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it’s been four months and louis’ still living out the back of his car. it’s run down, and half rusted, always spluttering into action and puffing out smoke. louis always gets looks, but it’s his baby and he doesn’t care what people think. it’s a thing one direction taught him. and, the old girl’s got him through lots and the seats don’t complain when his still lit, half used cigarettes fall into them.
he’s busy not really doing anything in particular. he drives along deserted roads and sleeps in truck stops or crappy motels, ripped leather jacket upon his shoulders and dented aviators upon his nose. he pretends when he wakes up in the backseat of clarence or between the rough sheets he’s not cold and alone. he pretends he doesn’t miss the deep, sleep wrecked voice murmuring stupid things in his ears at some godforsaken time in the early hours of the day. there’s nothing to miss, he tells himself, but he’s not really sure he’s not a liar. not sure he doesn’t believe himself.
he meets so many people, happy and sad, upset and angry, lost and wild but everyone has a purpose of some kind, and that makes the melancholy set in. he just travels and travels like he’s running away, and the more he does it the more it feels like that’s the truth. and, he wishes he was strong enough to turn back and knock on liam’s door, but he knows it won’t be liam that answers, it’ll be his beautiful, amazing girlfriend that liam loves with his whole heart and louis can’t face that. he can’t face that he knows she’ll be showing now and so he runs, runs into the sunset and lives in small pleasures and strange places.
he smiles his way through odd jobs, and thanks his credit card and gets lost in people he never thought he’d be friends with. they’re more harry’s type, louis notes, as someone lights up and someone else passes him the half empty crappy vodka bottle. he meets the incorrigible nick grimshaw in his travels, and with more tattoos than he can count and a bag of lost dreams he finds it’s easier to talk to nick now. they hit it off, although both of them are not sure if they hate each other or love each other. and nick talks to clarence like she’s his lover, which louis finds completely odd, and nick doesn’t stop no matter how many times louis says his car is a girl. nick says the old girl needs some sweet talking, and louis just passes over the half smoked cigarette.
they don’t talk about their lives before. louis doesn’t mention one direction and it’s fall apart, and nick doesn’t either. they don’t discuss radio one, don’t even turn on the radio, just put in some of nick’s old, scratched mixes on cd and sing loudly and badly to them on the empty roads in the middle of the night. they share the back seat when they can’t get grubby motel, and nick complains for hours the next day about his back and louis snorts because he had a great sleep. they insult each other like they’re getting paid to, and sometimes they part ways, but always find each other again, windows down and nick’s feet up on clarence’s dashboard.
nick’s the one that finds the bolton shirt in clarence’s boot and louis snatches it out of nick’s hands and glares. it brings back stupid memories and makes louis’ throat choke up and he tries not to cry but when nick curls him up in those long, gangly arms, it’s so hard not to. nick doesn’t ask what happened, doesn’t ask what the shirt means and for that louis is thankful. he puts on the shirt, later when they stop off to get greasy trucker food, and it’s far too big, hanging of louis’ shoulder. nick says it looks good and an old lady with a walking stick gives them a funny look. if louis closes his eyes and breathes in he thinks he can just catch a whiff of liam’s cologne.
they shotgun later, and louis’ lips catch on the roughness of nick’s, fingers digging into clarence’s ruined leather seating. trails of smoke curl out between their lips and louis’ body and hands in nick’s hair push nick over. they forget about the pot and it burns the fluffy floor mats when it slips off of nick’s lap to be replaced with boy. louis refuses to take off the bolton shirt when nick’s long fingers stroke up over his hips and nick doesn’t mind. nick’s rough in ways that liam never was, but he’s gentle too. firm and gentle and knows what he’s doing, and calm. he kisses louis like he’s everything as he fucks into him, hands rubbing in between louis and the bolton shirt. and when they lay along clarence’s back seat, minds hazy and lips nipping playfully at one another louis thinks he could probably fall hopelessly in love with nick.
things don’t last forever though, louis knows that all too well, and nick gets dropped off just a week later at some indie music festival. louis plans to stay, but then his crappy old mobile rings, and nick sees the butterflies before louis realises they’re there. somewhere in him louis wants nick to complain that he’s leaving, but nick smiles a sad, world worn smile and louis feels like he’s doing this for nick, just as much as he is for himself. so, louis packs clarence up and nick flatters the old girl silly, and louis rolls his eyes but lets him. they kiss goodbye, long and languid and louis knows it’ll linger on his lips for years and makes promises with it to come back soon.
louis leaves nick in standing in the mud, hair falling out his quiff and nips on his bottom lip and louis doesn’t know if he’s really ever going to come back. this thing with liam needs to be sorted out and he scrolls through his mobile to save the unknown number that rung as zayn into it.
