Hold My Hand As I'm Lowered

"Hey, um, can I talk to you?" Harry looked up from the MacBook on his lap, staring at me a bit. He nodded, and I moved to sit at the seat across from him. I didn't speak, he didn't push me.

"I've got a chemotherapy thing tomorrow," I started to say. "I haven't had much, because we couldn't really afford it, and hey, you don't know me all that well-"

"Whatever you need." He interjected.

"What?"

"I've got money. Too much, in fact. I'm not gonna miss a few thousand, or whatever it costs. I'm not trying to make you like me or, throw money around, but I'll pay for whatever you need. All because I want to. And if you don't want the chemo, then I'll stop paying, sound good?" I nodded when he finished talking. He continued to tap at his laptop as I just sat and stared.

"Thank you." I said quietly, after a few moments of silence.

"No problem"

-

I had gone two weeks without puking. I felt strong, and my vision was so much better, as was my hearing. Then, I ended up back in the bathroom early one morning, pressing my face to the cool tile floor for intervals of twenty minutes before returning my face to the porcelain. I had the door closed, knowing Harry had to be up early. I was too loud, I guess because he came in at around five in the morning.

"Jeez, you're pale." he said.

"More than usual?" My voice was raw, it hurt to try and talk.

"Yeah, more than usual. I've got a scene today, but do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, no, I''m fine. I'm used to it."

"Are you sure? It's really no problem." His voice was genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine" I assured him. "Really, it'll be over with by noon. I'll be fine. I always am"

"Alright, but I'm sending Liam by, in case somethin' happens."

"I've told you, I'll be fine."

"Oh well."

"But-"

"He's got no clue about you bein' sick and all. I'll tell him it's the flu."

I rolled my eyes in surrender. He smiled a bit, rubbing my back a little, and dropping a large bottle of water on the counter, before leaving the room. I pressed it up to my face, the condensation cold against my feverish skin. Later, I threw up. Again. After an hour, Liam showed up. I tried to stay quiet as he pushed my bedroom door open. He soon appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, and I weakly regarded him with a nod. A look a worry crossed over his face.

"Oh, god, you don't look so good."

"Yeah, well, blowing out chunks of your insides really takes a toll on you."

"Oh, I just meant that you look...thin. And pale, but that's probably a family thing.

I nodded a little, and then looked back at my good friend, toilet bowl. I vaguely heard Liam something about getting a blanket for me and making me some food, then leaves. For a while, I was perfectly fine, and I thought I may have been feeling better, that is until I found myself gripping the toilet and dry heaving again and again. There was nothing left in my stomach, just bile dripping over my chin, and it hurt like fuck.

Liam must have heard me because suddenly there was a hand on my back, rubbing small circles. I was a bit confused by the action, but it felt nice, and the heaving eventually stopped until I was just breathing shakily and staring at my reflection in toilet bowl water.

“Maybe we’ll wait on the food,” Liam said.

I nodded in agreement.

He sat down against the sink cupboards next to me, and I glanced at him with tired eyes. He was wearing baggy shorts and a long sleeve green shirt.

“I saw all the dance shoes,” he said. “Are you a dancer?”

“Not anymore,” I replied, letting out a breathy chuckle. "I only brought them along because I figure I might as well try to stay fit."

“Cool! It’s still brilliant that you can actually do that pointe thing. I saw all the books too. Not exactly my cup of tea, but extraordinary that a single person could have that many. Have you read them all? Because Harry's has quite a bit of a collection in his own room. He tends to bug me about reminding him to donate them because he's read them so many times, but when I do he whines about how he hasn't finished some of them."

I didn't know what to answer there. He asked one question, then told me a bunch of other things. With some thinking I reply, “Yes, I have and I still can do the 'pointe thing'."

“Pretty great. It all seems grand. I’d like to watch you work some time.”

“Sounds cool.”

He stayed until I was done heaving my insides, then forced me to get up and come to the kitchen so that I could eat. He made another wonderful lunch, pizza actually made from scratch, and I ate way more than I should have, even if I might have thrown it up later.

He stayed to even watch a movie with me, and I enjoyed the company thoroughly. Back home, I didn’t make friends. I decided that if I were going to die and I didn’t want to hurt too many people. I’ve been lonely though, so I was being being selfish by being friends with Liam. He was just so charming, and damn, he’s still as cute as ever.

I started to fall asleep during the movie, wrapped in a blanket and having messed up dozing dreams. I was a mess that day. My head dipped on his shoulder, but I couldn’t care less. I wondered if my last weeks were going to hurt worse than this.

“You okay?” Liam asked, gently.

