HURT

My name is Roseanne Martinez,but most people refer to me as Rose or Rosie. I was in love. Actually I still am. He never loved me back though. He was just another popstar,that likes to crush hearts. I should have seen through his perfect reputation. No one ever threw him hate. Even if he broke their hearts,they just pretended it was their fault. I don’t think I can do that. No,I won’t, I cannot! I will make a mess of his facade,I will make a mockery of him! He will not win this game. He picked the wrong player to knock down,now he WILL pay the price. I just wonder how long he will try to stay on top. I will be on top in the end. Or will I? Read on and find out!
A/N: This is sucky,sorry. I personally think the story is actually better. Please read it,it would mean a lot to me!

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8. Sadness Drifting

  After the failed investigation they set me free. They acknowledged that I had motive,  but they also realized there was no way I would ever be able to pull it off. I walked out of the stuffy building and into the cool, damp London air. I needed a new ride, so I rang up Harry.

  "Yes?" He questioned when he picked up, clearly not having seen it was me calling.

  "Come pick me up?" I asked, shoving hands in my jumpers sleeves since it was like an icebox outside.

  "Be right over!" He assured me hastily before he hung up.

  I walked over and sat on a concrete bench, watching the pigeons peck at the ground, searching for stray crumbs. I smiled a bit at all of the memories of me and Louis gallivanting after 'Kevin'. Of course, my heart reminded me that he never truly loved me, so those times were just ruses. 

  The honking of Harry pulling up next to me pulled me out my reverie. I jumped up and scrambled into his steamy Range Rover.

  "Are you okay, did they hurt you?" Harry fired the questions at me rapidly.

  His questions hung in the stillness of the moment, heavy in the tense air. My train of thoughts was only focused on Louis, if he was okay, if they had hurt him. I tried to organize my jumbled thoughts so I could answer the jittery Cheshire boy next to me. I mumbled out an 'I am fine.', but nothing more. I kept my gaze glued to the broadening horizon as I mumbled it.

  The suspense of not knowing Louis' condition was killing me, but I tried not to let it show. Harry kept glancing at me worriedly.

  Finally stating "You don't seem okay."

  I just shrugged in response, to caught in my own thoughts to care about his petty words. He seemed to realize this, because the next ten minutes we spent in dull silence. The car and our voice silent, but my racing mind was not.

  I was nervous to see how he was doing, but I needed to know, and soon. Harry led me in the large double doors, resting his massive hand on the small of my back, for my comfort I would guess. As we walked down the ominous corridor my body stiffened, nerves wanting to freeze and stop as we grew closer and closer to his room. 

  This was a hospital. A place a sadness and crushed dreams; death. Happy endings were rare here, if they even occurred at all.  Back down the hall a bit someone screamed, tearful obscenities following. Harry nudged me forward with his warm hand, the only thing keeping me from having a meltdown.

  

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