Fix You

When the stack of mail is dropped onto the table in front of him, Liam stares at it. He is tired and cranky from the boys’ 24/7 antics. He reaches for the first envelope, flipping it over to the back and sliding his finger under the seal. The letter inside is thick and looks handwritten, and curiosity spikes his mind. He unfolds the letter twice, noting the address at the top: Libya.

Liam is sure he doesn’t know anyone in Libya, unless maybe it was a long lost cousin or other relative he didn’t know. But when Liam continues reading, noting the seal that is faded into the paper, and sees that the letter is addressed to someone named ‘Finley,’ he realizes he should stop reading. Clearly this letter wasn’t meant for him. His interest won over him and he pushes the nagging guiltiness out of his mind as he starts to read.



Liam puts the letter down, rubbing his eyes. He feels awful for reading the letter. It was so personal. The letter had tugged at his heart strings and Liam knew then that he had to do something about it.

He flips the envelope over and reads the name printed neatly on the front.



Liam couldn’t help the snort that came out of his mouth. He knew the area well. In fact, the expensive residences were only a few minutes away from his home in Westminster. It is a place where the rich indulge in the real estate market, to say the least. He grabs a new envelope out of a cabinet and places the letter inside it, sealing it with a quick lick of his tongue. He scribbles the person’s name on the front of it and sticks it in his pocket.

Liam stands. He knows that he must return the letter to its rightful owner immediately. He pulls on his leather jacket as Zayn shouts questions at him from across the room. He just shrugs when Liam doesn’t answer him. As Liam approaches the front door, he murmurs that he’ll be back later, and that Zayn can stay as long as he wants.

It’s a hot day and Liam isn’t sure why he grabbed his jacket. Maybe it was just out of instinct. As he walks down the sidewalk he peels the jacket off and tosses it into his car. He locks the doors to the sleek car but doesn’t get in. It’s too nice out to be driving.

Liam is quiet on his walk, not that he has anyone to talk to. His phone is in his pocket but it’s turned off for the rest of the day. Other than Zayn and himself, the lads were supposed to be going out to their families’ homes for a few days. Liam needed the quiet anyways, and it’s a relaxing turn of events for him.

He stops at the Starbucks on Brompton Road, ordering his usual iced coffee. As he waits, Liam can’t help but wrap his hand around the letter in his pocket. It seemed to be weighing heavier in his pocket, but maybe that was because he was feeling guilty for reading it.

He scans the quiet coffee shop, smiling at the barista who takes his order. She is a pretty blonde with faded green eyes and slightly pouty lips. She is quiet as she asks him how he is and if his day has been alright. Clearly the woman isn’t from around London. She has a Boston accent that he finds to be a nice change. Liam is gracious that maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t know who he is, and that’s why she isn’t making a big deal of him being in there. Liam thanks her with another smile as he takes the coffee from her outstretched hands. His eyes wander down to where she is clutching the coffee, noticing the dark tattoo inscribed on her wrist. It is a symbol he has seen many times before: an eagle sitting on top of a globe with two halves of an anchor on either side.

Liam shakes off the familiarness and thanks her once more, feeling awkward now.

Once he’s received his coffee, Liam feels a little calmer. Maybe he can explain to the owner what happened and they won’t be angry with him for reading it. It was a mistake after all. Well, it had been until he saw the name. Then it was just being nosy. Liam shakes his head and runs a hand through his slightly tousled hair. It was starting to grow back from his earlier buzz cut.

Finally Liam reaches the apartment building listed on the envelope. He enters the modern buildings with a shiver, feeling suddenly nervous. Clearly this person was of some important status and certainly had the money to pay for such a place.

Liam heads for the silver elevator, pushing the top floor’s button. Once he reaches the floor Liam adjusts his shirt and jeans, hoping that he doesn’t look half the mess he feels. When the doors open, Liam is met by a small hallway. There are two doors, one to the right and one to the left. Directly across from the elevator is a cushioned bench with a modern painting hung above it.

He marvels in the building’s simple, but fancy styling. Liam pulls the envelope out of his pocket and double-checks the address. The door to the right is the correct door so he knocks quickly on the door.
He waits a few moments before knocking again. It is completely silent in the hall and it is starting to weird him out.

“Er, Finley?” he calls out somewhat loudly.

There is still no answer. Finally Liam hears a door unlocking, though it is not the recipient of the letter’s. No, it is the door to the left of the elevator. A gingerly looking elder woman steps out, clad in pajamas. She is smiling, her white hair curled to her shoulders.

“Do you need some help young man?” she asks gently.

Liam nods, “I’m looking for a uh, Finley Brick.”

The woman’s face lights up and she lets out a little laugh. “Oh, you must be Ron! You’re here a bit early, aren’t you? She’s not home from work yet dear.”

Liam shakes his head, laughing softly.

“No, I’m not Ron. My name is Liam. I have a letter for her. It came to my house so I thought I would bring it on over since I’m not too far away.”

A mischievous smile appears on the woman’s face and she steps further out of the door frame. She waves Liam over to the bench and sits next to him on it.

“Where abouts are you from Liam? We’ve never had a problem with the mail here.”

“I live in Westminster ma’am. On Downing.”

The woman hums and nods. “Of course. Nice area.”

Liam agrees silently and the two sit in silence for a few moments. The woman begins to talk to him, making the awkward small talk that two strangers usually do. He checks his watch casually, noticing that it is almost four fifteen. He has been talking for almost fifteen minutes now.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh dear, just call me Rose,” the woman interrupts, sparkling teeth glinting in the lights above them.

“Rose,” Liam mumbles, “What time does Finley get out of work?”

“Sweetie she gets out at four but I know she had somewhere to stop on her way home so she’ll probably-”

Rose gets cut off by the almost unnoticeable ding of the elevator. A smile lilts over her face and she stands up suddenly, so Liam feels that he has to, too. Liam stands and looks to the elevator, the envelope clutched even tighter in his grasp.

To his surprise, the girl stepping out of the elevator is the barista who made his drink at Starbucks.