“Yeah,” I muttered, pressing half of my face into the warmth of his arm. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

When the movie was done, Liam got a text from Louis saying that they needed him on the set. I was forced to wake up and walk him to the door to show some politeness. He turned around in the hallway, facing me and turning a bit red. He didn't say anything for a moment. Needless to say, it was a bit awkward.

“Spit it out,” I said.

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

“What?”

“Like a date.”

Oh God, he was serious. My mouth was open for a few seconds before I recovered. Then you replied, “No.”

“Oh. Well, that’s all right. Maybe I ask why not?”

His face looked all right, but the crushing sensation he had in his chest was practically tangible. “I’m not living here long,” I said quietly, mentally taking the “here” out of that sentence. “Wouldn’t want to spark anything up and then break it apart when I leave.”

He nodded somberly. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. I hope you feel better.” He gave me that Liam Payne grin of his and waved before going down the hallway for the elevator. I stood there for a long while, thinking it over, partially wallowing in my own self-hatred for doing that to him, then I headed back inside. It was for the best.

-

I saw Louis and Liam off and on the next few weeks when they were at the flat with Dave for work. I talked with the both of them, like I usually do, and Louis made small talk, and Liam was polite about the denied date. What I hated most was that every time I saw him, I started liking him a little more, bit by bit. It would make it so much harder.

The chemotherapy I started up started kicking in, and I found small clumps of the underside of my hair. The nausea got worse for a week, but thankfully, I was keeping more food down. What the doctor calls an “I don’t care attitude” shows up and I stayed in your room all day rereading Catcher in the Rye. If I wasn't doing that, I was going through the older pointe shoes that hadn't reached their limit yet to fix them. I kind of ripped the satiny elastics out of them when I found out the news about my parents. The older pairs' elastics were sewn in like mom used to do for me.

When I was starting to get used to the effects, Harry asked if I wanted to get out of the house and join him on set.

It was busy when I got there, just like in those behind the scene things you see in the movies. When Harry pulled me out of the shiny black car, he shoved a grey beanie over my head and gently slid a pair of wayfarers over my face. He kept a firm hold on my arm, and the next thing I knew, at least five paparazzi members were running up and trying to snap pictures of me.

Despite Harry's attempt at preparing me for them, it’s still pretty shocking. I pulled the soft material of the beanie further down, glad you bought the shades along, and Harry ignored all the questions they’re shot at him. About who I was, and if he purposely ignored me all of my life, if he took me in out of pity, or why he didn’t go to the funeral, and a bunch of other stupid questions that just pissed me off to no extent.

Inside the building, the paparazzi stuck outside, Harry finally let go of my arm. “Sorry about that.”

“Are they always there?”

“Not really. Only when something big having to do with me happens. They’ve been waiting weeks to get a picture of you ever since my stupid agent blabbed that you were coming to town. Fired her. Couldn’t keep her mouth shut about anything.”

I was silently grateful fro him not using me for publicity. He could have said that he saved me or something, that he was such a caring parent or some shit for the media, but he just took me in and kept it casual.

The set was huge, actors and actresses getting their makeup done and camera men walking around to get their equipment set. Dave gave a little point and I followed his finger to see Liam smiling and waving at me. Mentally, I was grinning like a fool, but a kept it contained outwardly by smiling a little. I sat in the back with him, thanking him as he handed you a cup of coffee.

“I’m guessing you take it black like your brother,” he said. “With a shitload of sugar.”

“You know me so well,” I chuckled. “Do you like working for Harry?”

“Oh, yes. He treats me better than my last boss. She worked me like a slave. It’s fun to watch him work, sometimes I go with him to amazing places to shoot special scenes.”

“Like where?”

“Went to New York once. The desert. Lots of beaches and rooftops. Even on giant ships, the whole thing.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“It is!” He sat back in his chair, watching as Harry went over lines with a few of the actors. “That’s Danielle Peazer,” he says, pointing to the tall girl standing next to your brother, dressed in a short skirt and leggings.

“I’ve heard of her. She's a fantastic dancer.”

“Good actress, too. Harry is lucky he got her for this movie. She’s not like other stuck-up actors he hires. She’s really nice...”

I smiled a little recognizing the tone in his voice, and the famous Peazer glances over at me, giving me a wink, and Liam just waved back at her, a reminiscent look crossing over his face as if they were old friends.

"You dated her, didn't you?" I asked, offhandedly. I wasn't jealous at all, just curious. It was obvious, but he showed interest in me, and he has access to girls as beautiful as her. He smiled a little and looked down at the cup in his hands.

"Yeah, but it didn't last long. We were better off as friends, it was a mutual decision to break it off." He replied, leaving it at that.

-

Later, the set is quiet and scenes are shot, and Liam leaned over and whispered, “What are you doing later?”

I shrugged. “’Dunno.”

