August 29, 2012

Rosie's nerves were getting to her. Her hands kept shaking and the lump in her throat refused to be swallowed. She did her best to handle the tray of drinks up the stairs but the audible clinks of the glasses gave her away. How do you handle not being important enough to be remembered by your childhood best friend? How do you handle being remembered by a massive music mogul but not by your best friend? She couldn't wrap her head around it. Even more so, her childhood best friend who has never shown a lick of interest in her had the nerve to hit on her? She didn't want to understand. She didn't want to believe it.

"Do you have an idea on what you're getting?" She asked quietly as she approached their table. She slowly handed out the drinks accompanied by cold glasses. She was being watched by the woman, seemingly unimpressed by what she was wearing no doubt. The added societal pressure of judgement wasn't helping with the fact that she was standing in front of people who knew her, got to know her, and dropped her the second they didn't need her anymore.

"Give us a moment, please," Simon said politely.

Rosie nodded and proceeded to her original table. She put on a smile and took their orders, doing her best to shake off her nerves and put on her servers façade. She chatted and collected her orders on her notepad when Simon called her back over. She felt herself get smaller and smaller as Harry's loud whispers of frustration halted when she turned and walked to their table.

She smiled and asked for their orders. Only Niall and Liam seemed to be hungry, ordering chips and burgers; the others were still consumed in the menu. Rosie stood awkwardly waiting for the placement of their order when Simon asked for the specials.

"Uh," She stuttered, "We don't really do specials here – however, the seafood here is our speciality and anything with potato in it is fantastic; the owner is straight out of Ireland." She chuckled, completely ignoring the boys.

"I could go for some fish and chips, what about you, Lou?" Harry patiently asked, switching his gaze from the older boy playing on his phone to his left to a dishevelled Rosie. Placing his dimpled grin on his face after being ignored, he said as a matter-of-factly, "Well, I'll have it at least."

"You got wings, babe?" Louis spoke after Harry, looking up from his phone, resting his eyes on hers. "You know, chicken wings – wings of a chicken, wings that can fly–"

"Yes," Rosie stopped him abruptly, scowling at his slurs. She turned to Simon who was still looking at the menu as if nothing happened. "And you, sir?" She smiled.

"How is the shrimp here?"

Rosie grin grew. "Ou! It's one of the best I've tasted. Literally it's heaven. The sauce is made from scratch and it's just, uh, it's to die for," she raved, happy to talk to anyone but the drunk chicken lover.

"Wonderful, I'll have that." Simon said, handing the menu back to her. He looked over the group then glanced back to her and gave her a polite nod.

"Lovely, would that be it?" She smiled, accepting the menus being handed back to her. "Great, I'll be back in ten minutes or less."

Her smile disappeared as she made her way to the kitchen. Jason followed her hurried pace as she dodged multiple tables and coworkers. Everyone wanted to know how it went down. The staff knew that Rosie was abandoned by her best friend after the X Factor and everyone knew how much resentment she held for him. No one expected her to be so calm, everyone thought she would blow up and throw a tantrum.

"I'll take the shift if you need to leave," Jason started. He followed her to the kitchen counter, watching her pin the two orders to the board. "We can switch tables; I only have one so you can do homework or something while you wait."

Rosie turned to his classic smile, "Don't pity me. I can handle it," she muttered coldly, brushing away from him.

He reached out to her elbow, softly looking at her, "You good?"

Her scowl softened. "Good enough." She nodded, knowing that lying to him was helpless. Jason was the type who knew her inside and out, who took the time to memorize her lies and her laugh. He stood up for her when she had no legs and she loved him for it. "That woman that came in with them is a straight bitch though. Like fuck you, I didn't ask to wear this hideous thing."

He cracked a laugh, easing the tension. "She actually said something?"

"No but it was the beady little eyes looking at me. Like fuck your business casual outfit. The fucking bellend is going to get jumped if she keeps wearing shit like that in this area." She rolled her eyes.

She chatted with Jason until her dinger went off to serve her tables. She decided to take the family's dishes first, as they've been waiting longer. She placed all four plates on a tray and did her best to balance it up the stairs to the table. She apologized for the wait and distributed the meals before refilling water glasses.

"I swear I know this place like the back of my hand. I like, lived here when I-," Rosie overheard Louis say over the sound of clinking glasses. "Just let me go to the toilet and I'll be right back."

Rosie ignored Louis' lazy attempts to get up from his seat, told the family that she'll be back to check up and returned to the main counter where the food is placed. Jason helped her carry the overall order; he had been serving tables since he was Rosie's age – just less than 4 years. It was easy for him to navigate and weave in between tables without dropping a crumb.
She watched him as he walked in front of her, his black cardigan sticking tightly to his body. His hair was long enough to be in a full messy bun but he refused to tame it. She smiled to herself and looked away – she was staring plainly and she hated it. She thought that he was immensely attractive.

