Like Knives
You're No Good For Me
It's all shit, the lot of it," Niall hissed, squirming in his seat while a lady fussed with his hair.
"Don’t get so worked up. It's just the tabloids." Liam wasn't trying to play the father figure at the moment. He was just put out with Niall's constant complaints. His Irish friend seemed to be the most upset about the recent events and rumors.
"They're makin' him out to be some dirty twat! It's not right." The flimsy magazine in Niall's hands was suffering his wrath until Liam snatched it form his hands. Niall didn't meet his friend's harsh gaze, instead, taking an angry night out of the pre-wrapped ham sandwich. Food normal felt familiar and right in his mouth, but now it just made him sick. He forced the plush bread and contents in between down his throat. "I miss Harry is all."
At the mention of his name, Louis was roused from his somnolent trance. His pungent blue eyes met those of the boys across the room. "We all miss him, but he clearly doesn't care for us, so don't waste your energy." Louis' advice didn't apply to himself in anyway because if it did, he'd be a hypocrite. The two boys hardly took in his meaningless words.
"Lou's right," Zayn piped up, zipping his leather jacket halfway. Liam gave the dark-haired boy a tight smile, tossing the gossip magazine in the trash.
Only ten more minutes were to pass before the boys went out for another talk show interview. None of them were ready for the questions and accusations, but it had to be done. Everyone had to know they were continuing on without Harry.
x
The evening was young, promising bountiful opportunities and adventures for the youth. Holly absently rearranged seashell soaps. Her nose was permanently scrunched from the mixed aroma of lavender and jasmine. The oxford flats on her feet had begun to rub uncomfortably on her heels an hour ago; about the same time her headache from the flowery scents had presented itself. From the biggest stall down the line of private toilets, a couple of girls giggled and cursed after contents of a makeup bag clattered against the tile. Holly rolled her eyes at the tiny girl who burst from the gray stall to retrieve her rolling lipstick.
Holly didn't have much patience for the girls who came teetering into the bathroom. Simply because she was jealous of them and not too fond of her job. Stamping wrists, catching crowd-surfers, controlling the lights--anything would've been better than selling toiletries in the women's bathroom. Originally, Holly had been looking for apprenticeship under the event manager--the brother of a friend from college. She should have known she'd have to work her way up to the top like everyone else who didn't already have experience. She just couldn't help being hopeful.
The bathroom grew quiet for the third time that night, allowing the outside festivities to leak through the walls. Holly closed her eyes, imagining that she was in the crowd. Kiersten, her friend, jumped wildly with Holly, not caring that they didn't know the band or any of the lyrics. The two girls always made the best of their situations. Holly could dream; she hadn't gone to a show with Kiersten in over five months. Who knew boyfriends kept you sobusy you had hardly any time for friends?
Dramatically, someone rushed in with record speed, shattering Holly's peace with her sobbing. With only a glimpse of the girl's burgundy pants, Holly was surprised. Snotty sniffling and the poor girl's heaves bounced off the tiled walls and hit Holly full force. There were only two options: ignore the girl or offer comfort, which wasn't necessarily a requirement of her job, but Holly felt obligated as a girl to show her concern. Hesitantly, Holly called out a soft "are you okay?" only to receive more hideous sobs. Obviously the girl wasn't okay at all, but Holly didn't know the appropriate thing to say. She wasn't the comforting type or the person who just knew the right thing to say.
The heavy door opened considerably slower this time, catching Holly's attention. Automatically, she braced herself for an angry or maybe apologetic friend to come in for the crying girl. Frantic mossy eyes captured hers, the rugged boy pressing a finger to his slightly chapped lips. His hair, springy and untamable, was damp and stuck to his forehead, swirling over his ears and around his neck. Holly, bewildered, dramatically gestured for him to get out, but the stranger promptly ignored her. Rolling up the sleeves of his too-long flannel, he pulled the Calla lilies from their pink water-filled vase on the counter.
Holly didn't know the extent of what to do if a boy were to come into the women's bathroom. She'd only been told to tell them to leave, so she was a bit unsure of what to do about the bum who flashed an apologetic smile. She gave him a stern look of which he disregarded. He approached the stall that harbored the same girl who currently was choking on her tears. He knocked on the door, his deep voice pleading for her to stop crying and come out.
"Go away, you incompetent douchebag!"
Too tired to intervene, Holly went back to the soaps: coral then yellow then teal. She'd placed them all almost flawlessly by each of the three sinks when the strange man banged his fists against the stall, eliciting a handful of curse words from his assumed girlfriend. Following his outburst, was his mellifluous voice that silenced the crying girl and quelled Holly's stewing temper. His thick, British slur made his speech almost indecipherable, but his girlfriend seemed to understand him perfectly.
The girl, blotchy and puffy-eyed yet invidious, unlocked the stall and stepped out. She took the dainty flowers from big hands, tucking a lock of her bland hair behind her ear. "Did you mean that, Harry?"
"With all my heart, yeah." Harry kissed the short girl's forehead, his thumb rubbing against the girl's wet cheek. "I won't do it again. I promise."
Holly watched the odd couple leave the bathroom, feeling like a fly on the wall. It never shocked Holly, the kinds of things that occurred in the women's bathroom. Yet, how quickly the girl relented to this 'Harry' guy was beyond her. It was clear he'd really upset her, unless she was melodramatic. Holly couldn't be sure, but nonetheless, she was curious to know what made Harry so special.
