december 12th | 2015
third person point of view

Four boys walk into the same therapy room they were in just a week ago. Each one of them had different stories; addiction, abduction, disapproval, and loneliness. They don't know who the other people joining them during this session are, but they sit down nonetheless, trusting the woman they had confessed their difficulties to.

"Hey boys," she says with a smile, taking out the papers that listed everything that had been recorded for the past four visits. They all greet her quietly, waiting for an explanation of what's going on.

"Why are we all here?" Louis speaks up first, being the most eager for answers to his problem. His meeting was the first time he talked about Corden romantically in years, and he wants him back and his parents and prison badly. In his hand, he clutches the picture that the therapist had asked him to bring on this very date.

"Well," she sighs, "I've heard every single one of your stories, and I can say first hand, that I've been through every single one of your stories."

The therapist looks to Harry first,

"I've loved to a point of addiction," she says to him, "to a point where I was doing worse to what you had been doing."

Louis is next,

"No, I didn't have a mutual lover in high school, but I know exactly what it feels like to have your parents on your back about your schoolwork to a point of obsession."

Her head cranes to Niall,

"As you can see, I'm wearing black jeans, and haven't worn a dress since I was forced to go to banquets for sports in high school. I never wanted to dress like a girl; I wanted to wear button up flannels and jeans all my life. Not wanting to dress like every other boy isn't a crime Niall."

Finally, she reaches out to rub Liam's knee,

"And acceptance amidst my peers has always been one of my number one concerns."

The four boys look at her in awe and she shrugs,

"All four of your stories, meshed into my life. Maybe less traumatizing to an extent, but the same nonetheless. And now here I am, helping each and every one of you. And, I'm alive, healthy, and happy."

"Why are we all here then?"

"Well Niall," she nods, "you're all here to help each other. The only way you're going to get through your problems is support. And I knew I found the perfect group of people when I found the four of you helplessly lost."

The four boys look at each other again, but with a bit more curiosity in their stare.

"Well, go on then. Introduce yourselves and tell us what your problem is."

They look expectantly at each other once again until Niall stands up, talking in a rushed tone,

"I'm Niall and I'm a suicidal cross-dresser."

He sits down quickly, hiding his face and the therapist nods,

"Next?"

"I uh..." Harry stands up, keeping his eyes on the blonde as he speaks, "I'm Harry, and I'm a suicidal imaginary love addict."

He sits down and Louis follows right after,

"I'm Louis Tomlinson, and I'm a suicidal superior-forced genius."

Liam speaks, but doesn't stand,

"I'm Liam, and I'm a suicidal lonely murderer."

The three look at him in panic and the therapist ceases their fear,

"It's not what you think," she says calmly, "if you're willing to listen, there's more to the story than that. And that's why I want you four to confess to each other. You're going to be your own therapists."

"How will that help?"

"I know it will; just trust me. Okay, so I've separated your issues into categories."

She looks to Liam and Harry,

"Liam, Harry, you two have problems that have been affecting you only recently, maybe in the last year or two. This is unlike Louis and Niall, who have been dealing with their issues all their life."

Harry looks to Niall again, seeing him bite his lip harshly. He cocks an eyebrow, wondering what his real deal is. The other three just sit expectantly, waiting for the therapist to continue.

"So, I suggest that when I leave, you find an order to tell each other what happened between each other. I promise, you will find solutions within this situation, and maybe lifelong friends."

She gets up, leaving the clipboard and walking out the door. Eyes stay trained on the floor as the door shuts quietly behind the therapist. The only sound they can hear is the heavy breathing from Harry, who is trying to calm himself down. He isn't sure he wants to tell anyone about what he had stupidly let Levi do to him.

"Hey, you okay mate? Harry, right? Or Liam?" he hears the boy with the fringe-like hair speak out to him, resting his hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to go first...you look anxious."

"I'm always anxious," Harry sighs, "and I'm Harry. The other one is Liam."

"I'm the other one," Liam waves awkwardly, "Louis, correct?"

"Yep," Louis confirms for himself, "nice to meet you suicidal murderer."

Liam gulps and shivers and he holds his hands up in defeat,

"I was kidding, I'm sorry, I guess I'm not good at breaking ice. And uh, Niall, right blondie?"

"Niall." He sighs, rolling his eyes at the stupid nickname. Blondie. He should just dye his hair back to brown; anything to get rid of that dreaded nickname.

"Okay so, who wants to go first?"

