It's Not What It Looks Like

Louis sits down next to me and stares into his drink, pushing the ice around with his straw. We sit in silence for a minute or two, pretty much ignoring the fact that the other person even existed. If it were anyone else, this would be strange. But it's Louis, and there isn't much to say that would pass as casual conversation so we're filling that allotted time with quiet time instead of bullshit. At least we understand that about eachother and choose not to lie to ourselves.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and takes a sip of his clear drink, "I stopped drinking."

I nod, "I see that. Good for you," I reply.

"I'm sorry about today. All of it. It's bullshit that they'd do that to you. We didn't have anything to do with it," He explains.

I roll my eyes, "It's over and done with. I'd like to go back to moving on from you all anyways."

He finally looks up at me with an understanding look in his eyes, "I know this isn't my place to ask you and all but... Do you think you'd try to talk to him about everything? He misses you a lot."

I know he wasn't talking about Harry. But other than that, I'm sure which boy he's referring to. Not that it matters anyway, I don't want to talk to any of them.

"No thanks," I reply.

"B come on, he's been a right mess without you," He pleads.

"I'm not even sure who you're talking about Louis. And whoever it is, I don't want to. I'm barely okay with talking to you, let alone any of them," I spit, glaring into his new found soul.

"Niall, Blair. I wouldn't ask you to talk to Liam or Zayn. But Niall misses you more than any of us. He's refused managements attempts to make him seem more desirable, sent flowers to your house every week, never stops crying. He's like a love sick teenage girl."

I can feel the anger building inside of me, this is NOT my fault. Nor is it my problem.

"Niall can suck it the fuck up. He's not my problem, he's yours. So how about instead of you sitting here trying to fix ME, go and fix him," I bark.

He leans forward and presses his index finger into my chest, "How about you stop being a conceited bitch for five seconds and take care of the mess that YOU helped create. You're not the only one who was heartbroken after you left!"

"Oh really? How would you fucking know?! You were blacked out seventy percent of the time! You're like a guy who finally gets his shit together then comes back and trying to be a father to his children! What about all of the messes I had to clean up for YOU! Might I remind you about Belfast-"

He cuts me off, "Don't you dare fucking bring that up, Blair. I had a DISEASE!"

I glare at him through gritted teeth, "A disease that you willingly gave yourself!"

Flashback: Belfast, TMH tour.

*ring ring ring*
Louis' phone is going off again. It's Paul this time. Fuck. I can't handle Paul. I ignore it and walk towards the bartender.

"Have you seen Louis Tomlinson anywhere?" I ask, hoping he would notice the famous boys whereabouts.

He nods, "Saw him walk upstairs with a guy. Looked a little tipsy."

I turn to the staircase and push through the loads of people in my way. If I lose him again I'm fucked. What could he possibly be doing upstairs?!

I finally get to the staircase and a large man in an all black suit eyes me up and down. Gross.

"My friend just went upstairs," I explain, hoping he'll let me by.

"Name?" He asks.

"Louis Tomlinson."

He shakes his head, "No sweetheart, YOUR name."

"Blair Kelly."

He looks down sarcastically at his empty clipboard, "Hm.. Don't have that name on here. Sorry love."

I need to think. What can I say to this guy to make him let me in?

"I'm his keeper for the evening. He has a recurring drug problem and is being watched by the government. If he gets caught around any sort of illegal activity everyone in this place will be fucked. And I have a feeling we'll BOTH loose our jobs. I know you're not supposed to do this but he's on medication right now that could kill him if he mixes it with anything else. I don't think 'dead popstar' would be a good look for this place," I notion around to the bar and the man narrows his eyes at me.

"If anyone asks, I did not let you in here," He hisses.

I smile and pat his shoulder, "Thank you SO much. I need this job."

That's not exactly a lie. I think.

I walk up the steep set of stairs and find myself in front of three doors. Where would he be?! I listen to some laughter and open the door to see three girls giggling around a crack pipe. Not Louis, he draws the line at blow. I smile apologetically and turn to the next door, opening it to see Louis passed out on the floor with a bloody nose and sweat rolling down every inch of his body.

Holy fucking shit.

I walk over to him and nudge him, "Lou?"

No response.

"Louis, love. Answer me."

No response.

I press my fingers against his wrist to feel a very faint, sporadic pulse. I look at the cocaine wedged in his hand and shutter. We had an eighth at the beginning of the night. Now there's not even enough left for a small, single, line. This would be enough to put him in a coma with the amount of alcohol he's consumed. Add the ecstasy we popped earlier... Louis will be dead in an hour.

I've never ratted Louis out before. I like to take care of him myself and enjoy the breakfast he makes me as a thank you. Our nights together are our release from everyday life. But this is more than even I can handle. Especially alone. I think through my options of who I can call. Paul? No. Just no. Liam? Probably a worse idea than Paul. Harry? Probably getting beat up and he'd be pissed if we interrupted anyway. Little fucking twat. Zayn? It's late and he's got to be asleep by now. That leaves... Niall.

I dial his number and keep smacking Louis cheeks, watching his eyes flutter every once and awhile. I say little stupid things that will hopefully keep him partially awake.

"Mmmm Blair?" He asks, sounding half asleep.

My panic sets in, and I can feel my voice shaking before I even open my mouth.

"Niall... I... help!" I plead.

"Blair, baby, what's wrong? Where are you?" He asks, sounding more alert.

