I stepped into the office, seeing that it was a tad bit small, but big enough to make it whole.

I could smell a combination of cologne and boot polish as soon as I entered. There were no windows in here, so the only light source was a small lamp on a solid wood writing desk in the corner, making the room quite dim.

The entire office was painted a warm taupe colour, with a straightforward flower pattern bordering the perimeter. A warm beige-brown carpet covered the floor, and the ceiling was the same colour as the walls, which were grey.

The desk was quite messy, even though the room was meticulously organised in general. It appeared as though the therapist had hurriedly come and gone in search of an important document, because the papers he had been working on were dispersed all over the place in a disorderly manner. On the left side of the desk, a flipped-over folder was accompanied by a blue ballpoint pen.

"Ignore the mess. No one told me that being a therapist would be so much work." Said Dr Murphy, chuckling and taking a seat in front of me in his chair.

After the incident with the letter, and a bit of thinking, I finally decided to go to therapy. It was something I never thought I would be doing again. Well, the first time was rehab—but this time I felt it was right for me at this moment. Jackson and Gray happily offered to help me once they found out I agreed.

"Have a seat, please. You've been standing a while." He tells me, not realising I've been looking around for some time.

I sat down on the soft silver-grey sofa opposite him and crossed my legs at the ankle. He held a clipboard in his hand and a pen, and finally looked up at me. He was a handsome lad, with hazel brown eyes and a face like prince charming.

"I'm supposed to ask you a few personal required questions before starting, but you answered them already on the form, so we're just going to get straight to the session." He clarified, which made me less nervous than I already was.

"I would also like to remind you that if you think I'm kind of horrible at this, just know that I'm completely aware. My father was a therapist himself and wanted me to follow in the similar field, even though I told him it wasn't what I wanted to do. So just bear with me on this, please. I'm trying." He explained, chuckling nervously, and I nodded in response, giving him a fake thin smile.

"What brought you to see me today?" He asked, getting his pen ready to write.

"Erm....a lot is going on in my life right now." I answered, fiddling with my fingers.

"Have you had any really sad or scary things happen to you?" He inquired, writing my response down on the clipboard.

"Yes, erm....some stuff has been happening where this person is trying to torment me."

"Torment you how?" He questioned, writing it down.

Should I say it? It is therapy after all, so I have to, I guess.

"Well, there was this bloke I kind of angered at a pub a while ago. Since then, I believe he has been stalking me. Not only that, but he left a dead, decapitated cat on my porch, and a few days ago wrote me a threatening letter." I answered.

"And have you contacted the police about this?" He inquired, writing it down. I nodded, to which he replied, "Use your words. That's very important when in therapy."

"Uhm, yeah, they've been investigating it and stuff." I answered, subconsciously biting my lip.

"What did you do to anger him?"

"It's stupid, really. He thought I looked at his girlfriend, but didn't know it was actually his pal." I rolled my eyes, answering.

"Did he say something that day to make you assume that it's him?" I thought for a moment, and his words came back to me instantly.

"I know what you did, and you aren't getting away with it."

"Yes, he said that he knows what I did, and that I wasn't gonna get away with it." I repeated his words.

"But are you sure it's him that's stalking you? Did he follow you home?" He questioned further, now crossing his legs.

That's a thought that had been running through my mind since my conversion with the lads the other day.

Did he follow me? If he did, how did I not notice?

"To be honest with you, I don't quite know. All I know is that I'm being stalked and threatened by a loon." I responded, the slight fear creeping back up on me just by the thought.

The fear and anxiety that I might no longer be safe kept me up at night. Not only that, but just thinking about it made me anxious and scared.

Scared to go outside, scared to walk home alone, scared to open the door for anyone, and just scared in general.

Sure, I had my two guns, but were they enough for my protection? Surely I can't go around carrying a gun in my pocket, so what could possibly be done for me to feel safe like before?

"If the police are handling it, then I'm sure there's nothing to worry about for now." He reassured me.

"I hope so." I muttered under my breath.

"Alright, so onto another topic. On the form you signed before coming here, you said that used to have a drug and alcohol problem," he changed the conversation, saying. "What made you do that?"

I know why; because of Aitch.