Someone bumped into her roughly, making Rosie lose her footing for a moment. She nearly spun and knocked over her tray if she hadn't been stable. Grabbing her tray with two hands, her gaze focused on the food making sure she didn't drop anything. Two hands landed on her hips to steady themselves, swaying her further in the process. "Sorry about that, love, got a bit carried away," he laughed. "You're quite the waitress, not dropping that er, thingy with the food and... stuff."

Rosie looked at the man slowly, feeling her anger grow. Her chest was heaving slightly, trying to calm down but when her eyes landed on a hazed over Louis, grinning like a child, she felt her last nerve burst. "Watch where you're going next time then." She glanced at him coldly, ripping his fiery grip away.

She proceeded to walk to her table, ignoring the worried glances from her onlooking coworkers. She faked a smile and arrived at their table. "I apologize for the wait; some drunk man decided to be funny and bump into me." She smiled, looking at Jason who was refilling water. She was giving the signal to go check up on him but she knew he wasn't catching her drift. "He ended by the bar but I think he was looking for the loo," she paused, trying to be subtle, raising her eyebrow. "Jason, can you go guide him to them?" He finally clued in and nodded, dismissing himself and quickly running down the steps. She turned back to the table, looking tired and concerned. "Right, so, I hope you enjoy your meal and I'll check up on you later."

"Rosie," Harry stopped her as she was leaving, "you know Louis right?"

She paused, her smile fading. She was so consumed in the fact that he didn't remember ten years of friendship that she neglected the fact that she didn't recognize him. She answered simply, "I don't recall."

oOo
Rosie ended up switching with Jason after Louis returned to his seat. He made quite an impression with the staff as he kept screaming and throwing a tantrum for a beer. If it wasn't for that woman, who Rosie found out to be Lisa, talking to Marty about having the situation under control, they would be happily kicked out. She thought that she could handle seeing him but she knew that it was wrong. He was wrong. He wasn't the same and the boy in the back of her mind that cried with her when she was torn apart, the boy who she grew to love and learned life experiences with was replaced with a boy who was so far up his own ass that everything he said was bullshit. He wasn't really Louis and she wanted nothing to do with him.

"Louis just fucked over his whole team," Jason laughed as he sat next to Rosie on a bar stool. "They're stationed in the city until he gets his act together."

Rosie's eyebrows rose. "Are you serious? How long does he have?"

"I dunno, he's not happy about it though. He was yelling and everything. He goes, 'you can't do this to me! I'm part of the band! Blah blah blah.' Quite funny really. It's good that you got rid of him, he seems like a big baby to me."

Rosie slapped his arm harshly. "Don't be a dick."

"He was being a dick to you," he rebutted, shrugging. "He kept asking where you went. So did Simon. They can't leave until they know for sure that there are no paps or anything around. They already have a bunch of security guards in the back."

"Such divas," Rosie uttered forging a laugh. She felt compelled to check up on them but she knew she shouldn't. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She glanced at the time, noticing that she had another hour until her shift ends. Biting her lip, Rosie shyly asked, "Do they, um, need any drinks or anything?"

"Not that I know of. Why don't you go check?" Jason sighed.

She didn't understand why she leaped out of her chair so fast or why Jason wasn't telling her no, but she was interested; captivated by the idea of Louis' punishment. Perhaps it was because she wanted to see him one last time before they left or perhaps it was payback from the constant torture she endured since he left -- or maybe it was the old curiosity of a best friend. Regardless, she made her way to their section.

Rosie reached the steps quietly when she heard them. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to go up to her. The group were now isolated as the only occupied other table left and didn't bother keeping quiet. The air was a lot tenser than before, half of the group had already left. She noticed Simon moving over to the end of the booth seat, opening a file. Rosie quickly ducked behind the wall by the stairs.

"This is strictly business Louis. I will have eyes everywhere." Simon clicked his pen.

"Weekly discussions seem a bit excessive, Simon," Harry chimed in.

"It's either this or rehabilitation, which that could be the worst possible image you can have for a family friendly band like yours." Lisa rebutted, sighing. "Have you contacted your mother, Mr. Tomlinson?"

"Maybe we should change our fucking image then," Louis argued. "None of us are fucking kids anymore. Don't treat us like it. There's nothing wrong with me. I just like to have fun, is that a fucking crime?"

"Louis, for God's sake," Simon said muffled. Rosie peaked over the ledge and saw his head in his hands, "if you can't tell what's wrong here, then something is wrong. It's not even about the band at this point. It is a crime, legally. You're breaching your contract and you're being selfish on all accounts." Simon raised his head and locked eyes with Rosie peering.

Oh fuck. Rosie's heart stopped. She was straight up caught and with the slight knowing smirk on Simon's face, she was caught red handed and she had to come forward. After taking in a big breath, Rosie straightened herself out and approached the table. "Hey, I was just checking up on you guys, see if you need anything."

"Rosie, may I have your honest opinion on something, please?" Simon asked leaning back, resting the pen between his fingers.

"Er... should I be scared?" She nervously laughed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Simon paused and made eye contact with her. "What do you think about Louis' behaviour within the last year or so?"

