So Easy To Love

For whatever reason Oliver decided not to show up to the set on time the next day. I wasn't sure if this was his sick way of getting back at me, but it wasn't right. That wasn't the way to get back at me for telling him the truth. I was sent into a panic as the time ticked down and Oliver was still nowhere to be seen. Where there were five minutes left I decided that I had to find him. At that point he wasn't answering his phone, he wasn't anywhere the other boys had just been, and there was no way he could he late for his set because of something I said to him.

So there I was, running all around Warped in a romper that kept slipping down as I went. I constantly had to pull it back up so I wouldn't expose myself and sometimes I nearly forgot to because my mind was somewhere else. I kept running anyway, determined to get back to the stage in time for the set. I was in the bus area, dodging bikes and people and just trying to find Oliver without worrying myself to death. As a last resort I jogged over to You Me At Six's bus, hoping that somewhere there knew where Oliver was. I knocked a few times on the door quickly and then didn't bother to wait for an answer before just barging in. And there I found Josh and Oliver deep in conversation and seemingly shocked by my sudden appearance. And I just stood there, wide eyed and my hair completely windblown, my romper still sliding down my torso. This wasn't like Oliver. He was never late without reason, yet here he was indulging in girl talk with Josh.

I blinked a few times, "Get on stage," I told him breathlessly. He didn't say a word as he got up and brushed past me, walking off of the bus and slamming the door shut behind him. I didn't immediately follow him, instead opting to fall onto the couch and catch my ragged breath.

"I have to tell you something," Josh said suddenly. My eyebrows knitted together as I looked up at him, confused at the sort of urgency in his voice. He looked conflicted as he shifted in his seat across from me. I just looked confused.

"What?" I asked, my breathing still heavy.

"I know everyfhin'," he rushed through his words so quickly it all just sounded like one word.

"What?" I inquired slowly, my look hard. Josh sighed and looked down at his hands. He looked like he had regretted what he told me, but he was too far in now to turn back on his words. "What're you talking about, Josh?"

"Oliver tells me everyfhin’. Just sort of like you tell me everyfhin'," he mumbled lowly.

"Huh?"

He sighed again and looked up at me apprehensively, biting his lip softly before beginning his mini-speech, "I knew how you loved Oliver before you kissed me. Before this tour even. Tom told me, he let it slip once." I rolled my eyes. Tom would. "And well, Oli wanted me to kinda of...woo you on this tour."

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him oddly, "Excuse me?"

"He wanted me to try and get you to like me," he further explained himself.

"Why? Oliver doesn't know I like him, does he?" I asked, suddenly extremely horrified by this idea. Josh screwed his face up to one side and rocked his head back and forth like he was weighing his options, or thinking of a way to correctly answer my question.

"I don't fhink he knows knows. Like, I don't fhink he's 100%. He's asked Tom and I, but we've never given him a straight answer."

As opposed to my face growing red like it usually did, it completely drained of all color. Oliver was slightly aware of the fact I was head over heels in love with him. And even worse than that, he was trying to pawn me off on someone else. It was like my worst nightmare times a thousand. He didn't love me. He never would. Oh my God. I immediately launched off of the couch and onto my feet, ready to make a run for it. But Josh was quick and swiftly pushed me back down before I could even make a move.

"Lemme finish," he said sternly. I nodded solemnly, not able to too much else. My thoughts were reeling, making me lightheaded and my heart race. "Obviously I'm not very good with flirtin' and woo-in' the ladies," he laughed lightly as he rubbed his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees. "He got mad, that day he punched me, remember?" He asked. I rolled my eyes in response- as if I could forget. "I fhink everything just got overwhelmin' or whatever. He really wanted us to get together," he motioned between us.

"Why?" I stressed. He looked uneasy again, shifting his weight as he sat in front of me.

"I fhink you should ask him yourself."

I was running again in no time, dodging people, tents, bikes, you name it, as I did. My thoughts were doing much of the same thing; running racing, whatever you wanna call it. By the time I finally got to the main stage, Bring Me the Horizon was about half way through their set and I was completely out of breath. Tom saw me from the other side of the stage, and quickly walked behind Matt's drum set to get to me.

