Liam James Payne. August 29th 1993 – May 3rd 2014. Loving Son, brother, band mate and friend. Everytime Louis read the message scrawled across the grave stone his head throbbed with thoughts, could he have stopped Liam from leaving that night? Was it all his fault? Each boy had their own reasons to blame themselves, each boy had their own way of healing. This is their story of tragedy , and self pity, how will they survive without the glue that held the band together?


2. Morning Sun


Chap 2

Morning Sun


The lingering smell of ash, spread through Harry’s crinkled t-shirt. The memories of the prior night washed through his mind, as the pounding headache erupted through his aching body. The nights since Liam’s passing had been rough on the poor lad, but if you were an outsider you would never notice, not with the way he had been partying. Girls, he remembered girls, and that pretty much summed up his evening. It was every morning when he realized he shouldn’t have drank that much, every single morning he promised himself as he crawled out of bed that he would have an evening in.

His eyes skimmed the clock this particular morning; the dimly lit room was enough to keep his eyes from hurting. He craned his neck to see if anybody was in the bed beside him, he hated when that happened. He hated when he brought girls home. He couldn’t just leave them asleep when it was in his house. He couldn’t just walk out the door and never come back. Luckily for him, there was no extra body sprawled across his mattress. He was alone, unless you counted the purring of his silky black cat.

The cat purred once a form of life appeared, as Harry sat up, the kitty crawled instantly towards his lap, lapping up the attention as he sleepily scratched her behind her ears. Harry’s love for his pet always amazed Liam, who secretly expected Harry to forget to feed it. Yet even drunk Harry managed to leave out the cat biscuits every night as he stumbled into his home. It had become second nature to him, a habit, just not one that would be advised to break.

Harry reached over to the bedside table, where his phone was placed face down. With a swipe of the screen and a press of a button, the familiar number was blaring up as a phone call. He pressed the machine to his ear and listened in for the voice mail. “Hi, this is Liam. Sorry I missed your call; I will give you a buzz when I can.” Harry sighed, ‘No you won’t Liam.’ He thought to himself sadly. No matter how many times Harry had dialled that number, he never felt any better. Hearing his voice just tore him up on the inside, making him remember the night of his death clearer and clearer.

“Harry, look at them all.” Liam pointed out the window of their van, fans were following their cars down the street, all of them were staring out of their tinted windows in awe. It’s not like they hadn’t been noticed before. During X-Factor they had been treated like celebrities, but this was different, they had their own album by then and everything just seemed so surreal. Harry patted Louis’ knee nodding over at Liam who was over-excited. He gave him a little nod, as if to say ‘Yeah I have my own eyes.’ It’s not like Harry didn’t like Liam, of course he did, but the two of them weren’t the closest of the band is all.

Thinking back to that exact moment only saddened Harry deep down in his guilty heart. Why hadn’t he made effort to become closer to Liam? It just didn’t seem fair! The thing that made it all worse was the events of that very night. He didn’t even want to think about what his last words to Liam were; he had blocked it out from his memory completely. The bottom line was they were certainly not pleasant.

The clutch Harry had on his phone was growing tighter, so tight in fact that his knuckles were turning white, the stress of the memories pained his mind. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he couldn’t think clearly ever since that phone call. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t completely sober that night because hell, he could remember that phone call. The one he almost dismissed.

Liam has been in an accident.” 

No, he couldn’t have been in an accident, this had to be a joke!

“He’s in surgery”

Very funny Louis! I am not in the mood for your stupid games!

“It doesn’t look good Harry.”

Oh come on, where is he hiding? Put him on the phone.

“I think you should come down here H.”

Those words sank through his body, why was it that he assumed Louis was joking? Their relationship had been strained, but Harry never thought it was that bad. Why in the world couldn’t he read him the way he used to? It just threw him right off. Before he knew what he was doing, Louis’ number was plastered upon his calling screen. Louis wouldn’t answer, he told himself over and over, hoping he was wrong, hoping he was paranoid. He had to be imagining it in his head, right? “Hey this is Louis, either I don’t want to talk to you or I can’t. Leave a message and I will probably forget to get back to you.”  

