Dark Paradise
Prologue
A Liam Payne Oneshot.
This could possibly be the setting of a horrific post-apocalyptic film, where the main character dies from the very disease he had fought the whole film trying to avoid. Dramatic, I’m being too dramatic. But what else can I compare it too? I’ve been alone in here forever. The clock is ticking away countless seconds, as the faucets leaks, and voices and people move silently outside the window of the door. Time in this room is standing still. I want this to be over, but I don’t want to walk out of here feeling even worse than before I came, because what’s that solve? I have tried thinking practically, rationalizing the results but if wishful thinking won’t make the pain go away hopefully drugs will.
But it doesn’t matter because there is nothing wrong.
I can’t find anything to do with my hands, so I wrap them around each other but that doesn’t feel right, so twiddle, crack, and bend them to ease the tension. Not sitting still, and then immediately becoming motionless, and thinking of the worse because it’s a habit of mine that I can’t seem to break. I have only ever been in a situation like this once before, when I broke my nose, and my mother cried for me and my father just shook his head because boys will be boys. A broken nose didn’t stop me from boxing, and this, whatever this is, won’t stop me from singing. It won’t stop me from living, from being happy, but it does keep me up at night, makes me wince, cough, and my ears ring. But it’s nothing, I tell myself its nothing, because it is.
But then why haven’t I said anything to her? Why haven’t I said anything to the boys? If it’s nothing then why am I hiding it, because if I don’t they’ll worry. I don’t need them worrying.
It’s fucking cold. They must keep the temperature just above freezing in these places, but I’m still sweating. I have been here for an hour, maybe longer, staring at these plain white walls, reading and re- reading the posters. Get your prostate checked, check for heart disease, breast cancer, or scoliosis. Do they make this room with sane people in mind? What comfort can be found in staring at nothingness, and informational packets about how many ways in which I can potentially die. How long does it take to run a test? I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my shorts; this must be what it feels like to lose your mind.
I almost want to leave without knowing, I think I’d be better off anyway. There’s nothing wrong. I’m fine, and even if I’m not, it’s probably nothing a little Nyquil can’t fix.
Something is buzzing what the hell is that buzzing? Shit. Emma’s face is lighting up on my screen her big smile making this harder “Uh, Hey babe” There is bustling in the background, laughter and music makes it hard to hear. I’m suddenly more anxious, and start clamoring around a bit, it’s too quiet here. She’ll know something’s wrong.
“Liam where are you”, I can hear the impatient edge in her voice, “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago. We’re all waiting.” She sighed heavily, I don’t want to disappoint her again, because I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I think he hardest part is that I know. I know something’s wrong, and I know she’d want to be here with me, and I want her here but then I don’t. But what if it is serious? What if I have to give up everything am I even willing? Probably not. In fact I know I’m not.
“I’m almost there I promise! Your present is taking longer than I expected” I chuckle nervously, I hated lying to her it pangs me.
“You’re my present,” she sighed again, “Just hurry and get here.” A soft click graced my ears, she hung up on me. I lay my head in my hands shaking. I’m sneaking behind the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and for what? A small cough and soreness, I bet it is just sore throat or at worse mono. The door knob turns and the doctor walks in. He’s holding a clip bored and a pamphlet in his hand, my stomach dropped it is mono. He sat in the chair across from me pulling his round glasses from his face rubbing his eyes, “Liam,’ he paused sighing heavily, “I’m not really sure how to put this, but being straight forward would probably be best,” the longest pause of my young life happened next ,“You have Glottic cancer, it is a form of throat cancer”
My blood runs cold, at the memory of that day , as I splash the cold water on my burning cheeks, attach the microphone, comb the hair, the same routine, except not. I’m losing weight, staring at my own reflection, at my own body and noticing the differences, the deterioration of what I used to be. I stared like this for months, I decided If I was going to keep it a secret, and go on living normally, I would make myself remember the person I was before this; before the pale skin, rugged breath and pain.
“Liam, are you sure you can do this?” Zayn eyebrows furrowed the way they did when he was concerned I forced a smile, “Of course mate this is our fourth tour, our fifth year being together as a band I wouldn’t miss it” he stares at me a long time before walking over to Harry my bones were aching my jaw was always stiff I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it a secret.
Like always, side by side we take the stage, bright lights, screaming fans, I live for this, and I love this. I search out for her, because I always look forward to seeing her here, but the lights are always too bright, too many names being called at once. Every time I see her I try to mesmerize her, not just physically, but the way she makes me feel. It isn’t fair, and I’m gripping the microphone tighter because I literally have everything I need and then some. It’s not fair to her, I’m being selfish, but I don’t want to live the time I have left without her.
“Mike Wazowski!” It’s the voice I’ve been wanting to here for months now. My eyes are searching; I know I won’t be able to see her in the crowd. My solos coming and I can’t get this stupid ass grin off my face. I can picture her deep summer skin, wide brown eyes, long brown hair and my hearts beating a little faster.
“I love you boo!” I shout, the crowd erupts but it’s only for her and I know she knows that. Zayn pauses during his solo and smiles, Louis nudges me with his shoulder. I look like a child. Now I can really feel the energy building. My voice cracks, my throats burning, instead of my note coming out smoothly, like it had the last show I coughed, furiously into my hand. I can feel the burn but I’m too afraid to look, because it’s red, its blood.
No, this is not happening. This night means too much to all of us for me to ruin it. I try again, but the crowd has warped, and my eyes are stinging. It isn’t as loud as it once was I can hear her voice above the noise.
I’m scared that you won’t be waiting on the other side.
- Aurora
Any feedback would be greatly appreciated :)