C H A P T E R S I X

Music and Muses

❄●❄

LOUIS' THROAT SORT of ached when he woke Saturday morning, but he couldn't really complain because at least it was the weekend.  And at least they'd gotten some recording done yesterday.  At this rate, they'll have their first EP finished...hopefully by the time he's thirty.  Maybe.

Liam had assured everyone that Richie's brother would give them more time slots, though.  The question was, how many more of those time slots would they get before they'd be charged?  Louis was a broke-ass school teacher who only pretended he could afford two mouths to feed for a month to make himself feel better; there was no way he'd be able to swing paying for recording sessions in a studio.

Speaking of that second mouth, she was sitting on a stool at the island in Louis' kitchen, peering down at a magazine or something with a mug in her hand.  Louis blinked a couple times at her from his bedroom doorway (he knew she'd be here, but he still wasn't exactly used to sharing his flat) before sauntering into the bathroom to wake himself up.

After a quick shower and a shave, he ruffled his fingers through his damp hair, wandering into the kitchen.  Charming, who'd been sitting on the closed toilet seat the entire time Louis was in the bathroom, raced him there and sat beside Lottie's stool.

"Mornin'," Lottie greeted her brother, never lifting her eyes from what she was reading.

Louis went straight for his cereal cabinet.  "Did you boil enough water for two?"

"Yeah."

"What're you reading?"

"Your song lyrics."

Louis froze in the middle of pouring himself a bowl of Crunchy Nut.  "What?"

"I don't know.  Your notebook.  It was up here when I woke up, so I was just – "

"Give me that!"  He quickly snatched it away from his sister, his face and neck burning.  He didn't know why.  It was no secret that he was trying to start a band, but...he didn't know. 

Lottie raised her hands in surrender, raising a brow.  "Jeez, sorry."

Louis brought the notebook into his room and stuffed it back inside his bag.  This was why he never carried it around separately, because things like this happened.  He couldn't even remember why he'd had it out when he got home last night.  Perhaps he had an idea and did some writing in the cab.  It didn't matter; it'd never happen again.

He returned to the kitchen, still embarrassed enough to avoid meeting Lottie's patient eyes while he finished pouring his bowl of cereal and getting his own cup of tea.  Finally, after the tangible awkwardness became too much, Lottie gave in and shrugged.

"They were good, Lou.  I don't know why you're hiding them."

"I'm not hiding them.  I just..."  He sighed.  "It's weird.  When people write lyrics, they're usually personal and to have you reading mine is like...  It's like handing you my diary and being like, 'Here, enjoy.  Next installment will be ready for your entertainment in a week.'"

He munched on his breakfast for a while before Lottie responded to that. 

"Well, I was just reading them.  I wasn't looking to be entertained or to pry or anything like that.  Sorry."

Louis shook his head.  "Let's just forget about them then, yeah?"

His sister pursed her lips.  "So, we aren't going to discuss that one song?  The one in the very back that only – "

"Nope, we won't be discussing that one."

"But it only has a couple lines!  It's not even finished, and I was just wondering – "

"I said we won't be discussing that one, Lot."

She rolled her eyes, but Louis knew he was free of this conversation.  For now, anyway.  After a couple sips of her own tea and a short exchange with Charming, who was grateful for the minute of attention his new favorite human decided to pay him, Lottie changed the subject.  "I'm going job-hunting today.  Any recommendations?"

Louis turned to rinse his bowl.  "Depends on what you're looking for."

"I don't know.  Maybe I'll waitress somewhere."

Once his hands were dried, Louis wrinkled his nose and finished the rest of his tea before answering to that.  "I'd suggest something else, honestly.  Unless you get a really good restaurant, you probably won't make much doing that."

"I mean, I don't think I'll make much doing anything right now, Lou.  I'm looking for minimum wage jobs here, not a career."

He shrugged.  "Well, do what you want.  Do you need train money?"

Lottie stood and rinsed her own mug.  "No.  My boyfriend's picking me up."

"Your what?"

She rolled her eyes.  "My boyfriend, Lou.  You met him already.  Don't act so surprised."

"I'm not acting surprised.  I'm acting honest.  What's his name?"

"Honest about what?"

"Honestly forgetful," Louis admitted.  "His name?"

"Tommy."

"That's the worst name I've ever heard."

Lottie's manicured hand smacked him square in the chest before leaving him there alone to get ready for the day.  "Get over it."

It was weird, seeing his sister so grown up.  This hit Louis so often now that she was living with him; he wasn't sure when or if it'd ever become normal.  He hoped so.  He also hoped it'd become normal to him to find gobs of tangled hair and blackened wipes (he assumed due to mascara?) in his bathroom trash can, but somehow he knew that would never happen.

Once Lottie was gone about an hour later, Louis retreated to his bedroom with Dashing at his heels.  He shut his door softly behind them and climbed onto his bed, pulling his bag from the floor with him.  With a sigh, he opened it and gingerly took out the notebook he'd stuffed in there earlier.  It felt heavier than usual, like that last page was wet and was making the other pages wet, even the cardboard backside.  He opened to it.

He'd written the word Wicked at the top because he'd come up with what he hoped was a decent refrain one night.  He wasn't sure, of course.  If he didn't keep this one such a dark secret for some bloody reason, he'd have asked Liam by now for some help with it.  But maybe he wanted to do it himself this time.  He's never finished a song alone, not even before with his other band.