They all stare, just hoping someone would take them out of their misery, until Harry confidently stands up with a sigh,

"Might as well get it over with," he says, getting up and sitting down in the therapist's chair. The other boys sit expectantly, waiting for Harry to settle himself and begin to explain his story.

"I um...fell in love." He says quietly, "With a boy. I'm uh, not sure how you feel about that--"

"Nah, I have too mate." Louis raises his hand confidently and Niall follows,

"Not in love, but I'm gay too."

Harry turns to Liam, who shrugs,

"Wherever the wind takes me."

"Right, but um..." he exhales, "this boy was kind of...bad for me."

"How so?"

"He didn't love me. At all. I was so blinded by his beauty that I didn't the monster that really hid underneath. But that's not the problem; I've been stuck for a year at least now, giving him everything and receiving nothing."

"Then you leave," Liam pipes up, "I mean, that's the obvious choice."

"But I've tried and failed so many times," Harry exhales, "It's like I was never meant to leave him, but I need to at the same time. It's not fucking fair that it became this hard to break free from someone like him."

"What's his name?"

"Levi."

"Full name?"

"Levi Cameron Jones."

"He sounds like a pretentious sadistic bastard."

Harry's eyes widen and he blushes at the insults thrown at Levi's name. It's his name for god's sake; what can he do about it?

"There's times when I feel like he wants me, but then he makes me want to kill myself," he whispers, "telling me everything that I do wrong and how it's not him and his confusion, but it's me and my infatuation that ruins us."

"That could be true, but it's not like he's helping," Louis says, proving a fair point.

"Yeah, I guess..." he sighs.

"Look," Liam suddenly speaks up, "if you don't leave he's just going to take advantage of you until he feels like he's sucked all the love out of you."

"Funny," Harry says, "the therapist said he was feeding off my affection too."

"He probably never gets any, that's why." Niall snorts and Harry turns to him with another shocked expression. What a savage comment.

"I..."

"What do you think you should do Harry?"

This is a question he hates to hear. It never fails to pop up and it aggravates him; of course he knows what to do! The problem is that he can't do it without chickening out or crawling back right after.

"I know what to do," he says in a monotone voice, "leave him, move on, search for happiness to the end of the earth. I know and I'm telling you that I've tried."

"Then try harder."

He looks at them, tears collapsing from his eyes as they cascade down his cheeks. Louis bites his lip, standing up and holding his arms out,

"When was the last time you had a hug?"

Shrugging, he pulls him up and wraps him in his embrace. It's nice, feeling warmth other than his own. He snakes his arms around and laces his fingers together against his back. Soon he feels the blonde (Niall, is it?) lean up against him and wrap his arms around him as well, and then Liam comes right after. Three boys are holding him in their embrace and for some reason, their belief in Harry is making him feel better than ever; more determined to let go.

"I'll go with you."

Harry hears his voice as they break, turning to the blonde with purple dyed tips.

"Huh?"

"I'll go with you," he says, "when you say goodbye to Levi."

"I...how?"

"Can you drive?"

He nods and Niall smirks,

"Then come pick me up. I'll be your moral support, make sure you don't back out and, my shoulder is free to cry on."

Harry smiles, liking the idea. Niall seems really nice, and maybe having someone to push him is what he needs.

"Tomorrow, okay?"

Now, Harry doesn't like that.

"Tomorrow?!" He says frantically, "I'm not prepared! Leaving tomorrow would be insanity I just--"

"You've been holding this back too long," Louis backs up Niall's suggestion, "It's about fucking time this Levi dude had a good look at what he's doing to you. Look at this! You're in therapy because you fell in love with a boy that liked fucking with you regardless of your never ending affection for him."

"Next volunteer?" Harry pipes up softly, and Niall raises his hand,

"I'll go I guess."

Harry and Niall get up, exchanging glances as they switch seats,

"Okay," Niall sighs, "so as you can see, you can probably already tell where this story is going."

"Tell it anyway," Liam shrugs, "a story is a story, and you can't just expect us to know your story by how your appearance is."

The other two boys nod and Niall smiles at Liam warmly. What he said was the most insightful thing he's heard all week.

"I started cross dressing when I was young," Niall starts, "Young young. My step-brother supported me and so did my parents, but then something happened."

The boys all sit patiently as Niall swipes at his eyes,

"My mum died in an accident; a drunk driver hit her with a truck."

Niall hates talking about it; and this is the most he's mentioned it in years.