His loss affected me greatly. So much to the point where I couldn't eat, sleep, nor had the courage to shower. It was all built up on the guilt I felt. The guilt that I should've listened to.

Why did I have to tell him to climb the stupid tree with me? Why did I have to stupidly convince him? I know we were just kids, but it still was no excuse.

If I had just listened to his mum, and even Grayson, he would still be alive. He would be living, breathing, and still would be my best friend.

I wish I could just go back in time and listen to them, but knew I couldn't. It was a price I had to pay. A price that has haunted me for almost 9 years.

"Guilt. Regret....just a lot of it." I breathed out, saying, rubbing my thighs in frustration.

"And you're sober now, right?" He asked, studying me closely.

"Yes."

"Hm....do you ever have the urge to do it again? Like you can't resist?" He questioned, leaning forward.

"No, never."

"What would you say was your breaking point when you first started?" He wrote something down again and then looked back up at me, waiting for me to answer.

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows, asking.

"Did you cry it out to the point where it hurt too much? Stuff like that." He explained.

My thoughts went back in time for a moment, and I couldn't find a memory of ever crying.

The only memory I had was shock. Shock and being speechless as I watched my best friend bleed out from the face. Shock from seeing his dead body inside the casket. Shock from seeing his body being lowered into the grave. Shock from the realisation that he was really gone.

Shock that it was all my fault.

___

On the day of exam week, I felt anxious and nervous. No matter how hard I studied, there was still doubt about me passing. This was the test that would determine my future of possibly going to Law School, and believe me, it's not an easy one.

My mum didn't believe that it was the best course for me, but I explained to her my reason for taking it, and she understood.

I just hoped I do an excellent job.

"Alright students, may the test begin." The professor declared, and everyone quickly opened their test booklets and started reading.

Jackson gave me a thumbs-up and said good luck. I did the same, then returned my gaze to the test in front of me. I exhaled, my hands beginning to sweat as I read the first question.

You'll do fine, Louis, just breathe. I paused suddenly, my brows raising in confusion. Everyone was concentrating on the test as I looked around. I looked back down at the booklet and took a deep breath, letting it out, then picked up my pencil, getting ready to answer, but kept doubting whether or not it would be wrong.

Come on, Louis, you know the answer to this.

Soon enough, it had now been 2 minutes, and still, no answer had been chosen. The sweat on the palm of my hands made the pen slippery, causing me to almost drop it.

Louis, just bubble in the bloody answer already!

Feeling pressured, I bubbled in the answer I felt was right, the anxiety slowly calming down.

Now onto the next question, but that was wrong you idiot!

I rubbed my face in frustration, thinking about if I should run my head through the wall or jump out through the window.

Sighing, I erased the answer and finally chose the one that seemed right to me.

The test went on for about 30 minutes now, with me listening to my thoughts to decide which answer was correct.

The silence in the room was interrupted by the sudden sound of music playing. At first, I didn't pay much attention to it, until the familiar melody got louder, catching my attention immediately.

"Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this in the firelight, Fernando."

I looked around the room to see if anyone was bothered by the noise, but everyone's eyes were concentrated on the test.

It got loud and louder, to the point where it became harder to concentrate. No one seemed to have been batting an eye, as if the music wasn't bothering them.

"We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die."

Suddenly, my brain lost focus, bringing me into another reminiscence.

"There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando!" Aitch and I harmonised, dancing and singing to ABBA playing on the radio.

"They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernando!"

Aitch spun himself around and started doing the disco point, whilst I did the double one.

"Though I never thought that we could lose, there's no regret!" We were both smiling, enjoying ourselves.

"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando!"

We both started doing the roll and then the disco shuffle, singing our hearts out.

"If I had to do the same again, I would my friend, Fernando!"

I blinked rapidly as I came back to, rubbing my eyes.

A frown rose upon my face at the flashback that just happened, remembering the fun times that me and Aitch had.

We used to do everything together, and now it's like a piece of the group was missing. It felt empty. Like a puzzle piece being lost.

I thought so much about it, that I didn't realise that the music had stopped.

Confused is what I was, wondering where the music came from in the first place. When I would have the flashbacks, there was never a sound before getting them, which confused me even more.

"Mr Tomlinson, are you alright?" The professor asked me, noticing I looked out of it.

