8 Tapes [l.t]

"They're eight tapes, each one teaching me a different lesson." © Meagan [Cover made by Qveendom]


6. Tape 5 // Hope

[n/a: finally. long chapter for the almost year wait for you. x]


"Everyone needs to have a date with Hope."


11:01 PM


 Stepping off the train, the crisp air bites my skin, reminding me that I should've brought a heavier sweatshirt, instead of this paper thin one that is draping over my shoulders.

 But that isn't the problem, the problem is I need to find this club, Billy and her girlfriend, Jesse... and maybe even Harry, in this case. No I need to find Harry, he would know why all this shit happened, at least I hope he does.

I pull out the slip of paper from my jean pocket, the is paper crumbled.

 7237 City Rd. ____ - the club

 7237 City Rd. ____ - the club. Okay, you've got this, Kian. Just listen to another tape and relax. I release the last tape for the music player and slide in tape four. Hovering over the play button, I take a long deep breath, closing my heavy eyes, and add pressure to the play button. Here we go again.

   Everyone has found out about JC by now, but never found out about me taking part in the crime.

  Oh Louis, you did a lot of damage.

  But that's not the worst part. Everyone was putting pity on me for my 'girlfriend' going to jail. They said I deserve someone better than a rotten trouble-maker, but deep down I known it was the other around. I just never had the balls to admit it, till now where it can't hurt me, but it can hurt you - that's how suicide works. I'm in peace and you're left to pick up the pieces. I'm selfish, I know, but at least you will listen as to why I'm selfish now.

I'll listen to you, dead or alive. Maybe I should have told you that, maybe then you would have stayed.

 Whenever anyone brings up JC, all I think of is her face when she saw the police lights. The fear spreading like a virus, the tears, the panic. Yet, I ran, I ran without her. I could have grabbed her wrist or something to pull her along, but I just thought about myself. How selfish.


My feet are moving faster than my brain. My feet dragging me down a crowded street. Blood rushes to my cheeks and my knees wobble as I absorb the whole scene. They're people almost half naked, even knowing that it was freezing out. Others are dressed in sequins and glitter and various other shiny fabrics. There are people kissing. Boys kissing boys. Girls kissing girls. Some who reeked of alcohol and others who were breathing out smoke. All being shined on by the colorful buildings' street lights. A feeling of excitement shoots through my veins.

 I begin walking through the crowds, trying not to get in anybodies way, still studying the environment around me. It's bold and bright, just like Louis always said.

 I showered so much that the pores of my skin started to bleed from all the rough scrubbing, yet I still felt filthy.

 It was the weekend and I couldn't start looking for someone new to 'date' until Monday, but at the same time I starting to rethink my whole cover up plan. Soon, I called up Harry. I missed his dazzling eyes and his smell and the feeling of his warmth rubbing off on me when he hugged me, really I just missed him.

 "Harry? This is Louis. I need you," I whispered into the phone, feeling weak and tired since I haven't got a full night of sleep since 'the night'.

 "What's your address. I'll get there as fast as I can." he said, you could hear the worry in his stern voice.

 8801 Pecan Drive. The fourth house on the right. A small, blue, two story house.

  "8801 Pecan Drive. The fourth house on the right. A small, blue, two s-story house." I said, breaking into a heavy sob by the end of the sentence. My throat is burning and my eyesight turned blurry, my chest quickly exhaling and inhaling.

  You told me your address the same exact way.  

 "Baby, love, I'll be right there," Harry said, panic not-so-hidden in his deep voice. "Just keep calm, okay."     

 I walk past a small building called Records n' Stuff. Louis and Harry went here on there first date. And... what was it? Oh yeah, a few buildings down was the club Louis always escaped off too, I think. I hope.

I make my way two structures down, stopping right in front of 'the club'. It's name is The Club. He could never forget the name of the club in the first place.

 The lights were gleaming and the music was pounding, as I slipped out my fake ID. The whole football team has one.

 Harry was pounding on the door about thirty minutes after I called. Swallowing hard, I cracked open the door, thinking: What am I doing? I'm dating a boy. But I soon pushed away the thought, to in love with the boy standing in front of me to actually care.

