english fry up

It’s hot out, which Harry should’ve expected, but it was still a welcoming change from drizzly London, the sun warming his skin. He stepped out the plane, nearly tripping down the stairs with his long boots skimming the ground, ready to exchange for flip-flops, or, even better, no shoes at all. The rest of his band were standing near the rental cars, talking and laughing while slowly stripping from the heavy layers, layers needed in cold England, but no longer needed in sunny tropics.

“It’s hot as fuck,” his love’s airy voice came from the top of the staircase, and he turned to see his boy squinting at the sun, already changed into cargo shorts and a tank top, sunglasses tucked into his collar, his golden skin seeming to come to life, “And bright too. Can someone turn down the sun?” He complained, gracefully coming down the stairs to latch himself against Harry’s side.

“Lou, you have sunglasses on you right now,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he took the glasses and slowly slipped them on Louis’ face, kissing his crinkled nose, “That better?”

Louis nodded, smiling with his head tilted up, “Much,” and brings their lips together softly, a bare trace of kisses to come.

“You all done?” Mitch called to them, breaking their bubble as they look over and see the full band watching them with fond eyes and silly grins, “Some of us want to actually get to the bungalow,”

Louis looked back to Harry, leaning up to wrap his arms around the taller boys neck and pull him into a quick kiss, a mere peck, “Ready, love?”

Harry returned the embrace, arms wrapped around his waist, and pressed their foreheads together, “With you by my side? Always.”


“Did you really make a proper English fry-up when we’re over 4,000 miles from London, and in the middle of a Caribbean paradise?” Louis asked, slowly pulling himself up from where he was spread eagle over their bed, the silk sheets pooling around his waist.

Harry sat down on the bed, across from Louis so they could make faces at each other while eating, and set the tray between them, “The past few days all we’ve had for breakfast is fruit, with the occasional bagel. Thought you could use something greasy,” Harry reasoned.

“Greasier than me, you mean?” Louis replied, taking a huge bite of his eggs, eyes nearly rolling back in his head, “Fuck, forgot how good this is. You fed the rest of the band, right?” He asked, always one to care about others.

“You’re not greasy, love. Just glowing,” Harry shot back, giggling at the pale pink coloring the other man’s cheeks, dodging the piece of bacon lobbed at him, “And yes, I fed the others, can’t have my band starve,” he grinned, and Louis laughed in response, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, a trait Harry was so helplessly in love with.

The two sat in relative silence, eating their breakfast and occasionally sticking their tongues out at each other, sharing giggles while the rest of the band move around the house, the sounds of showers being turned on and off, shouts and laughter. Louis finished his food, and pushed back against the headboard watching Harry slowly eat the rest of his eggs, “What are our plans for the day?” He asked, losing patience after ten seconds of watching him eat.

Harry smiled, and pushed away his plate, standing up to stretch, “Well, I know everyone wants to go swimming, so definitely that first,” he tapped his bottom lip, before breaking into a mischievous smirk, Louis getting a flashback of the 16 year old boy he fell in love with, “Sex On the Beach?” He propositioned with a wink, making Louis laugh.

“The act or the drink?” Louis waggled his eyebrows, both of them bursting into loud laughter when there was an unmistakable retching sound from behind their bedroom door.

“Quit being nosy, Sarah!” Harry yelled, banging on the door, tears in his eyes, smile so bright Louis’ heart felt like it was being clenched, “C’mon, Lou, let’s get dressed,” Harry pulled the smaller man out of bed, Louis feeling no insecurity being naked in front of his lover, twirling him around until they were at their joint dresser, and rifling through the top drawer, “Blue or green?” He asked, holding up two different colored trunks, but with the same striped pattern.

Louis crossed his arms, and gave Harry a look, one he was famous for, a tilt to his hip and one eyebrow raised, “What do you think?” He responded, smiling brightly when he’s handed the green pair, quickly sliding them on and wiggling to fit, laughing as Harry does the same, his long Bambi legs being as difficult as usual.