"Uhh, yeah, I'm alright, thanks." I lied, which he believed and went back to reading the book in his hands.

That was weird.

___

A week later, me and Harry decided to spend some time together and watch some films.

We chose Hope and Glory, a war film that came out last year.

"My dad and uncle were in the war." I tell him, eating a bowl of popcorn.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "You tell that story all the time, Lou. I'm pretty sure it's somewhere already in my memory at this point." I blushed, knowing it was true.

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I sometimes forget what I've told you. You know, just a lot of stuff." I shrugged, munching on the popcorn that tasted like it needed some more salt, but was too lazy to get up.

"Forget? You forget things? That's not good." He said, resting his arm on top of the sofa.

"I know, but it's still nice to remind you, you know?" I replied, looking up and smiling fondly at him. "I'm going to get old one day, of course." After I said that, his whole face changed, turning into a cringed expression.

"Oh, I'm—I'm sorry. I know how you feel about the getting old thing." I apologised, feeling bad.

Twisting his lips and forcing a closed-mouth smile, he said, "It's fine. It's not that important anyway, so."

I studied his eyes for a second, and without saying a word, I leaned up and pressed my mouth against his, catching him off guard. He didn't kiss back, frozen in place.

"The one time you give me a key to your house, this is what I walk into."

I pulled away from Harry's lips to see Grayson standing there, Alfie beside him.

"Papa? What's uncle Lou doing?" He asked him, a confused—yet—weirded-out look on his face.

"Nothing, sweetheart, just go play with the toys you have here." Grayson tells him, and he nodded and ran upstairs.

"I know it's Saturday, but my brother decided to watch Alfie whilst we go to this party tomorrow." He announced, sitting on the small sofa on the other side.

"A party? We haven't been to one in a while." I replied, not liking the idea too much.

My whole school life had been nothing but torture. Bullying followed me everywhere I went, all because I was different. It caused me to be traumatised by the time I went to Uni, where finally I was accepted; but the bruises never left my body. They were still there, like a reminder that I will never fully escape the trauma.

Those people did awful things to me. Such awful things that I can't ever repeat. At every party we went to, they were there, bringing back all the memories that left a scar on me.

"Right, which is why we're going to one. It's a house party, not a dorm this time. It'll be fun, you know? Some lads from summer camp will be there, and that bloke from secondary school, Danny, will be there as well."

My body eased with relief once he said that, knowing everyone there accepted me for who I was.

"The kid who told and convinced everyone that you were 12 for the past three years?" I raised my brow, asking.

"In his defence, I did look twelve all that time after my twelfth birthday." He clarified.

"Mate, you looked 6!"

"I did not—"

"Alfie looks just like you around that age, and he's 5!"

"Alright! enough talking, are you up for it or not?" He asked me again, cutting the banter off.

I thought for a moment. "Sure, I guess."

"Ace! I'll see you tomorrow then." He said, before walking into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of animal biscuits from the larder, and then leaving, closing the door behind him with the key I gave him.

____

I walked into the house, the smell of alcohol immediately hitting my nostrils. It was packed with people dancing and singing their hearts out. A few were dancing together, their bodies pressed against each other.

My eyes roamed around to find Jack and Grayson, only to bump into someone else.

"Tommo!"

Oh no.

"Whasssuuuppp!" the familiar wasted blonde-haired lad slurred loudly, walking up to me and patting my shoulder, resting his hand there and taking another swig of his drink, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer.

Looks like someone went to America after graduation.

"Leo, hello, mate! Long time no see." I greeted back, subtly moving my eyes to find a glimpse of them.

"This party is totally rad, man!"

Yep, definitely has been in America all this time. Fortunately, he still had his accent, but it was quite faint.

"It is, yeah." I felt relief wash over me once I finally found Jackson.

"You totally should come to America, man. It was—"

"Cool, righteous, got it," I cut him off with an American accent. "Well, it was nice chatting with you, mate. See you later." Sighing in relief after being free, I made my way towards Jackson, who was talking to a short and slim woman, her skin a beautiful brown almond.

It's not that I don't like Leo, he's actually a genuinely sweet person. However, he tends to be a tad bit invasive of people's space, and I mean invasive.

He doesn't exactly understand personal space, and when you tell him politely, he thinks that you're being rude. When we were in school, not many people wanted to go near him, or just avoided him.

