Cold As You

I stared blankly at my computer screen, checking for new emails, seeing what the media was saying about me today, but ultimately waiting. Louis said we could Skype at ten tonight, but it was now quarter past ten, and I was getting impatient. It seems as if ever since the boys absolutely exploded, they’ve had less and less time for the little things. To be honest I didn’t really expect it from the other boys, but Louis was my best friend since he was three years old. We met during a hospital stay, he was in hospital after almost cutting his finger of while opening a can of baked beans while I was there to have my appendix out. We were inseparable, inseparable until he and the band went over to the USA, there he had fame, girls and Justin Timberlake. It was like he practically dropped off the face of the earth. He wouldn’t text unless I text him first, he would never call and the occasional Skype was organised by me. Being forgotten about hurt me, I lived in London, and saw my family once every few weeks, he was all I had, and now he was gone. I poured myself another shot – vodka of course, my drink of choice.

I had become such a stereotype, and it disgusted me. A teenage musician, falling victim to the vices of alcoholism, poor little rich girl can’t handle the pressures of fame, if only that was true. I was an idiot. I was the type of person who enjoyed being an introvert; I loved staying home alone and to be honest, thought I was way too good to spend time with those who invited me out. “I’ve come down with a virus” “I have to do something for work” I came up with every excuse until those people stopped calling. At first I didn’t mind, I actually enjoyed being seen as exclusive, unattainable. I had my select group of friends, all five of them, we hung out together; we went out together, when we walked past people whispered. We were the VIPs, we always got the best tables, we lived the high life. However, this was before they blew up, before they became the hottest thing on the planet since Justin Beiber. I guess what I’m trying to say is that their fame, the pandemonium that was currently surrounding them was fleeting, but that didn’t stop them from forgetting about me as soon as someone/something better came along.

“Georgie, are you there?” Louis suddenly appeared on screen.

“Where else would I be” I replied sarcastically.

“I-I don’t know, out or something, isn’t it Saturday night over there, why aren’t you out partying, I didn’t really expect you to be here online?”

“Likewise” I snapped. I just loved how he had all of a sudden turned up on screen and felt the need to lecture me about not being out, how it was unusual for me to be online. No apology, heck, he had probably forgotten that we had even planned to talk, he probably clicked onto this conversation by accident.

“Listen, I can’t stay on for long-”

“Of course you can’t’” I snapped.

“Georgie, what’s the problem? I am here? I am talking to you? I have taken time out of my day, which mind you is pretty god dam packed right now to sit down here, when I could be out with the rest of the boys, or even sleeping considering I’m running on less than two hours of sleep a night. Yet you’re sitting here all high and mighty acting like it’s an honour for me to be in your presence.”

“What? An honour to be in my presence? You’re the one who just informed me of how difficult it was to choose between sleep and me, when I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour” I shouted.

“Its not my problem you have nothing better to do with your time.

That comment cut deep “I think you’ve been spending too much time away, you need someone to bring your cocky ass back to earth” I replied coldly.

“Gees Georgiana, you know I really can’t be bothered with this.”

“Of course you can’t” I said, taking another drink “You have a much more exciting life to lead”

“Actually I do, I don’t have to be here talking to you, a washed up alcoholic with nothing in front of her. Here’s an idea, how about you start writing that second album of yours, how long have we been waiting for it now? Two years?”

“Fuck off Louis, at least I write my own music”

“Ohhh, aren’t you so fucking unique, mate, I’m not putting up with this shit”

“Fine! Don’t!”

The screen went black, and almost as soon as he had arrived, Louis was gone. This was what we were like, best friends yet an infuriating mix of short tempers and touchy personalities. We got along incredibly well as we were practically the same person. However that was also the problem, we were equally as aggressive, as defensive, as argumentative and therefore arguments like these weren’t uncommon, in fact, they happened quite regularly. We had a love, hate relationship, the type that sent each other a stupid text message the next day and all problem were hushed over. We never discussed our fights as we knew that would just fight even more, until we could no longer remember what we fought about in the first place. It was just better to act like we had never fought at all.

That’s why it was so strange how I took everything he said to heart that night. He was always like that but for some reason everything he said to me hurt twice as much as it usually would. Perhaps it was the alcohol, maybe I was tired but either way, I had never felt that hurt before in my life. For the first time ever I knew I had absolutely no one. I finished off what was left of my drink, took a couple of sleeping pills (it was absurd how easy they were to get a hold of) and curled up waiting for sleep to envelop me.