Chapter Text
Sigmund Freud said: "If you want to keep up with life, you should be ready to accept death" I do not agree. He is wrong. I have accepted death and I'm still not keeping up with life. - Harry
"Aaaah, Louis!"
A high scream echoes in the room and my sweaty body falls on the mattress. I roll on my back staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. That was fucking good. Kristy, Sara, Lucy, whatever her name is, this was another fling. Another girl among so many others.
"What time is it?
Without giving her time to respond I grab her wrist and look for her watch.
"Fuck!"
3 P.M, this is a fucking joke. I get up suddenly and look for my clothes thrown everywhere in the room. As I dress, I listen to her useless moaning.
"I have to be in class in five minutes, where the fuck is my shoe?"
"You'll call me?"
"No way."
And then there's always the same insults. I ignore it, out of habit. I try to fix my hair. I give up because that's just a waste of time. I gather my things around. "You bastard."
I sigh, exasperated, in front of the door.
"Hey, listen… Kirsten…"
"It's Eleanor!"
"Yeah, yeah Eleanor, that was cool, you're quite good a this but this is it, I'm not searching for…"
I just have time to crouch down to avoid the lamp she's throwing at my face. I look at her, gaping. Well, that just keeps getting better! I just cannot stop myself to let out an ironic laugh while I see all of the little shattered pieces of the lamp falling on the ground.
"Okay, I see, have a nice day too."
And I leave the room as she screams.
I take a deep breath. She's so crazy. I can't help myself but smile before glancing at my phone. Shit, I'm twenty minutes late. I just have to run now. Classes started only three weeks ago and
I haven't once been able to show up on time. It's in these moments I realise that the campus is huge. I arrive out of breath in front of my classroom. The door opens and someone shoves me, I shout:
"Hey watch out!"
Putting my hands on my knees, I stand back up trying to catch my breath and I just have time to see a mass of curly hair disappearing in the hallway.
"Can’t you say sorry mate?"
Quite obviously no because he doesn't turn around.
"Asshole."
I put my shirt back and I pass my hand through my hair before entering the room. I hear my teacher say.
"Oh, it seems that Mr Tomlinson does us the honour of his presence."
I roll my eyes and I let myself fall on one of the benches. That's always the same game, I thought that after high school, teachers didn't pay attention anymore to their students. Being the son of one of the most powerful sponsors of the university is a game-changer. Barely placed, I take out my laptop and log in to the discussion website of the campus.
I hardly listen to what's the teacher is saying. New messages, new numbers, some insults, some party’s invitations in the middle of this mess, a mail catch my attention
✉ What would you do if you only had 100 days left?
No signature, no name. I search for the profile but I can't find anything, no pictures, no description, no info. Only an empty page and the pseudonym "Someone". I hesitate for a few seconds before answering.
✉ I don't know… Live I suppose. I'd try to live.
And I wait. I stare at my screen, fingers playing with the keys, but nothing, no answer.
♠
12 days have passed now and I got into the habit of sending a stupid message every day with a countdown. I've never had an answer and I don't know why I'm still doing this but their question troubled me. I can't help but imagine bullshit. Maybe this person wants to kill themselves in a hundred days. I don't fucking know.
✉ 88.
I stare at my laptop for almost 10 minutes ignoring the cafeteria’s agitation around me. I finally press send and look up to find the same guy as last time, the one who had shoved me in the hallway, throwing someone else’s food tray on the ground. He looks angry. Everybody looks at them but I'm too far to understand what they're saying. It seems tense.
"Hey mate!"
Liam makes me jump; I didn't even hear him come. I cast a glance at him and quickly look again at the scene in front of us, to see Mr Curly violently shoving the poor guy onto the floor and disappearing in the back of the room.
“Don’t pay attention to him.”
Liam pulls me out of my thoughts for the second time today.
“What’s his problem?”
I finally let the door out of my sight to look at Liam who just shrugs.
“I don’t know, people say he’s crazy. We don’t care, are you still coming to the party tomorrow night?”
I grab the flyer he’s giving me.
“Yeah sure, I don’t want to miss that”
“Great! I have to go I have a lesson in 5 minutes, see you later?”
“Yeah, see you.”
He disappears as quick as he came. I wave at him watching him leave the cafeteria and I don’t know why but I glance at the door by which Mr I-shove-people-down went out. I stay a little while staring at the door before shaking my head and leaving.
♠
✉ 71.
And I click on send. Lying on my bed, my laptop on my belly, I scroll all up to all the messages and read all the numbers. I lost all my hopes of an answer and as I go to close the chat, a message appears. They answered. My eyes widen, I can’t believe it. I straighten myself on the pillows and hesitate a few seconds before clicking on display. As if I waited too long and I didn’t want to believe that I had an answer. I end up opening it.
✉ What are you doing?
✉ The countdown.
✉ Why?
✉ What’s going to happen in 100 days? In 71 days, I mean.
✉ Nothing.
I don’t move for a while like an idiot watching my screen without knowing what to say. The first thing I want to do is insult them Twenty-nine days since I’m waiting for an answer and I only have “nothing”, that’s too easy. But before I have the time to answer anything, I see that they are not online anymore. “SHIT” I throw my laptop on the ground out of frustration and I turn off the lights. I won’t let go so easily.
♠
A pen tucked behind my ear and a lot of books in my arms I wander in the library to find a place to study, cursing myself for not staying in my room to study. Almost every place is taken. I have the choice between a blondie chewing gum and popping a bubble every ten seconds and Mr I-Shove-Everyone who has sat alone at a table, reading a book. I think a few seconds, I need to study and Miss Universe cleavage may distract me. I huff, frustrated letting myself fall on the chair in front of him.
“Hi.”
No reaction, he doesn’t even look up from his book. Ok, we will do politeness another time. I open my books and begin to study. Workers’ rights, nothing more annoying than that. I can’t help but squint at him, he looks passionate about the book he’s reading. How can he do this? I’ve only read three pages and I already have a headache. I huff loudly but still nothing; he’s still focused on his book. Or, he’s ignoring me. I get back to work, playing with my pen which hit the table frantically. Feeling a small move in front of me, I look up to see that even if his head is still hanging low, I can guess his gaze is on my hand. I raise an eyebrow; oh, it looks like we can react after all. I find it funny; I stare at him still toying with my pen. He grits his teeth.
“Do you have a problem?”
Once again, he doesn’t answer nor looks at me. He gets up, abruptly close his book and then leave. What the fuck?! I watch him walk away. This guy has some serious issues.
“Asshole.” – Harry