His heart sank, he knew it would happen, he had prepared himself yet of course it still hurt. His best friend, Liam’s best friend, didn’t want to talk to him. Deep down Harry didn’t even blame him. It wasn’t as if he had been the greatest mate to either of them in the recent months. Google news had informed Harry of Louis’ whereabouts every day since the funeral, and when that was lacking, twitter seemed to do the trick. He never once checked his mentions. He didn’t want to read through stupid sympathy tweets. He didn’t deserve them, not when he knew that it was all his fault that Liam left that night. Nobody understood that, Nobody. The fans had no idea what their lives were really like, all they saw was what they wanted to show, they didn’t see the friendships being torn apart, they never saw the arguments, or the stress they had almost every day. They didn’t want it that way, Harry didn’t want it that way.

The late night calls he shared with his Mum were the only release he had, he couldn’t tell Niall or Zayn about his envy, he couldn’t tell Liam or Louis either. She was the only person who knew about the argument with Liam, and Harry loved her for it. The night before the funeral, she was laying down with him in his room. He curled his fingers around hers, as he took in a huge breath. He hadn’t yet cried, he didn’t think he deserved the tears. It’s not like Liam would want him to cry over him either. Something in the way she had been his comfort made him break down. As soon as one tear fell, there was nothing to stop the flood waters erupting down his pretty face.

“Let them out.” She whispered, as he rolled over to hug her. The way she patted his back, the way she held her baby boy, took Harry back to the days of his childhood. Those days, when he had just had enough and needed a cuddle; or those mornings, when he and Gemma would snuggle up under her blankets. One on either side of Anne, each holding onto her arms, they would talk about everything under the sun, boyfriend’s, girlfriend’s, school work, television, fights, dreams, everything you could name, it was their special time, something he missed having in his life.

“Hi Lou, it’s me Harry. I miss you.” He whispered before hanging up as warm stinging tears rolled down his cheeks. Louis didn’t care, how would he? He hated that he was selfish enough to keep thinking like that, poor little Harry misses his best friend. Why couldn’t he just focus on the fact that his life had changed forever? Liam was gone and was never coming back. The band was over, and it was probably all his fault.

He threw his phone across the bed with one swift movement, tiptoeing across the floor and walking straight into his bathroom, his boxers were flung across the cold tiles, as he aimed into the toilet, for some reason watching himself pee took his memories back even further, to a day he hasn’t forgotten.



You were good out there.” Louis told him, patting him on the shoulder, Harry had hung his head in embarrassment. Compliments had never been his strong point, at sixteen he was still in that shy stage of communication. “Thanks, you were great too.” He returned the kind words, he meant it though, he had been watching Louis from backstage. The kid had talent, although he couldn’t call him kid to his face.  “Can I have a photo with you?” Louis had asked, the request was quite strange, but Harry never questioned it. As soon as the photograph was snapped, Harry had this sudden feeling of fulfillment; all of his nerves from the competition were suddenly gone. He was calm, he wanted to win so badly, but it wasn’t until right then and there did he actually believe he could do it.

The warm water of Harry’s shower, soothed his aching headache, the sound of the running water, and a light hum would be the only thing heard if anyone were to walk in at that moment. He never sang in the shower, always too embarrassed and never wanting to turn into one of those people. Humming was the extent of his shower career. Liam always sang in the shower, everybody knew it too. Those days when they shared a bathroom, those days when all four of them would tease him over it, but Liam didn’t care. He was just too happy, and they all took advantage of that. Liam was the happiest person Harry had ever met, he was always positive and sure it annoyed him at times, it was probably the best quality the boy had and Harry admired him for it, despite all the hard feelings that had overpowered in his last months of life.