Rosie was stunned. Why is he asking her? More importantly, how would a normal person respond to that? His behaviour was out of character for the old Louis but it seemed to fit the new one. She can comment on the fact that he was living life as a bachelor, partying, drinking, girls, that it's nothing out of the ordinary for a pop star. One night stands every night, DUIs, and treating everyone who supported him like they mean nothing to him was the new Louis. She can comment on the little courtesy for fans, that he can't repair the broken relationships he created since his departure. His new bachelor life style didn't accommodate for his family, his old best friends and of course, his one night stands, as he treats them like dirt on the sidewalk: ignoring them, treats them like slaves or toys. Fame definitely got to his head and made him lose all the sweet qualities that Rosie loved about him. She gave up on trying to mend what once was a while ago. So as Simon stared at her waiting for a response, she stuttered, not knowing what to comment on. "In what terms?"

Simon paused for a moment, thinking of something that would be easy for her to answer. "A former Doncaster resident."

"Oh he's a complete tool in our books," she stated nonchalantly, not missing a beat. This question allowed her to distance herself from Louis, which she appreciated. "At first we were proud and then, well."

Obviously offended, Louis scowled, leaning back in his seat. "Wow, you must get quite a lot of tips with that mouth of yours."

"Wow, you must have lost a lot of brain cells with that alcohol addiction of yours." She mocked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh wow, look at you, calling me out." Louis laughed sarcastically. "Do you feel nice and big now?"

"Not as big as your ego there, love," Rosie retorted. "Maybe you should focus more on the road whilst you drive than your comebacks, yeah?" Sarcastically smiling, Rosie turned to Simon, waiting for him to intervene or respond to her initial comment but he didn't.

In the harshest tone Rosie has ever heard, Louis argued, "That's rich coming from a girl who probably can't even afford a car."

Rosie paused for a second, dumbfounded by what he just said. Rosie couldn't understand how someone could be that ignorant. The fact that he was trying to seem superior because of his financial situation differing from hers was tasteless. Blinking slowly, Rosie turned back and tilted her head slightly to the side. She swallowed the lump in her throat harshly and retorted, "That's rich coming from a man who has everything but no one."

Louis paused, much sober than he was when he first met her. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and surprise. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" he stopped and sat up straight seemingly changing his aggressive stature. "Are you some stalker fan?"

Marty entered out of nowhere with two bodyguards behind him. "Er, there are a few fans outside. The back entrance is available to you if need it." Marty placed his hands on her shoulders, seemingly comforting her tense shoulders.

"Thank you, sir -- Rosie," Simon smiled.

Marty calmly guided a frozen girl away from the table. It wasn't until she was back at the bar when she felt tears welled up in her eyes. He didn't remember her. He didn't respect her. There was no love, no friendship, no remorse. He insulted her, even more so than before.

With the tingle in her nose and the tightness in her throat, she ran into the staff washroom passed the lounge, wanting all the stares to stop. Her embarrassment collected in her face, reddening her pale skin worse than her tears were. She took some toilet paper and folded it, trying her best to catch to her running mascara. She had another shift to get to and she had to look her best to get tips.

"Rosie," Courtney called through the bathroom. "I have your stuff. Marty asked if you wanted to go home early."

Sniffling, she collected herself enough to open the door to get her bag. "I can't, I need the money." Quietly, Rosie took her bag and shut the door without looking at her.

She took out her phone, screen cracked and battered. She had a few messages from Abigail and her sister but she ignored it and got dressed in her barmaid outfit. Black and revealing, she shimmied into black translucent striped tights before a short black skirt. Her top, a black cropped halter top, revealed her freckled shoulders and arms. Her short legs looked long with her heels on, but it wouldn't stop her from resenting the pain of them all night. She fixed her makeup and hair, letting her blonde curly tresses free. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath in the mirror, replacing her frown with a professional smile, just like she practiced before.
Like ripping off a band-aid, Rosie opened the door softly. She threw her backpack over her shoulder and continued to the staff lounge to lock it up.

When she walked into the old, opened lounge, she was surprised to see Marty and Simon talking quietly on one of the sofas.

"I thought you left?" Rosie furrowed her eyebrows.

Marty stood in between them, mouthing inaudible incoherent words. It was obvious that she walked in on them having a private meeting on either about her or a sensitive matter.

"I actually wanted to see you. Please, sit." Simon instructed, waving onto the love seat Marty once occupied.

As she sat down she looked at Marty, who was way too dazed to verbalize what was going on. He was worried, and that was never a good sign.

"I'd like to formally apologize for Mr. Tomlinson's behaviour. It was completely out of line and I want take responsibility for it," Simon started. "You handled yourself very well."

Rosie felt herself sinking into the ripped leather couch, feeling rather small. She didn't want his apology or compliment. She didn't want it from him. "Thank you."

Simon sat there with a pensive look on his face. His eyes scanned both Rosie and the man now sitting beside her. "If I can recall correctly, you auditioned with him right? You're the girl who sang Carrie Underwood?" He smiled, attempting to conversation with the stoic girl. Sighing, he sat forward, forearms resting on his thighs with his hands clasped in the middle. "I want to proposition you with a deal." He stared at her wide eyes. "A deal to help Louis."

Notes