**
it’s been four months and liam likes to pretend he doesn’t care. he’s got a beautiful girlfriend with a rounded stomach, and she glows like a lantern in the pitch black. liam’s never been all that great with written words, so he’s got to stick with that metaphor.
he’s busy, so it keeps his mind occupied, but when he tries to sleep it’s there. creeping up from the depths of his thoughts, dredging themselves up. he likes to pretend that when his mind is all hazy with sleep as he wakes up and pulls the body in his arms closer her knows it’s danielle. likes to pretend it’s not louis that he murmurs morning baby to, and pretends that danielle doesn’t say he only calls her baby in the mornings. it’s only little things though, so he stuffs them back into his mind and pretends he doesn’t know them, doesn’t hear them.
he sets photos of the lads up on his mantel piece, next to ones of danielle, and smiles at memories because they’re so cemented in him. he says good morning to each and every one of the lads as he goes to get breakfast before his morning run, but louis only gets a simple hello lou, I hope you’re safe and well because anything else liam wants to say catches in his throat. he shouldn’t feel those things, so he tries not to, and in time louis doesn’t even get a hello. he doesn’t know where louis is, and he knows it’s his fault; he loves danielle, he doesn’t need to have regret and pain in his stomach from blue eyes and a childish smile.
sometimes, niall calls him up and tells him about his time in LA or wherever niall is now, doing sound checks for some band that liam’s never heard of before. niall assures him they’re well famous and that he misses everyone and is sick of being asked when one direction will do a reunion tour or get back together. liam’s not sure that’ll ever happen. he asks after zayn and harry, and liam tells stories of the music they’re making and about how hard it is to be their manager. niall asks after danielle and the baby too, if they know the gender and how long and if they’re getting married and liam answers all this things with his usual enthusiasm and niall never once mentions louis singularly. he ends the phone call quickly with something about a sound check and liam sits with the phone for minutes afterwards wishing.
danielle gets bigger, and she complains about her ankles and her back and liam buys foods from all over, expensive things and actually has a beer when zayn comes over to discuss album titles for his and harry’s new indie band cd. harry brings graham crackers because apparently he’s just flown over to somewhere in america to see niall for a little while, and they chastise him for disappearing for so long. danielle eats most of them anyway, and zayn gets upset that everyone thinks zap! pow! is not a good album title. he claims that it will spark interest because all the fan girls will come up with some ridiculous conspiracy theory about it and then harry argues that any they could label it after any of their tattoos. it starts up an angry conversation and to liam this almost feels like home, like before everything.
when danielle leaves the couch and half a graham cracker, harry stops the ridiculous conversation and leans forwards, resting his elbows upon his upper legs and whispers, “I talked to louis.”
“what?” liam feels his mouth go dry and he’s not sure he wants to hear it at all, he wants to forget and pretend and why won’t anyone let him live in this not quite perfect world he’s made for himself, why can’t people just leave problems broken when they’re never going to be glued back together?
“well,” harry continues, Ii didn’t really talk talk to louis, he’s with grimmy and I talked to grimmy. but grimmy says he’s good and okay and still pretty.”
“wait,” zayn wiggles his eyebrows and leans forward too, “like with grimmy or with grimmy.” and then immediately regrets what he says as soon as he feels liam flinch beside him.
i don’t know, i don’t think they like each other enough, but grimmy’s had this crush on lou like...” and harry trails off when he sees liam’s face and quickly tries to cover what he’s said, “like never. they’re far too similar to be anything more without killing each other.”
“good save,” liam mumbles and gets up to take the empty beer bottles to the kitchen, and zayn gets up to use the loo. harry has the decency to sit there and look ashamed, whilst liam tries to get the thoughts of long, pretty nick grimshaw curling around louis and kissing him and probably the two of them getting drunk together. the bottles get dropped into a recycling container, and the loud clink of glass upon glass echoes liam’s brain and just for a second liam lets himself think about all the things he’s done wrong, how much of a coward he’s been until zayn’s yelling that he has to leave right now. liam comes out of the kitchen, but zayn’s already out the door, running down the street and trying to pull his phone of his ridiculously tight pants.
“what’s up with him?” liam asks, and harry looks just as confused but gets up also and shrugs, side stepping liam past the couch and backs towards the front door.