"Wha's tha matter wiff yeh?" He asked, noting my beat red face and ragged breaths. I bent over, my hands on my hips as I tried to catch my breath. Tom grabbed a water bottle and shoved it in my face, like that was going to magically help me. Once I took a few more deep breaths I grabbed the water bottle from his hands and unscrewed the cap quickly, downing the liquid in a few massive gulps. And then when I had mostly regained my composure I stood up straight, my hands still on my hips, and looked Tom dead in the eye.

"Josh told me everything," I yelled over the music so he could hear me. Tom's blue eyes went wide at this admission and then briefly floated over to where he brother was screaming into a microphone.

"Everyfhing?" He clarified. I didn't answer him because I didn't feel like screaming over the music so he could hear me. And I didn't feel like straining my ears to hear him. So instead I focused all of my attention on Oliver, my dark eyes following his every move as he ran around the stage.

I wanted to get inside his head. It seemed like such an interesting place. Oliver knew that I loved him. Or had an idea of it. So he thought he would just push me off onto someone else to get me to stop. Was he insane? Who thinks like that? It didn't make sense to me. But all of his mood swings suddenly made sense. Why he had seemed to be pushing me onto Josh, why he had called me a bitch, why he ignored me for seemingly no reason. He was angry his plan hadn't worked. He was angry that Josh hadn't successfully taken my attention away from him.

When the music stopped I blinked hard, watching everyone walk off the stage, Oliver being the last one off. I stepped in front of him just as he went to walk down the ramp, forcing him to look at me. At first he seemed surprised, but then his face went blank when he saw how angry I was. Because I never got angry. Ever. But I was angry now. And I was angry at Oliver of all people.

"Why do you hate me?" I asked him flatly. His eyebrows immediately knitted together and he looked confused.

"Wha'?" He asked dumbly.

"It's a simple question Oliver," I crossed my arms over my chest as I glared. "Why do you fucking hate me? Why did you try and push me off onto Josh? Because you're repulsed by me? Because the idea of me liking you disgusts you? Enlighten me," I said. My heart was pounding in my chest. Despite the fact I looked slightly tough and unfazed on the outside, inside I was shaking. Inside I was searching for some Xanax or an inhaler. Inside I was fucking terrified of his answer.

"I don't hate yeh Blair," he sighed, tugging on the curling ends of his sweaty hair. He tried to side step around me, but I followed him. I could feel everyone's eyes on us and that made me even more nervous.

"You're not running away anymore Oliver!" I yelled. "I'm not dealing with another one of your fucking temper tantrums followed by the silent treatment! You're not five and it's not fair!" I stomped my foot on the ground, acting like I was five this time.

"I don't hate yeh Blair," he repeated, his voice much lower this time.

"Then why did you try and push me on Josh when you found out I loved you?" I finally choked out, I heard Tom cough loudly from beside me.

"Uh, Blair," he tried.

"It's okay Tom," I insisted, briefly looking back at him. He gave me a sympathetic look but nodded and motioned for me to continue. If anyone knew how hard this all was for me, it was Tom. He was my best friend, the kid I told everything too, the boy who knew me better than I knew myself. He was well aware of the fact that I wanted to pass out, and that my knees were evidently shaking. He knew he would be the one to comfort me later on. He knew all of this, but he was letting me go.

When I turned my attention back to Oliver he wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead his attention was focused on his ratty old shoes. "Yeh don't understand Blair," he mumbled. "I'm tryin' to protect yeh!"

"How so?" I countered.

"I've already told yeh Blair!" He was yelling now too, his face getting closer to mine as he virtually glowered at me. "I'm gonna hurt yeh! An' by tha looks of it I already did! Why do yeh want me? Why would yeh want someone who's gonna rip yeh apart?"

I didn't have an answer for him. Because maybe he was right. Maybe I didn't want someone like him. Maybe the fact he had already put me through so much was warning enough not to get any deeper into this than I already was. Maybe he was trying to protect me. But at the end of the day I still had an endless amount of hope that he would never hurt me. That maybe somewhere deep down inside himself he can find it in him to love me.

Every single girl wants to believe she can change that "bad boy", and they'll be the exception to the rule. It's our maternal instinct to want to help them, to try and change them, to teach them to love. And it's stupid to think you can change someone unless they want to be changed first.

And I wondered if Oliver wanted to be changed.

And I wondered why he was so sure he was going to hurt me.

And I wondered if he really cared about me, or if he was just trying to push me away.

And as I wondered all of these things, he walked away. Because that's what he was really good at.