"I'm at that pub Louis likes downtown. It's Louis, he's sick. I.. I need you to get an ambulance here for him but I know better than to call and have him drug out of here."

"Baby stay calm. I'll take care of it. We're on our way."

I panic even more, "Who's we?!"

"I'm going to wake the boys up."

I want to protest, but right now, Louis is the only thing that I can think about. I hang up the phone and stroke Lou's cheek.

"Louis honey please wake up.. Please. You're really scaring me!"

His pulse disappears once again.

End Flashback



I shake my head in disbelief, "Don't try and tell me that your 'disease' didn't affect me more than them. I was terrified for you!"

He lifts up his glass, "Well I'm clean. So I guess it all worked out."

I groan, "No. Not really. The GUILT I felt for losing track of you that night didn't only almost cost you your life. But me, mine."

He furrows his eyebrows, "What are you talking about?"

I shutter and think back to later that night.

Flashback:

I set the pills and coke out, one by one. A bottle of jack, ten pills of ecstasy, and six lines of coke. This would be enough to kill a fucking horse. Perfect. I take a few shots of Jack, hoping to feel something. Anything. Anything other than this immense guilt in my stomach. Louis' in a coma. It's my fault. Why him? He's funny. And kind. And a total pain in my ass. But he's one of my bestfriends. I knew he had a problem and I enabled him to get this way. I take another shot of jack in hopes that I'll stop crying. Why am I crying? This isn't even about me! I'm being so selfish and I don't know what to do.

I roll up the bill and flip my hair over my shoulder, leaning down to the table. I press my free hand against one side of my nose and sniff through the bill with the other. Within moments, I feel the sour drip fall down the back of my throat. Time for more whiskey. I take another shot. The burn of the whiskey kills off the drip and adds an edge to the high. The coke won't hit me for another ten minutes. I'll probably be dead in an hour. Comatose in thirty minutes. Which is why I need to finish this so that hopefully I'll be long gone before anyone finds me and it won't be as painful.

I lean back down and do another line, feeling my brain pulse in my skull. I lean back on the couch and stare at the ceiling, watching the fan spin around. I reach for the bottle and knock it over, spilling all over my pills. Fuck.

I know better than to wait much longer, they'll dissolve and be useless. I grab the three that are slowly disintegrating and put them as far back in my throat as possible. Melted E is by far the most foul tasting thing on the planet. It's like chewing a pain pill. Effective, yes. Gross, absolutely.

I lean back on the couch again, counting how many times the ceiling fan spins around. At fifty, I'll take another shot and do another line. I get to thirty six and hear a banging on the door.

"BLAIR!" Liam screams frantically.

Fuck.

I decide not to answer him. Instead, I'll take another shot. The banging on the door not only continues, but get's louder. Only this time, It's Zayn yelling.

"Love, please open the door. We're scared baby. You took the alcohol and all of Louis' stash is gone."

I won't reply. I'll take another shot.

"BLAIR HARPER KELLY I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL BREAK THIS FUCKING DOOR DOWN," Liam snarls.

I don't answer. I just lean back, and watch the fan twirl. The banging on the door is now giving me a headache. Other than that, I feel twisted and wonderful. I can't feel anything. My entire body is numb and I haven't blinked in over a minute. I can't hear anything either, really.

That is, until someone begins shaking me.

"Stay with me. Blair, come on. I'm right here," Liam says.

I can hear Zayn on the phone, but I'm only catching some of the words.

"She's my.... she.... love... don't care..... I..... make... swear to god..... I love her," Is the last thing I pick up before everything goes black.



End flashback.

I finish my story and take the last sip of my drink, pushing it to the bar.

"I... I didn't know..." He begins.

I roll my eyes, "I'm not telling you because I want your pity. I'm telling you because I want you to know that I understand why me bringing that up upsets you and I'm sorry. But clearly the both of our choices have effected a lot of people."

He nods and smiles, "We were always the fun ones. Without a suicide attempt, you really don't get the feel for 'living life on the edge.'"

I scoff and allow my first real smile of the day. I think about all that Louis' said to me and realize that I do owe him something. One thing. That's it.

"If you would really like me to talk to Niall, I will," I mumble.

His eyes go wide and his raises his eyebrows, giving me an amused expression, "Wow? So all I have to do is have a heart to heart with you to do what I say? If I make you cry can I have TWO wishes?!"

I punch his shoulder, "Shut the fuck up and tell me where the irish princess is before I change my mind."

He stands up and holds his hand out to me, "Ma lady."

I hook my arm with his and follow him out of the bar and through the actual hotel. With every step I'm taking and every floor we pass on the elevator, I'm regretting this. But for some reason, the genuine smile on Louis' face is keeping me further occupied. He looks so happy. And I know I'm not the reason for it, but I want to be around a little longer to get to keep seeing it.

"Here we are," he says, pointing to the door.

I hold my hand out to knock but stop myself and look back at Louis, "I don't know if I can do this."

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door before turning and running down the hall, "You can thank me later!" He screams.

The door opens and a very sleepy Niall Horan stands in front of me. His eyes go wide and he rubs them furiously, probably making sure he isn't dreaming.

"Blair?" He whispers.

I smile sheepishly, "Hi Ni, can I talk to you?

Notes

I'm totally not used to writing in present tense! ahhh switching back and forth with this story and TWG is driving me batty!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!