“I think he heard something he shouldn’t have.” harry says before he’s running out the door after zayn, yelling and liam wonders what’s up. he thinks about following them, but danielle calls out, so he just locks up and heads up to bed with her to sleep. he doesn’t really sleep though, there’s too much on his mind and he lies awake, staring at the ceiling letting himself wish just for once that it was louis next to him. he rolls over and gets a face full of danielle’s curls and thinks that this is okay, it really is.
**
zayn pats clarence on the top of her rusty roof when she pulls up into his garage. when louis gets out of her, leather jacket loose around his shoulder, zayn wraps him up in a giant hug. louis sinks into it, and zayn feels big in louis’arms, bigger than the skinny guy ever used to feel, but the look on zayn’s face tells louis that’s not the case.it’s not that zayn is bigger, it’s that louis is smaller now. but he doesn’t make a comment about louis not eating properly, and that’s just fine by louis.
“we’ve missed you mate.” he says instead and leads louis into his flat and louis smiles back, resting his head upon zayn’s shoulder just to remember what that feels like.
“I wasn’t really gone at all.” louis replies and that’s all that is said on the matter.
zayn makes louis scrambled eggs on toast and louis picks at them, spreading the eggy goodness around his plate. they don’t speak, although it's everything that zayn wants to do, and pretty much everything louis doesn't. he feels like he's made a mistake coming here, and his mind is yelling at him to get back into clarence and drive, run and run and run. maybe he should go back to nick, maybe he should just travel until there's nowhere left to travel, but it's better if he’s anywhere but here.
"are you sure?" he breaks the silence with, and zayn stares at louis with a completely hopeless look in his eyes. louis swallows and looks away, a tear curving down his cheek, "why did you have to tell me? have you told liam? couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"
"so, you were happy, were you?" zayn asks, biting his lip, "with no home and no purpose and getting high or drunk or whatever else it is that you do in those times? because you don't look all that happy lou. you look tired and worn out and like something's hounding at your heels. I just want you to be happy, and I think you need closure."
"I am happy." louis says, and it's meant to just get zayn off his back but as soon as he says it he knows it's the truth. he was, he is happy with nick and clarence and his smoke covered leather jacket and far too many shots of vodka. "I'm the happiest i can ever be and this just opens old, painful, barely healed the first time around wounds. because I'm nothing, not to liam."
"don't say that." zayn argues, "lou, don't say that, it's not true at all. liam loves you. he does, I swear."
"he's a coward and he threw everything I gave to him, he threw me away for safety and comfort and now you're telling me that safety and comfort is kind of all a lie." louis bites at his lip, hands fisted angrily and zayn looks so guilty and confused it causes louis to take a deep breath and turn away. "I don't think you understand how much I loved him. I loved him with everything I had, everything about me was for him. and then, he turned around knowing how I felt and choose danielle and threw everything of me back at me broken and used because I'm not good enough. just, don't tell me that everything he choose instead of me was not even his to choose and he wasted me."
"I thought you needed to know." zayn says and louis feels his shoulders droop and pushes his disgusting congealed scrambled eggs on toast away and heads upstairs without a word.
he curls up on the beige coloured guest bedroom quilt and toes off his shoes before the tears start down his cheeks, rushing over silently, and he hugs at the stupid, lumpy pillow. the tears soak into the material, and louis' fingers cramp and he feels so small and unimportant and useless. because, he’s really nothing, a mistake in the life of liam payne and everything that was supposed to be better than him in every way isn’t even something that belongs to liam. a tiny whimper escapes his throat, and the tears rush faster, choking him up and nipping at his thoughts and he fumbles at his phone to ring the only other number in it other than zayn's.
nick answers after three rings, and he listens as louis sobs over the phone, not really understanding a word. but, he murmurs stupid things that don't make any sense back and louis chokes on gasps of indigence and poorly smothered laughs. nick says about some crappy indie band that's obsessed with him and how a member followed him into the toilet and louis laughs at the thought of nick's indigent squawk whilst he’s got his dick out. he's sure the stories are a lie, nick's stories usually are, but he's still the same old nick and louis is thankful of that. nick mumbles something that sounds a bit like I miss you when he hangs up and louis pretends he doesn't hear it and it's the best he's felt pretending about something in a long time.
zayn doesn’t bring liam up again, and louis is fine with that. they spend lots time in the recording studio, harry joining in when zayn wants to go over a couple of their songs and louis struck by nostalgia and disappears to record his own stuff. no one stops him, and the familiar face of greg james records him doing covers of ed sheeran and the fray. he sings until his voice aches just a little, sings until he tires himself out. and when he’s not looking greg makes copies of the songs he sings whilst zayn and harry are finishing up and gives them to the two lads. they listen to louis’ voice, matured even more through smoking and alcohol, dancing over the words for hours, unbeknown to louis.