"Don’t get so worked up. It's just the tabloids." Liam wasn't trying to play the father figure at the moment. He was just put out with Niall's constant complaints. His Irish friend seemed to be the most upset about the recent events and rumors.
"They're makin' him out to be some dirty twat! It's not right." The flimsy magazine in Niall's hands was suffering his wrath until Liam snatched it form his hands. Niall didn't meet his friend's harsh gaze, instead, taking an angry night out of the pre-wrapped ham sandwich. Food normal felt familiar and right in his mouth, but now it just made him sick. He forced the plush bread and contents in between down his throat. "I miss Harry is all."
At the mention of his name, Louis was roused from his somnolent trance. His pungent blue eyes met those of the boys across the room. "We all miss him, but he clearly doesn't care for us, so don't waste your energy." Louis' advice didn't apply to himself in anyway because if it did, he'd be a hypocrite. The two boys hardly took in his meaningless words.
"Lou's right," Zayn piped up, zipping his leather jacket halfway. Liam gave the dark-haired boy a tight smile, tossing the gossip magazine in the trash.
Only ten more minutes were to pass before the boys went out for another talk show interview. None of them were ready for the questions and accusations, but it had to be done. Everyone had to know they were continuing on without Harry.
x
The evening was young, promising bountiful opportunities and adventures for the youth. Holly absently rearranged seashell soaps. Her nose was permanently scrunched from the mixed aroma of lavender and jasmine. The oxford flats on her feet had begun to rub uncomfortably on her heels an hour ago; about the same time her headache from the flowery scents had presented itself. From the biggest stall down the line of private toilets, a couple of girls giggled and cursed after contents of a makeup bag clattered against the tile. Holly rolled her eyes at the tiny girl who burst from the gray stall to retrieve her rolling lipstick.
Holly didn't have much patience for the girls who came teetering into the bathroom. Simply because she was jealous of them and not too fond of her job. Stamping wrists, catching crowd-surfers, controlling the lights--anything would've been better than selling toiletries in the women's bathroom. Originally, Holly had been looking for apprenticeship under the event manager--the brother of a friend from college. She should have known she'd have to work her way up to the top like everyone else who didn't already have experience. She just couldn't help being hopeful.
The bathroom grew quiet for the third time that night, allowing the outside festivities to leak through the walls. Holly closed her eyes, imagining that she was in the crowd. Kiersten, her friend, jumped wildly with Holly, not caring that they didn't know the band or any of the lyrics. The two girls always made the best of their situations. Holly could dream; she hadn't gone to a show with Kiersten in over five months. Who knew boyfriends kept you sobusy you had hardly any time for friends?
Dramatically, someone rushed in with record speed, shattering Holly's peace with her sobbing. With only a glimpse of the girl's burgundy pants, Holly was surprised. Snotty sniffling and the poor girl's heaves bounced off the tiled walls and hit Holly full force. There were only two options: ignore the girl or offer comfort, which wasn't necessarily a requirement of her job, but Holly felt obligated as a girl to show her concern. Hesitantly, Holly called out a soft "are you okay?" only to receive more hideous sobs. Obviously the girl wasn't okay at all, but Holly didn't know the appropriate thing to say. She wasn't the comforting type or the person who just knew the right thing to say.
The heavy door opened considerably slower this time, catching Holly's attention. Automatically, she braced herself for an angry or maybe apologetic friend to come in for the crying girl. Frantic mossy eyes captured hers, the rugged boy pressing a finger to his slightly chapped lips. His hair, springy and untamable, was damp and stuck to his forehead, swirling over his ears and around his neck. Holly, bewildered, dramatically gestured for him to get out, but the stranger promptly ignored her. Rolling up the sleeves of his too-long flannel, he pulled the Calla lilies from their pink water-filled vase on the counter.
Holly didn't know the extent of what to do if a boy were to come into the women's bathroom. She'd only been told to tell them to leave, so she was a bit unsure of what to do about the bum who flashed an apologetic smile. She gave him a stern look of which he disregarded. He approached the stall that harbored the same girl who currently was choking on her tears. He knocked on the door, his deep voice pleading for her to stop crying and come out.
"Go away, you incompetent douchebag!"
Too tired to intervene, Holly went back to the soaps: coral then yellow then teal. She'd placed them all almost flawlessly by each of the three sinks when the strange man banged his fists against the stall, eliciting a handful of curse words from his assumed girlfriend. Following his outburst, was his mellifluous voice that silenced the crying girl and quelled Holly's stewing temper. His thick, British slur made his speech almost indecipherable, but his girlfriend seemed to understand him perfectly.
The girl, blotchy and puffy-eyed yet invidious, unlocked the stall and stepped out. She took the dainty flowers from big hands, tucking a lock of her bland hair behind her ear. "Did you mean that, Harry?"
"With all my heart, yeah." Harry kissed the short girl's forehead, his thumb rubbing against the girl's wet cheek. "I won't do it again. I promise."
Holly watched the odd couple leave the bathroom, feeling like a fly on the wall. It never shocked Holly, the kinds of things that occurred in the women's bathroom. Yet, how quickly the girl relented to this 'Harry' guy was beyond her. It was clear he'd really upset her, unless she was melodramatic. Holly couldn't be sure, but nonetheless, she was curious to know what made Harry so special.
3/25/13