Jackson looked over at me and smiled."Tommo, you're here!" I could already tell he was drunk by the way his words were slurred.

"Hiya, mate!" I greet him, giving him a quick hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Amara. Amara, this is my best mate, Louis." He introduced us. Amara gave me a warm smile and shook my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Louis." I returned the smile whilst shaking her hand, and we let go.

"She's studying finance." He tells me, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Really? I wanted to study technology, but it was a bit too easy—well—for me it was, so I'm studying law instead."

"Law? Yeah, that is challenging. It's one of the hardest courses to take." I nodded in agreement.

"I'm gonna get us some more drinks." She declared, and began walking away, leaving the two of us.

"So...she seems nice. I like her," I truthfully said. "What do your parents think of her, though? You know, since they're a bunch of racist cunts."

He rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head. "Fuck off, mate. They know by now to piss off when they bring up things that don't concern them about me."

I raised my hand in surrender. Grayson suddenly came to my mind, wondering where he was.

"Plus, she's beautiful. Her skin is beautiful, her smile is beautiful. They can kiss my bum." He said, and took a drink of the alcohol in his cup.

"Where's Gray?" I asked, looking around for him.

"Probably outside. He came here with Grace." He answered, a smirk plastered on his lips.

I blinked in surprise. "Really now? Then I should definitely find him." I said, before walking away outside to find the brown-haired lad.

The sun peaked through the clouds as it went down, painting a clear lilac sky, making the whole neighbourhood look slightly dark.

It was a bit chilly, but the weather had calmed down a bit since it was almost spring.

My eyes roamed around the small crowd of people, not yet seeing Grayson. I walked around to see if I saw a glimpse of him, but still nothing.

Giving up, I almost made my way back into the house to see if he went back inside, until a familiar figure caught my eye.

Him.

My eyes widened in fear, my body
subconsciously beginning to shake. I felt my heart begin to pound rapidly, feeling like it might burst.

I felt like I was having a heart attack. My chest tightened, making it hard for me to breathe. The palm of my hands became sweaty, and I felt my hands trembling. I lifted them up to see them shaking uncontrollably.

"What's happening to me?" I breathlessly choked out, my breathing laboured. The corner of my eyes started to prickle with tears, and it was then that I began praying to God, even though I didn't believe in him.

This is the end of me, I just know it.

____

GRAYSON

"So, tell me, what made you want to study education?" Grace asked, giving me her full attention.

I shrugged, my legs shaking. "I always just pictured myself as a nursery school teacher. I love kids and am really excellent with them, so."

"I assume it's because you have a little one of your own?" At that, I furrowed my brows, wondering how she knew about Alfie.

"You have a picture of him in your wallet, silly. He looks just like you." She giggled, placing a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You've seen my wallet?"

"Yeah, when I saw you at lunch one time, a picture of him was in it whilst you were paying." She explained.

"Oh." I blushed, feeling embarrassed.

"You had him young, didn't you?" A more serious look was now on her face as she asked the question.

"Erm, yeah, I did....I know a lot of people have a problem with it, but it really was just unexpected." I tried to explain, my leg shaking faster. She noticed, her eyes gazing down at it.

She reached into her bag that was hanging over her shoulder and pulled out a piece of wrapped chocolate, then handed it to me.

"Oh, Erm, thanks." I laughed nervously, taking it from her and opening it, seeing that it was a Caramac bar.

I broke a piece off and took a bite of it, closing my eyes in satisfaction as the sweet milky caramel taste melted in my mouth.

My leg stopped shaking, realising she gave it to me so that I would calm down.

"I have to admit, I don't support teen pregnancies, and for obvious reasons," she began, causing me to feel anxious that she was about to judge me like the others did. "But if you're responsible and financially stable, like you have a job and stuff, then I don't see much of a problem. I mean, I still do. It's too young to have a child, but if you—" she trailed off, sighing deeply.

"Sorry, I feel like I'm making it worse." She assumed, and I quickly shook my head.

"No, absolutely not. I understand what you mean. A lot of teen parents don't know what they're doing. I didn't know what I was doing when my girlfriend first got pregnant, and my parents pressured me to get a job. It was hectic back then." She too frowned, looking away for a second.