when harry and zayn release the album, they name it one way home and it contains a bonus track that neither of them sing. louis flushes when he finds out his voice is on the album and it’s totally not in cheerful federation’s genre, but as he listens to his voice croak out the vague dedication he feels the corners of his mouth curl up. he wonders if nick will hear it, assumes ed has too and hopes that he hasn’t ruined the song. the internet explodes when they see his name on the back of the album and hear his voice, and he smiles at that and tweets a couple of things to show people he’s still alive, still kicking; he hasn’t OD’ed yet. millions of people try and guess who the song’s for, and louis has fun leading them on and giving even more vague clues.
the home phone at zayn’s rings one time, when louis’ all by himself and he lets it ring out. the person leaves a message, and louis listens to it because he’s nosy and rude and then he wishes severely that he hadn’t. when zayn comes home with harry in tow, laughing and just a little more than drunk he finds louis curled up under the coffee table, tears drying on his face and clutching a ratty old mobile phone making distressed noises. the battery is dead, and harry plugs it into its charger and zayn listens to the message on his answering machine. liam’s voice rings out loud and angry, demanding to know why louis is on the album and why they didn’t tell him and other profanities that he didn’t know liam knew and he’s so sorry he left louis alone with this.
the next morning none of the three don’t mention anything, and louis says that nick says hi and harry wiggles his eyebrows. louis finishes half his eggs on toast and zayn feels triumphant like he’s actually done something right in bringing louis back into everything. harry gives him a look like he knows what zayn is thinking and really, it’s just eggs. cheerful federation have a signing, but louis decides not to go and zayn makes him promise all sort of stupid things because apparently louis can’t look after himself any more. or, maybe like louis hasn’t been looking after himself for months on end and a dirty hipster too.
louis doesn’t listen to a word zayn says anyway, and a long, boring half an hour later he gets out the house, locks it up and slips into clarence, patting her bonnet as he walks past. he flatters her silly, calling her darling and love like nick does, and he feels so much better with what he’s about to do. he gets out an old road directory, which is probably incorrect now, and finds the road of the address he swiped from zayn’s address book and he sets off, clarence chugging away. he ends up at such a suburban house with a picket fence and he sits in clarence for several minutes just staring at it. when the white door offers no explanation louis gets out the car and closes clarence’s door with a loud bang. the walk up to the front is the most nerve wracking louis has had in a long time and he rings the doorbell urgently. his stomach disappears when the door opens.
“louis,” liam says like the name alone is just everything and louis knows, oh how he knows, this is going to be hard, but then he’s feeling something that he’s wanted to in a long and maybe this is why zayn called him, “I missed you.”
louis stands there, silent, with a panicked look upon his face before he clears his throat long and sharp, “actually, I wasn’t excepting you to answer the door.” he says quietly and then he looks up and the words just come tumbling out, “I was expecting danielle and her round stomach and then I could have driven straight back to nick and we could have kept running and running and running until there’s nowhere left to run to. and then, we’d get drunk and smoke pot and pretend everything’s alright in paradise.”
“I have missed you.” liam says urgently, insistently and louis laughs, he downright laughs in liam’s face because liam doesn’t get to be the one that misses anyone. louis’ not the one that threw a person out because they didn’t fit some world inside his mind that he created before he knew what the world was actually like. liam did. so, liam doesn’t get to miss anyone. and maybe this is indeed why zayn called him; closure.
“you didn’t.” louis says and it feels good to get this out, “I loved you more than anything, more than i’ve ever loved anyone and you found out your ex was pregnant and you turned around and told me that I wasn’t good enough, I didn’t fit the dream and then got upset and blamed me for breaking up one direction. you didn’t miss me because you’re not allowed to.”
“i’m sorry.” liam says pathetically, like he’s a puppy or something and louis knows that face and he almost crumples and takes the words, but he’s far too bitter for that now.
“a lot of people are sorry.” louis remarks casually, like this isn’t affecting him, but it is and a tear trickles silently down his cheek, “but that doesn’t really mean much, you know. things still happened and I’m still living out the back of clarence with dirty hipsters and you’re still living in respectable land with a girlfriend and a baby on the way. it doesn’t change things.”
“if it’s any consolation,” liam replies carefully, “i wish it could. i wish i could turn back time and work out some way that I never hurt you and things would be okay.”
“you’d always pick danielle over me,” louis shrugs and he can see in liam’s face that liam knows that is in fact, true, “it doesn’t even matter okay, because I’m probably never really going to be over this, never going to stop hurting and that’s fine because I’m used to it now. I just came back because zayn rang me, and I hated him for it but, you know what? i’m glad now. i’m happy he did because this feels great.”