  Then why did you fucking leave?

  I clutch my hands into fist, getting in The Club's line. The line is short; thank God it's Thursday.

 Harry pushes the door open with force, making me fall backwards, landing on my butt.

 "Lou, baby, are you okay?" Harry said, bending down to engulf me in his arms. I grasp his black leather jacket, digging my head into the crook of his neck. He radiated warmth and safety and smelt like vanilla. And at that moment, I decided that vanilla was new my favorite scent. From then on, whenever I smelt a vanilla candle or a sugar cookie I always thought of him.

 That sounds like love to me, Louis.

 I step forward another step. May be a short line, but it doesn't mean it's going fast; this is going to take forever.

 I breath in his sweet scent, my tears slowing down and I'm no longer sobbing in grief.

 "Love, can you telling me why you are crying?" Harry questioned, while he gently started rocking me back and forward. The last of my tears dried.

 "I did it," I sniffled, looking deeply into his green eyes. Secretly, I wish I could paint the world that color green. A confused look was painted over his face, as he rubbed his large hand up and down my back.

 "Did what?" Harry’s eyes widen.

 I look down, the feeling of dirtiness covering me again, I begin to pick at my skin. Harry lifts my face back up to look him in the eyes with the help of his pointer finger.  

  "Lou, what did you do?" Harry questioned, more serious this time, but you still could hear the affection in his voice.

 "You know JC? JC from school? The one who got arrested weeks ago?" I asked, closing my eyes.

 "Yeah, I do," he say softly, nodding. I could feel his hot breath on my face as he leans in closer.

  "I went painting one day with her and...I"-takes in a sharp breath-"was the other person who was with her when she got arrested, but I ran."

 Tears start to flood from my eyes again out of angst. I felt like I should've not told him, but at the same time, I had to tell someone. I felt better and worst at the same time. It felt bittersweet.

 This line is taking forever. I'm going to be in my grave by the time I get to the door.

 I tap my foot, impatiently.

  Hurry the fuck up... please.

 "Oh baby," Harry shakes his head, his arms wrap tighter around me.

 "I-i'm so sorry," I whimpered into his leather jacket.

 I felt so small, but yet so safe in his arms and to be honest I couldn't ask for anything more.

 Then why did you kill yourself!

 But I didn't deserve feeling so safe.

I stomp my foot hard against the payment out of anger, gaining a few glances from people. Oh fuck off.

Everyone makes mistakes, Louis. Well done things that was wrong. I don't know if this a mistake or not.

 "Oh baby," Harry coos, playing with my messy fringe.

 I smile softly into his hard chest because honestly I didn't know what to do, how else to react. Feeling his long fingers stroking my hair, shaping the strands around into little curls, made my stomach flutter .

 "I have a question though," Harry breathes, "They had shown some of the graffiti on the news and now knowing you painted most of it, I was wondering, does it have any meaning?"

I look with glossy, bloodshot eyes to be meet by a pair of worried full, variant green ones.

  Clearing my throat, while Harry wiped the last few streaming tears down my flushed cheeks, I nod, "Yeah... yeah, it does hold a lot of meaning to me."

 Two people in front of me, thank the lord.

"Can we visit it?" Harry questions, tightening his grip on my torso, "The graffiti."

 "Um... I guess," I say, unsure.

 He gently places me on the ground, standing up, and holding a hand out for me to pull me up. We grab our shoes and coats, heading out the of door in a hurry.

 "Do you know where it is?" I asked Harry with wide, still bloodshot eyes.

 "Yeah, it's not to far from here," Harry grabs my hand to reassure me, starting the engine to the car.

 I nod my head, in agreement, as a smile smirk shape my lips.   

   My hands start to sweat as we get closer towards the artwork I made with JC weeks back.

    I take slow footsteps, brushing my fingertips along the rigged wall tattooed with art work. I take a sharp breath, as the cold air blows against my pale skin that isn't covered with the cotton of my sweatshirt.  