"What's wrong?" I asked, not understanding the mood change.

"You have a girlfriend?" She assumed, and I immediately shook my head, my neck almost cracking, but tried to pretend it didn't happen.

I shake my head way too much.

"No, I don't. She....she passed away a few years ago when our son was one." I clarified, looking down sadly. I broke another piece of the chocolate and popped it into my mouth once my leg began shaking again.

"Oh, I'm—I'm sorry," she apologised, rubbing my back to comfort me. "How did she die?"

"Car crash. All because of me." I breathed out, causing me to almost choke whilst chewing the chocolate bar.

She patted my back and grabbed a water bottle from her bag and handed it to me. I immediately took it and twisted the top open, then gulped it down.

"Thanks." I mumbled, handing it back to her and subtly hiding my embarrassment with a thin smile.

"No problem. And why do you think it's your fault?" She questioned in curiosity, putting the water back into her bag after closing it.

"We got into this stupid argument." I answered, looking down at the floor.

"What was it about? If you don't mind me asking."

I sighed deeply, fidgeting with my fingers. "We were on the brink of breaking up. We fought all the time, mostly about Alfie because we began to lose money to take care of him, and we didn't have jobs yet, so we only got money from our parents, until they forced us to work. But that night, it was one of our worst fights yet. We're in a time, you know, where there's this like— belief that women should stay home to take care of the kids whilst the men go to work. Her father said something about it and all I did was defend her." She waited for me to continue, rubbing my back in gentle strokes like before.

"I defended her and all I got was a mouthful. She said I shouldn't have done that and was rude to her father, but it's just something I was raised not to believe in by both my parents, who did work whilst I was being properly taken care of by my aunts and uncles. We fought about it on our way home and Alfie was crying. Then...." My voice cracked at the end, and Gracie immediately pulled me into a hug as I began to cry, the tears rolling down my face and onto her white sheer blouse.

"I blame myself every day about it. I shouldn't have said anything and just been quiet." My voice trembled as the words left my mouth.

"No, no, nothing is your fault," she assured, still rubbing my back. "People who often take their parent's side fear that they might lose the relationship they have with them. Speaking from experience myself, I soon learned that I needed to stand up for myself and use my voice."

"How did it go?" I sniffed, my voice quivering.

"Quite good. They were shocked, but understood where I was coming from. I'm sure that was how she felt and couldn't think of ways to defend herself, you know? To speak up. She was scared, but it's not something you should be blaming yourself for." We pulled away, and she gave me a sweet reassuring smile.

"What if she wasn't and meant everything?" I questioned rhetorically.

"Then I can't say. She's passed on. But if she was still alive and meant it, then I guess she wasn't the girl for you." I took in her words, wondering if Sophie and I would've still been together or broken up. Considering we always argued, I'm assuming the answer is the second advice.

"Then who is?" I asked her, even though the answer was clear.

"I don't know....who do you think is right for you?" She asked back, and I shrugged.

She stared into my eyes for a moment, and began to lean in. Without realising, I too began to lean in.

Our lips almost touched, until the knocking of the door interrupted us.

"Grayson?!" It was Louis.

I stood up from the bed and opened the door to see him standing behind it, his face pale.

"Louis, oh my god—" I rushed him inside, closed the door, and sat him down on the bed beside Grace.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked worriedly.

"He's having a panic attack." I tell her, and got on my knees in front of him, telling him to look at me.

"Lou, close your eyes and breathe for me. Can you do that?" He nodded and obliged, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths in and out. It helped me calm down a tad, but my hands were still shaking.

"I don't even kn— wait, the chocolate!" I exclaimed, almost giving up before realising that the chocolate might help him.

I grabbed it and broke a piece, then handed it to him. He ate it in one bite and began chewing.

It took 5 more pieces for him to finally calm down and get his breathing back to normal.

"You alright now, mate?" He nodded, rubbing his face in frustration.

I've never experienced someone having a panic attack before, so it was unclear to me what to do. He's never had them before. I assumed he saw the man again, but after doing some thinking about him before, I felt it was best not to mention it.

"Come on, we're gonna get you home." At that, we left. However, Jackson insisted on staying.

I hope you guys liked this chapter!

Luke was added later on because I didn't realise I would also need a face claim for Louis' therapist.