"I'm sorry..." he looks over to where Louis is, watching as he gives him a sympathetic glance. Niall gives him a simple shrug but when he feels Harry's hand on his knee his eyes frantically stare at the target. His fingers run across his knee-cap compassionately as he's still shocked by the physical contact.

"I'm sorry." He says as well, "I don't know what it feels like to lose someone to death but I can imagine how much it hurts."

Niall purses his lips, slightly shying away from his touch.

"But I guess my mum's death is what triggered my dad to um...stop accepting it. He met this woman, a fucking monster, and since then nothing has been the same. We moved because of my brother's job offer, and then I was going to private school."

"And how did that go?"

"I'm sure it would have been fine if the principal didn't stupidly tell everyone that I wore panties instead of boxers over the intercom."

"Ahh shit..." Louis cringes along with the other boys.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you go to a shitty private school."

"After?"

"I experienced something I've never had practice in; bullying. No one bothered me in my old school; it was a good system and people were used to my cross dressing. Then we decided to move to London and now all I deal with is bullies."

"What's your brother's name?"

"Zayn Malik," he tells them. Zayn never took Niall's family's last name, kept his. It took away from their brotherhood, but either way he knows that Zayn is his brother.

"Don't know him," Louis shrugs, "but anyway Niall, what I think you need to do is a few things."

"What are those?"

"Well first off--"

"Get out of that school." Harry pipes up, interrupting Louis politely, "They don't even deserve to have you as a student."

"How?" Niall asks, "Just--"

"I'll help you." Harry says, "You're helping me, I'll help you."

He bites his lip,nodding at his request.

"But um, there's one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Zayn and I um..." Niall fiddles with the hem of his shirt before the words rush out of his mouth, "we almost had sex."

"Incest?"

The three of them are unphased when Niall says it, and he makes a face when he realizes that no one is crying in disgust,

"You're okay with it?"

"We don't care," Liam shrugs, "people do things they're not supposed to. It's what makes us human; especially the temptation to be bad."

"Thank you," Niall sighs, "but it was out of my own selfishness. There was something going on at school and I went to him for comfort. Things happened that related to what happened there, and then things got sexual. I could have ended it, but Zayn called me pretty and...well no one calls me pretty."

"I think you're pretty."

Harry. God, that boy likes to speak a lot, doesn't he? Niall looks to him, his cheeks burning red as Harry looks him dead in the eyes.

"You're just saying that..." he mumbles.

"No," Harry reassures him, "frankly, you don't need anyone telling you you're pretty in order to believe you are. And I don't just say things. I don't lie, even if it's for the smallest things. Why would I after swimming in Levi's sea of lies?"

He can't even form a proper response; he's just amazed at Harry's bluntness.

"Then erm, thank you." Niall tries to rid of the blush as he points at Louis, "Why are you here?"

"Me?" Louis looks around at the three of the boys before him, completely forgetting that he had a story to tell. He's had a tendency for that; forgetting.

"Yeah," Liam says, "you go."

"Uh, alright," Louis prepares himself, "ever since I was young, my parents believed I had a gift. Long story short, after years and years of believing that, they've turned this thought against me. Mental abuse."

"That's terrible..." Niall whispers.

"I thought I was gonna die in that house by the time freshman year rolled around, but then..."

He gulps and bites his lip as he feels the tears coming so early in the story. God it's been so long since he's seen him.

"Louis? Are you alright?"

Harry reaches out to touch him on his thigh but Louis reverts back from the touch. It was Corden's favorite place to lay his hands on. He used to leave so many hickeys on his thighs; loving kisses, massages, shit Louis just missed it all so much.

"Corden..." he whispers as the water falls from his eyes. He misses Corden; he's everything to him; he doesn't give a shit if it's been two years. Louis is in love with Corden and he wants him back now. He's the only mediator in his life; everything has been a suicidal mess since he was gone. It's worse than it was without Corden.

Corden Corden Corden.

Corden is Louis' life support. Louis. Needs. Corden.

"Louis? Who's Corden?"

And then Louis is sobbing, throwing his head into his hands as he finally let's everything go. He's tired of keeping quiet and trying to be brave. Doesn't he get a chance to be a human being too? To show human emotions?

To cry every once in awhile?

Liam pats his back as he hiccups every once in a while, wiping his eyes before coming back to his senses and explaining.

"Corden is...I love him. I met him when I was a freshman and we'd been dating for five years before he stopped showing up at my bedroom window..."