“not for me.” liam murmurs, and he looks like he’s about to cry and louis is sorry about that, he really is, he doesn’t want liam to hurt, not ever, but another part of him is pleased in a terrible twisted way and louis thinks nick’s rubbed off on him far too much.
“i don’t need you,” louis says, “not anymore. and you know, i heard the message you left on zayn’s phone and i just really want you to know that the song isn’t directed at you. i didn’t sing it for you. i mean, you could think that i suppose, but i didn’t think of you once whilst i sang that,”
“i hope you and whoever it’s for are happy,” liam says and louis remembers for a second why he loves liam so much, why he loved liam so much and reaches up on his tiptoes to plant a small, chaste kiss to liam’s lips.
“as happy as we ever could be,” louis smiles, and he thinks maybe it wasn’t that he could possibly fall hopelessly in love, it was just that this was holding it all back like a damn in a river, “i just know you and danielle are going to be great parents.”
“thank you louis,” liam’s voice is small and louis doesn’t really know what closure feels like but this is probably it, “you will visit, right? come and see us every once in a while?”
“probably not.” louis grins and swivels on his heel to dart back down the pathway to clarence, but stops half way and turns back to liam, “i hope you know that the baby isn’t actually yours.” and carries on before he can even see liam’s reaction. it’s terrible of him, but louis can’t help but grin because he feels free in a way he hasn’t in such a long time.
he drives around for hours, blindly and gets stuff in traffic and yells at passers-by until he gets exhausted and parks on some stupidly named street. he curls his head over the steering wheel and brackets his head with his arms and cries. he cries until he can’t cry anymore, cries until his throat is raw and his sinuses painful. the choked off sobs turning into horrid laughter and he laughs with his dry throat and digs his fingers into the palms of his hands. this hurts in ways that louis will probably always remember, but he feels like he can move on now.
**
louis leaves a note on the kitchen table to explain how he’s gone and how cheerful federation have every right to use any other songs that greg gave to them, maybe they could mix it. he leaves a bundle of money too, because he feels like he owes zayn and harry something and asks where niall was because it would have been nice to see him too. he buys a new phone and a new sim and texts nick to tell him about the new number. he put’s zayn’s in for good measure, but doesn’t say that he’s changed and dumps the old mobile in a bin at some strange truck shop and puts too much vinegar on his chips.
it starts raining when louis’ halfway to his destination, but he doesn’t mind much. clarence complains a little because louis really needs to change her wiper blades, but she doesn’t mind too much and there’s not any cars on the road so it doesn’t matter really. clarence’s protests also about the wet underneath her tires, so louis slows down, despite how much more time it will tack onto his journey. he wants to get there in one piece, so he better drive to conditions. he’d hardly like to die when he’s got something so important to tell.
the chips are long gone and his stomach is rumbling when he arrives at his destination and he kind of feels like he’s home. he’s pulling into the car park at some lame music festival when the loud speakers announce that some bands that couldn’t make it would have their music played now. louis smiles, because he’s sure cheerful federation will be played, but he’s shocked when his voice comes up over the loud speakers.
“this is for a friend of mine, he’s everything to me and i feel like ed sheeran captured him and how we interact in just one single song with limited lyrics. i’m louis tomlinson and here’s my cover of where we land.”
“louis?” a voice yells over the rain and the lyrics and louis idiotically tries to rub at the windscreen to see through the droplets at the person. that obviously doesn’t work and louis opens clarence’s door and steps out into the mud. he looks around, and shelters his eyes and spots a tall, gangly familiar body.
“nick,” he breaths and it’s barely a heartbeat before he’s racing over to where nick is, ugly wellingtons on, covered in mud, soaking to the bone in this awful rain. nick looks like he wants to run to louis too, but he’s stuck in the mud and louis is glad he doesn’t because they’ll both regret this in the future and swear black and blue it never actually happened.
“louis.” nick smiles when louis barrels into him and they fall into the mud with a loud splat noise, and they laugh because it’s so ridiculous and cheesy and louis remembers that nick has freckles and that’s probably the best thing ever. he kisses a couple to make sure they’re real.
“do i love you? do i hate you? i can’t make up my mind,” louis sings to his voice up on the speakers and nick rolls his eyes dramatically but smiles and joins in with the next lines, “so let’s free fall and see where we land.”
later louis will tell all nick’s hipster friends that nick’s a romantic at heart and kissed him in the rain and nick will let him because he’s not sure he wants anyone to know about how louis smeared mud in his hair and it escalated from there.