His eyes glued themselves to the only lines he'd managed to write so far, and he read over them more times than he was able to keep track of before his phone's text tone interrupted him.  But he ignored it for now, because he had something.  He scrambled for his pen and quickly jotted down the beginnings of a verse.

                  In a cold place / in nobody's space / you're comfortable enough to say what you meant to say.

Louis nodded to himself, humming the imagined tune to himself in an effort to keep the momentum going. 

                  And when you take your turn / just know it's gonna burn / but I'll consider it a lesson learned.

His phone sounded again.  It didn't matter, because that was it.  From there, the refrain began, and he was stuck after that.  He lost the drive almost as quickly as it had come to him, and ran a hand over his face, frustrated.  Then his phone sounded...again.

Louis grabbed it and glared at his notifications.  Niall and Lottie.

                  We still on 4 2nite?

And then, @ Li's. Hes making pizza!!

Before he responded, Louis had to remind himself that he wasn't angry at Niall and the twat would surely pick up his sour mood if he didn't watch the way he phrased his message.  Maybe the Irish were intuitive like that, Louis didn't know. 

                  I'll be there, bitch.  There, that should convince him well enough.  He tucked his notebook back into his bag and shoved it off his bed, too tired to deal with it anymore. 

It wasn't until he was halfway through an episode of Breaking Bad that he remembered his sister had also texted him. 

                  I'm going to watch movies at Tommy's tonight. (: Don't wait up! xx

Hell if he won't.  Be home by midnight.

Who are you, my mother?

Louis rolled his eyes.  Midnight.

                  Fine.

❄●❄

"I THINK WE should take a break," Zayn declared, tossing his pen at Niall across the room.

"We've hardly accomplished anything," Liam argued, but he wasn't insistent.  His soft spot for Zayn was almost vomit-inducing for Louis at times.  "But I suppose I could put in a pizza."

"Please," Niall said, tossing Zayn's pen back.  "My stomach is going to eat me."

Louis blinked at him.  "I don't think that's how it works."

"Pepperoni?  Ham and pineapple?  I might have a supreme too, but no promises."  Liam stood and disappeared into his kitchen.  After a moment of silence on the boys' end, Niall got up and followed him.

"How're things with Lottie going?" Zayn asked after a beat, his dark eyes hooded by too many eyelashes as far as Louis was concerned.  "She texted me today, you know."

This was news.  "About what?" 

Zayn shrugged, tracing an eyebrow with his index finger absentmindedly.  "Asked about you.  I think she's picking up on some stuff.  'M not sure, though."

God, Louis was regretting letting her move in more every second.  He rolled his eyes, masking his shame and humiliation with nonchalance and petty annoyance, propping his feet up on Liam's coffee table in an effort to make him look like he hardly cares as much as he actually does that Zayn probably knows he's faking it.

"It's okay if you're still upset, you know.  It only happened – "

"It happened almost a year ago, Zayn.  I've obviously moved on.  A year is a long time."

"It's really not," he argued gently.  "This year felt like it lasted about three months, Lou.  I'd still be upset if I were you."

Louis sat forward abruptly then, bringing his feet back to the floor and resting his elbows on his knees.  "Well, I'm not you and you're not me, and I am very grateful for that, aren't you?"

Zayn rolled his eyes.  "Chill out, mate.  'M not trying to start anything."

Louis really hated that Zayn's voice sounded like thick caramel, because it made it really hard to hate every word that came out of his mouth.  "Neither am I," he said, shrugging.  "And I'm chill.  I'm always chill, always perfectly refrigerated."

"You know, I actually think that you're deeply troubled still and you refuse to talk about it, but that's fine.  I was just letting you know that your sister's picking up on it, so you might want to do a better job of pretending otherwise."

It took a lot of Louis' strength not to snarl at his friend.  "Noted."

"Ham and pineapple was the pick of the day, boys," Niall announced, returning from the kitchen with a beer.  "Woah, d'you see that?"

Zayn and Louis waited for far too long before Niall continued.

"There's definitely some tension right there."  He poked his finger at the air in front of his face.  "Look, I just touched it."

"Shut the gaping hole in your fucking mouth," Louis sighed, running a hand over his face for probably the thirtieth time already today. 

"Hey, that could be a good song title," Zayn said.

Niall let out an exaggerated sigh.  "I suddenly miss Liam, so if you need me I'll be up his ass."

Louis watched Zayn's eyes flicker toward the kitchen almost instantly.  And like he knew the boy would, Zayn hopped up, stating something about needing to find something to eat besides the pizza, and hurried into the kitchen behind Niall.

With some time to himself, Louis glanced down at his notebook, sat abandoned on the seat of the sofa beside him.  He wanted so badly to be able to reach for it and start working on that song again, Wicked, or whatever he might end up calling it (if he ever finishes it).  He wanted so badly to be able to finish the whole thing tonight with the help of the lads, to have them all love it and to pay attention to it and to understand why he was writing it.  But he couldn't do those things right now.

This annoyed him to no end, and it continued to bother him until the others finally rejoined him with the first pizza.  Louis wasn't that hungry, to be honest, and as much as he wanted to excuse himself and go home, he couldn't.  He didn't want Zayn to think he'd gotten to him, and he didn't want Niall or Liam to think something was wrong.  Because if they asked, Zayn would likely say something either false or completely accurate, and Louis didn't know which was worse. 

So he stayed.