“He was always so happy” Niall sniffed, as the four One Direction boys huddled together outside of the church. Louis was silent, Harry had never seen him that way before. Zayn was the one to speak next, as if he had the need to respond. “He made us all happy.” He whispered softly, all four of them nodded along to the truthful words that were just spilled out from Zayn’s lips. Harry felt as though his whole body would explode, it’s not like he didn’t agree, because he did, how could he not? Liam was definitely the gleeful one of the bunch, with Louis and Niall not far behind him. The sounds of Liam’s sisters wailing, and Danielle breaking down were enough to send him over the edge, before he knew what he was doing, he was wriggled out of the grasp of both Niall and Zayn, and was running away.

He didn’t stop running until he could barely see the church, he knelt down on the grass beside an old willow tree that was dancing in the breeze, he buried his face inside his large hands and sobbed, his cries came from the depth of his soul, his whole upper body shook as the sobs bellowed from his stomach upward. He hadn’t even heard the footsteps, or seen the person who had knelt down in front of him. A pair of small hands rested on his shoulders, he took a while before finally looking up into the hazel eyes of Eleanor. She handed him a tissues, which he gratefully took from her.

“It’s okay to cry Harry, you don’t have to hide.” She told him with a sweet smile. He nodded, unable to say any words, or at least none that would come out right. She crawled over to sit down beside of him, her dress neatly flowing against the grass. “He had a great life.” She spoke again, he didn’t know if she was expecting an answer, so he merely nodded as his response. It was weird, he hardly talked to her anymore, it’s not like they were entirely tight in the first place, but still it seemed a little weird to him that she was suddenly miss comfort. When her fingers wrapped around his, he let out a tired sigh, he didn’t deserve her kindness but there she was to give it to him anyway. Louis would probably not have been impressed; it was his girlfriend talking to his not so best friend, when she would probably be better off talking with him instead.

“You will see him again, I know you will. Do you know that Harry?” She asked, and this time he knew she wanted an answer, she was never pushy, he knew that. So he looked down at their hands before taking another deep breath. “I don’t think I will El.” He answered truthfully, just seconds before he broke down into a million unfixable pieces.

Tears fell down his face as he stepped out of his shower, and slipped his boxers back up over his legs. Why was everybody being so nice to him? Every day a new long lost friend would text, email or call him. He wouldn’t answer of course, not believing that he deserved one second of it, but of course he read through each and every single message.

It scared him that everyone assumed that he couldn’t handle it, were they suspicious? Was that what this was? He was so clouded with thoughts that he literally jumped into the air when he saw who was sitting on his bed. “The hell are you doing here?” He asked her, covering his chest with his arms. She pursed her lips, taking a breath before answering. “H(air)ry you called me.” Taylor told him with a sympathetic expression. Flashes shot through his mind, trying to source the memory of when he would be stupid enough to call her of all people.

“Tayyyyyy!” He slurred into his phone, he had downed more alcohol than he had ever consumed in one sitting, he was sitting on the grass out front of his favourite bar, he had no logical accountability, which explained why he would have done such a thing. Back then he couldn’t even remember his name, let alone think about the consequences.

“Well I take it back, off you hop.” He said sweetly, not wanting to sound rude, she was very sensitive when it came to word choices and tones. She looked up at him with those stupid sappy eyes and he kind of felt bad for her, she was only there because he called, because he was obviously hurting.

“H(air)ry, look at you. I can’t leave you like this.” She scoffed, jumping off the bed and making him lay down. “I will make you a cup of coffee, don’t worry about a thing okay? I’ll look after you.” In all seriousness he was too tired to protest, too sick of everything to turn her away. If she wanted to help him he didn’t have any energy to disagree. “That would be great, thanks Taylor.” She leant over to press a sticky red kiss against his heated forehead. “You aren’t drinking tonight.” She told him before bounding down his hallway.

He rolled over to grab his phone, normally he would text Louis, and they would have a laugh over something like this, but he still hadn’t returned his call. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked at the blank screen. Taylor was back, Liam was gone and Louis still didn’t want to talk to him, maybe this was what he deserved? Maybe this was happening for a reason, he laughed at the thought of Liam sitting up in heaven laughing at the turn of events, in stitches over the Taylor situation. He just hoped Liam had room for forgiveness in that huge cheerful heart of his, because that’s something that he needed, whether or not he thought he deserved it. 

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