 There I was standing right next to the man I love, with the artwork I painted for him on the other side of me. I choked on air, my air passages closing up, blood rushing to my face making it cherry red.

 I loved a man. A man. We both have dicks. This is not allowed. But since when have I ever followed the rules?

You just said you didn't care that you loved a man. I mean, but other people do.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, facing the wall of art, while I was still trying to stomach the gay thing.

 You loved him, Louis. Fucking accept it or not, you fucking loved him. So why did you leave him?

 "Louis?" Harry asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah," I say, scared of what he is going to say. I roll back and forward of my feet, nervously.

"Can you tell me the story behind some of this?" He says, directing his fingers towards the art.

 I nod, slowly, already starting to rethink my decision.  

 Stepping forward, I run my finger over the jagged surface, letting the bumps rip into my skin, stopping on the tape. My vocal string tighten, my mouth feels dry, I freeze.

Harry wraps his pinkie finger around my shaky one, for support. I look up seeing a wide smile on his lips, I return one back.

I run my finger further, landing on 'The Outsiders', written in black.

"'The Outsiders' is your favorite movie." I claim, shyly. My fingers lead itself over the pair of green eyes around by raindrops.

The kiss in the rain.

"The kiss in rain."

I run my finger more, till I hit the 'Love is Love' lettering. My finger is peeling the more I touch the wall, blood threaten to prickle the thin cuts.

 "This is us, our love. I painted it, so everyone can see it, even know one knows." I raise my voice, looking back at Harry, who looks like he is ready to cry.

"Louis." Harry sobs, lifting his hands to my flushed face. "I love you so much." He says, tears running down his red cheeks, pulling me into a protective hug. One that lingers on you forever.

"I love you so much more." I mumble into his chest, water forming in the side of my eyes.

God dammit, you two were so in love. Why did you fucking leave that?

 Hope. That was her name.

Who the fuck is that? Another cover up? I never about this one.

One person from the door, thank the lord. What has it been? Years?

 She was the feeling in the back of brain making me get up in the morning and face my problems.

 She taught me to always believe. To have hope.

 Everyone needs a date with Hope.

 Next type please.

  "Card please." The broad bouncer demanded.

  I hand him my fake I.D., trying to keep my cool.

 But the pride is washed over with a wave of terror when his facial expression harden.

"This card is in vivid, step aside." He says, coldly, looking ahead.

 My shoulder sag in disappointment, too tired to fight with him and knowing he probably could flatten me into a pancake, I think I made the decision. Looking at him with sad eyes, I take the card back, tucking it in my jeans, and drag my feet to lead me out of line.

That was useless. That probably wasn't even the club Louis always visited anyways.  

 I spot a street bench, out in front of Records n' Stuff, deciding it be a good place to stop and think for a moment.

I hopped on the last bus of the night earlier, so I'm screwed till the morning. What was I thinking in the first place? Just run off too the city, listening to tapes from my dead best friend about him using girls to cover up his real gay relationship. You're a fucking idiot, Kian.  

 The weight of my body is finally taken off my feet once I sit on the cold metal bench. In defeat, I lean back on the metal.  

Am I going to sleep here too? Well I don't have enough money to buy a hotel room. Idiot.

 I look down at the box in my hands, realizing the headphones are still over my ears.

 I mean I got time to kill, so I open the Walkman and popped in the next tape.

 "Kian?" A raspy voice says.

 I haven't pressed play yet. Blood rushes to my cheeks, my ears start stinging due to the cold temperature, and my heart beating out of my chest, as I slowly turn my head around. I jerk off my headphones, so the sounds of the cars and street lights are no longer muffed.


  "Hello?" I scream, my throat strained and exhausted, even know I haven't said much of anything the past few hours.  

  A lanky man closes the door to Records n' Stuff. His piercing green eyes burning holes in my head; they're memorizing. Must be like Harry's, since Louis always talk about his forest green eyes.

 "Who are you?" I question, scared that he knows my name, knowing I never meet him before.

  His dimples framing his crooked smile, while he pushes back a few curls that fell into his face.

  "My name is Harry. Harry Styles."





















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