outburst? MY outburst? I told the truth! He raped someone! If ANYTHING, the outburst they should've been worried about was HIS when he forced himself onto her!

"I don't WANT to get out of the outburst on twitter! I want it to stay there FOREVER!" I said, trying to be stern.

But I was too tired. My body physically would not allow me to get upset, it was all too much. I was becoming dizzy again and the machine set up next to my bed began beeping.

The doctor walked over and looked at my scans, "Okay, everyone out. No working up my patient until he's well rested."

I didn't WANT to rest. I wanted to see Serena. She wasn't safe without me. She'd never be safe without me. I let something horrible happen to her, much more horrible than me passing out from lack of fucking sleep. And there I was, having twelve sorrowful eyes give me sympathy because I didn't eat enough and stayed up too late. And she was alone on a fifteen hour flight coming to see me! She wasn't supposed to have to take care of me when she was so broken herself. I couldn't let her see me like this.

"I'm fine!" I urged.

Harry shook his head, "It's alright. We need to get everyone together for a meeting anyways, Zayn's flying in with Soph."

I raised my eyebrows. Zayn and Sophie together? Why? Last I had heard he broke her heart and she wanted nothing to do with any of us. Which was fine by me. She was on that dumb bastards side. She blamed Serena for being a VICTIM of rape! So to Hell with her, I didn't give a damn.

"Keep her away from Serena," I mumbled.

Louis snorted, "Trust me, I doubt she wants to see her anyways."

Sophia's POV:
I looked over at Zayn and watched as he stared out of the airplane window. We hadn't said more than three words to eachother throughout the flight and it was probably best that way. We were stuck in a confined area and if an argument broke out, we had no escape plan. So we opted for not speaking at all.

That was, until he decided that he was feeling spiritually enlightened.

"It's like so beautiful, you know, the world. The sky goes on for like, ever. Gods like, really sick," he said in awe.

I tried to take him seriously, I really did. But combining Zayn Malik, self-proclaimed bad boy, with an unusually inspirational sentence and a vocabulary of a third grade valley girl, you can't help but think it's funny. Not to mention, he actually referred to God himself as sick.

So I laughed, hard.

"What's so funny?" he asked, seriously.

That only made me laugh even harder. To the extent that I couldn't stop laughing. It was just fucking hilarious. And it felt so fucking good to laugh. I felt like I hadn't laughed in ages. I felt like I had released a breath I didn't even know I was carrying. I was relieved, revived even.

"Thank you," I mumbled, through my last few giggles.

"I still don't see what's so funny," he replied, gazing out of the window once more.

I snorted, "I almost forgot how often you say 'like', and you just referred to God as 'sick' so.."

He didn't turn to me, but I could see him trying (and failing miserably) not to smile. He just shook his head and kept sky gazing like a moron.

"I'm just a lover of life, alright?" he said, sarcastically.

I laughed again, "Oooookay Zayn."

He turned to me in surprise, almost with an offended look on his face, "What?! You don't agree?"

And here comes the argument we were trying to avoid.

I shrugged, "Well you did just stay in your house, drinking your feelings and refusing to shower, neglecting your fans and friends, so that you could mope. So I'm not sure if that's under the 'lover of life' job description."

I was expecting a rude or sarcastic remark, some sort of disgust to seep out of his facial expression. But he didn't. He just nodded.

"Touché."

Notes

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