“We could just hang out if you want. There's a giant bookstore nearby, figure you might have a field day in there.”

I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he assured.

“All right then.”

-

The bookstore is kind of loud, and it’s annoying, but I liked how happy Liam looked when he noticed my excitement. He said a few offhand facts about the store itself, but it was foreign to me. It was a huge fucking bookstore, that's all I knew or cared about.

He handed me a map and I peaked at it quickly, noticing the different areas of the store. They were color coded by genre, and the entirety of the store took up 3 levels. I saw a section titled 'rare books' and immediately pulled him in that direction. I could even feel my face even lift with the happiness.

Once we were up there, after having to make a few stops to find Liam a place to buy The Beatles playing cards that he had found, I felt extremely happy. There were leather-bound first editions of books that cost well into four hundred dollars. There was a book, signed by Richard Nixon, who, from what Liam had told me, was an American President from back in the day. There was even a third printed copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. My eyes were probably as wide as dinner plates when the older woman monitoring the area asked me if I wanted to see it. The price on it was a thousand dollars, which was a bit absurd, but it was in such good condition. The cover was a bit frayed, and the pages were yellowed and frail, but the words were as alive and classic as ever. Liam was looking over my shoulder with a bit of curiosity as I gingerly flipped through the pages.

“You want to hold it?

I looked up to see his look of shock. I turned and held the book out to him, like it was a cupcake or something. And he just laughed and declined, so I handed it back to the woman, thanking her gently before pulling him off to the sections nearby. Eventually, I found a few David Bowie biographies and bought them before Liam took me back to the flat.

-

In the care ride back home, we made simple small talk. Liam was innocently making dirty comments, and I was having too much fun with it.

“Liam, you make sexual jokes way too easy for me.”

“Well perhaps if you didn’t make everything a joke, love!”

“What’s the fun of life if you can’t laugh at it?”

He considered it for a moment then nodded as he stopped at a red light. For a while, I flipped through radio stations before settling on one, just because it was playing a song with a lyric that caught my ear.

I eventually started to feel a bit dizzy, and pushed the seat back a bit into a reclining position. I thought about what I said to him on the way back to Harry’s apartment building, and then I went over my whole life and fast forward it to the moment you’re living right now.

“Hey, Liam?” I said, interrupting his rant about pumpkin pie.

“Yes?”

“What would you do if you had a short time to live? Would you travel and do everything you could? All that skydiving and snorkeling type of shit?”

I looked over at him, seeing that he’s wrinkling his nose in thought. Then he said, “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’d feel more like I was dying then. I’d live life like normal. And I’d also try to spend every minute I could with people I love. Try smiling at everything.” Then he chuckled, “Fall in love.”

“What if you hurt that person more by falling in love with them and then leaving?”

He shrugged, and then glanced away from the road to smile at me. “They’d still hurt as much as anyone if their love died. Right?”

I nodded, slowly. “Yeah.”

-

I spoke a bit more on the way up the elevator, looking out over the city through the glass casing of it. Liam's face lit up as he pointed to different buildings, telling me what they were and also pointed way farther back, telling me that his apartment is farther away, out of the rich area of the city.

“Do you like the city?” I asked. “It’s so cramped.”

“It is, but I like people. My parents died when I was quite young, so I spent most of my life growing up with only my grandmother and her dog. They were my only companions until I moved here a few years ago. I know people get annoyed by how cheery I am, but I’m just happy I get to talk to people. You know?”

It was hard to not fall any harder for him after he said that. A smile lit up his face and I couldn't help but smile back. “Yeah,” I finally said.

On the top floor, Liam walked me to the door, making sure I don't pass out or something because I was still pretty dizzy. At the apartment door, I turned around to face him, staring right in those hazel- green tint eyes. “A date sounds nice,” I said, a shot of confidence shooting through me.

He blushed right away, eyebrows raising. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. Friday?”

“Heh. Oh, yeah, sure! Sure, I can come get you,” he exclaimed happily.

Still riding the high of the confidence boost, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, planting one right on his lips. He tensed in shock, then relaxes right away, one of his hands lying on your waist, innocently. When we parted, I just grinned. “I’ll see you then, Payne.”

“R-right. See ya!”

When I made my way inside inside, Harry is waiting, smirking at me and waggling his eyebrows. I snorted a bit and walked past him, making sure to brush shoulders. “Oh, shut up.”

“Close the door if you end up fucking him! You know I need beauty sleep.”

“I’m going to bed,” I groaned. He would be the one to say that too.

“Alone, I hope!”

“Go to hell, Harry,” I called back, chuckling a bit and still smiling. I didn’t remember the last time I felt that happy.

I was brought back to reality when I found more of my hair sticking to your fingers when I shower that night. And through my fingers, I see every one of my ribs trying to show.