Louis couldn't believe what had happened. One minute she had been holding his hand and doing her best, the next she had snatched away and was practically foaming at the mouth, and declared it was over.
Just like that, she threw away all his dreams. All his visions for the future of them talking until the sun up, and her saying good morning, in that sweet, sweet voice at six in the morning, and always having the answer to any mundane problem that popped up in life, like knowing how to take the stains out of his laundry and actually how to work his washing machine. Like knowing how to cook. Sarah had joked about her sister burning soup, but god was she amazing at making breakfast.
It was just for image's sake! The fans didn't need to know the truth, that they'd be long distancing their relationship. That would just add extra pressure on tours, fans not respecting boundaries, even though some didn't respect boundaries to begin with. He hadn't even written their statements, for Christ's sake, it was what his publicists had determined it was "safe" to say! He had explained that to her, hadn't he?
Oh, but it didn't matter now. She was gone. And he was left to clean up the mess. It took two to make a relationship but only one to end things. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He most certainly didn't want to deal with the press.
"Louis! Statement please!"
"Louis, what did she mean by-"
"Louis, is it really over?"
"Louis is this just a publicity stunt-"
He left, fame crushing him, falling down on his head. And all the while the cameras flashed, the camera ran, recording it all. His private humiliation on display for the entire world. Never had he hated his career more. Never had he hated the invisible hand of expectations and promises more. He left. Not to go after her, no. He needed to be alone. At home, where it was quiet.
"How did it go?" asked his chauffeur, trying to make small-talk. Jones shushed him. He felt a stab of gratefulness for the man. He'd buy him twenty packs of oreos to make up for all this...mess.
But his home wasn't quiet. It was bustling with maids and Martha ordering them around as usual to keep the.
"Your carpet is stained beyond repair," she informed him authoritatively. "I recommend throwing it out and purchasing a new one."
Lena knew how to get the stains out, he thought. Out loud he said,
"If that's what you think, then that's what I'll do."
Everything in the house reminded him of her. She had made the walls dance. So had Sarah, god he was going to lose Sarah too, the bubbly little girl! They'd felt like a part of his family in such short time, and it physically hurt now. Eleanor never had felt like this. The room still smelled like Lena's perfume. He sat down on the bed that shared their memories and cried, feeling sorry for himself.
He'd received a text. Several in fact, he hadn't glanced at his phone in the car. He couldn't.
Zayn: Dude, so sorry wtf happened there
Zayn: looks like a misunderstanding, did u talk w/her bout what a press release is
Harry: man u gonna go after her?
Niall: thought u guys were gonna make it sry man wana join me im at the bar vertigo42 get this its a champagne bar u gona come m8?
Liam: u just gonna let her walk away shes leaving 2moro man fite
He sat up. He wasn't going to go drinking with Niall, the last time he had was a disaster. But maybe they were right. Maybe he could try and talk to her. Reason with her. Surely she felt the same way as him. If they just talked, if he could just get across to her, it would all be ok. He ran outside to his chauffeur.
"Can you take me to the Four Seasons, Charlie?" he asked. Jones smiled, and patted him on the back.
"Certainly," said his chauffeur, not questioning why.
After a long, traffic ridden drive, there he was, the fool that he was, heart in his hands, knocking on her door. He waited, and could hear the tell-tale thump, thump, thump of someone approaching. The door opened a crack...and it was Sarah.
"Who is it?" he could hear. Lena. She sounded...drained.
"It's Louis," said Sarah cautiously. She smiled up at him, sadly, with her snaggle-tooth poking out of the side like always.
"My sister is really upset," she whispered to him. "I knew you'd come for her. I saw what happened on the tv."
"Tell him to go away."
"Sorry," whispered Sarah. She slipped him a paper. "I wrote this out just in case." In a louder voice, she said, "Lena says go away," then whispered again, "Bye."
Before he could even register what had happened, the door was shut in his face. He slumped against the doorframe, and opened the piece of paper. In childish writing, he saw,
Lena love you Louis, and I do too.
Home address: The Apartments at Lincoln Avenue...
Phone number: 934-230...
He didn't know how else to react. Lena wouldn't talk to him. He couldn't do much more than accept that. Before this fiasco, he'd planned to go to the airport, to kiss her one last time and see her off safely, but she clearly didn't want to see him or talk to him.
We were a team, he thought sadly. Now we're just broken. He didn't throw out the paper. Some part of him made him fold it into a small piece and tuck it into his jacket pocket.
Numbly, he had his chauffeur drive him home. It was time to give up.