"Your parents didn't let you see him?"

"No," Louis tells Niall, "they didn't suspect a thing until two years ago. When they found us in my room I swear my dad would have killed him if he had the opportunity. So I told him to stay away; to forget about me before it's too late."

"Why would you tell him that if you're sitting here in therapy, because you need him?"

"Because I didn't want to hold him back. And good thing I did, because two years and one suicide attempt later, they were threatening to kill him."

"There's no doubt that he needs you as much as you need him."

"I need him so much," Louis sniffles, "but...my parents they, they need to go first. And I can't do it alone. Here's the picture of them that the therapist asked me to bring. She agrees; I need to get out of this house."

The boys all look at the photo, examining what louis' parents looked like and were soon adjusted to their physical appearances.

"I mean...what do I do?"

"Obviously the help boat is about to set sail," Harry shrugs, "ask one of us. We could even call the police if we have to, get them in jail. They verbally threatened Corden, and mental abuse can get you a long way in jail."

"Yeah, and I'll help you out as well Louis." Liam says, "But only if you can help me."

"What's the deed?" Louis asks, wiping his eyes yet again, and Liam takes at least twenty deep breaths before beginning.

"I, killed a man."

This time, all their faces fall.

"What do you mean..." Louis asks, making sure his phone is on him. It's not that he's scared; he just doesn't know Liam.

But Liam does Louis check for his phone and outwardly groans,

"I--please trust me. It was a car accident I--I was high."

"You were high?!"

"No--well--"

"That's illegal..." Harry whispers and they all look at him, aware that cannabis in the UK is extremely illegal.

"I know," he says, "I've just had some...dark times."

"Mhm," Louis continues, "what happened to lead you to it?"

"I swear I'm not a bad person I swear," Liam pleads them for their trust, being that these are the only people he has to confide to. Niall bites his lip nervously as Louis and Harry only lean in to listen.

"I swear I..." he exhales, "it's just--my friends."

"Your friends?"

"Well," he starts, "they're not exactly my friends. I call them my army."

"Why?"

"Because I only stay to protect myself from everyone else," Liam explains quietly, "they're my army."

"Men of importance have armies," Louis argues, "and truth be told, being in high school, you're not that important to your classmates, and you shouldn't be interested in them frankly."

"But I--" Liam gulps, "either way like, I'm not doing the things I do on purpose. I just did it to fit in with them so they wouldn't drop me and leave me."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"I accidentally got semi-addicted to weed."

"God," Louis covers his face, "what happened when the police found out about the car accident?"

"They didn't..." Liam says, able to talk about the incident without sobbing or getting sick, "my parents they...covered it up."

"Why?!" Harry exclaims, "How?! I--"

"Money." He mumbles brokenly, "Money they use to avoid reality. I tried to kill myself seven times. They covered it up every single time. Because of their reputation. The things my parents have covered up with money are unbearable."

"Why?"

"Reputation..." the word slips off his tongue like poison, "all they care about is reputation."

"Your parents are committing a felony," Louis says, "looks like we're stuck in the same situation. I...I guess I can help you. You need help though. You're suicidal and addicted to an illegal drug."

"Thanks for reminding me," Liam rolls his eyes but Louis pats his shoulder, reminding him that he's only there to help. That's what they're all there to do; help each other.

"But what else can you tell us about it?" Louis tries to pry further, to see if Liam will actually be sent to prison for his choices.

"I...nothing I can say confidently." He says nervously, "I mean I could but--"

"It's fine," Niall assures him, "I get it. We all just met. It's not like we can start pouring our deepest feelings at our highest extent."

"Right," Louis says, "but for now, at least we can help each other get past what's mainly bothering us."

They all nod in agreement,

"So Harry and Niall, you two help each other," Louis says, "and Liam, I guess we'll both have to go to the uh..."

"Police." Liam concludes with a sad nod, "Guess I should be counting my days."

"No," Niall says to him, "have hope. In fact,"

He looks at all of us before continuing,

"All of us should have hope. We...we can make it through this. We are going to make it through this. I see it now...it was all so simple. I guess we just needed a little push to find out what we need to do."

"So we're agreed," Harry says, "we help each other. Give each other that push we so desperately need."

They all accept in unison that with being left with nothing but each other, they're going to use it to their advantage. After all, people aren't poison. It's specific personalities that are the poison.

next: harry's conclusion (somebody that i used to know)