“Race to the beach?” Harry propositioned, stretching out his legs, and Louis nodded, “Alright, we’ll start at the back door, when I say go, no cheating,” he wagged his finger, and Louis rolled his eyes, but agreed to his terms. As soon as their bedroom door was opened, he shot off like a rocket, laughing at the pounding footsteps of Harry chasing after him.

A few hours passed, and Louis had sand everywhere, his skin was warm and a tad pink looking, a signal for more sunscreen, and his hair was full of salt, but fluffy. He was leaned back, pressed into Harry’s arms, sitting between his legs, as they watched the water, “I’d say today was productive,” Harry said, breaking the silence. Louis tilted his head back to look up at Harry’s face.

“We didn't​ write anything, nor record anything, we just sat on the beach,” Louis pointed out, wondering what Harry meant by “productive”.

“Yeah, but,” he leaned down and kisses Louis’ forehead, “I spent it all with you.” The smaller man cuddled back between his lover’s legs, and closed his eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of the broad chest beneath him, hearing Harry start to hum something familiar sounding, after a few seconds of this, Louis spoke up.

“Are you really humming If I Could Fly at me?” He asked, without opening his eyes, a small smile forming on his face as Harry’s chest starts to shake with laughter.

“Something like that,” he answered, hooking his chin on Louis’ shoulder, “I’m home to you, aren’t I?” Louis giggled sleepily, his voice already starting to sound warmer and gravelly, “I’m gonna miss you,” Harry confessed quietly, tracing slow lazy circles onto the soft skin underneath his fingertips, and Louis swallowed past the lump in his throat, determined for his voice to not choke up.

“A week and a half, Haz,” he tried to speak reassuringly, “We can last that, yeah?” Harry made a low hum sound in the back of his throat, before sighing lightly, the rush of cold hair giving Louis goosebumps.

“I believe,” he started slow, “That we can last forever.” His voice no longer timid at saying something so deep and intimate, knowing for sure that Louis felt the exact same. Their grips tightened around each other, and they laid like that, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, a calmness in the air.


Harry is running off of four hours of sleep, and it’s become noticeable in his song-writing, the theme drifting more towards melancholy, and longing, and breaking free. He also was checking his phone obsessively, something he promised he wouldn’t do the entire time here, vowing to not even turn the thing on. But it felt like as soon as Louis left, his phone never left his hand, waiting for something, a text, a tweet, a selfie on Instagram, just anything so he could remember what his boy felt like.

“H, it’s been four days,” Mitch called him out, after the 20th pause in recording for grown man to race to his phone, “You can’t make it four days without him?”

Harry knew it was meant as a light ribbing, but it hit all the same, that he really can’t last four days without his baby, “I miss him,” he pouted, “I just wish he were back here with me, with us. He deserves a vacation.”

“And he’ll get one once he’s back, H.” Mitch cut in, “Your boy will be back in your arms, you’ll be in your safe area, where you can hide from everything, and spend the time together.” He looked up from where he was doodling on their notebook, smiling kindly, “Won’t that be lovely?”

Harry nodded, knowing Mitch was right, and that he should calm down and wait for Louis to return to him. Pulling the notebook towards him, Harry carefully penned, under the already written words, “We’ve got to get away,” and looked back up to see his guitarist with a sparkle in his eye, and they shared a quick nod, like an unspoken word between the two.

After eight days, Harry was pretty sure his new band hated him. He had penned out quite a few songs in the past few days, some good enough to make the album, but all the same theme. Loneliness, heartbreak, lost love, soulmates, being caged. And they were only words on paper, no actual music for accompaniment.

“Harry, please, two more days,” Clare begged him, “Just two more days, and he’ll be back, you can make it.”

He put his head in his hands, dragging his hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp, “I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this,” Harry apologized, not looking up, “God, I’m pathetic,” he cursed himself, looking up in shock when she hit his arm.

“You are not pathetic, Harold,” she chided him, before smiling, “You are in love. You want your boy here because this is your first solo album, you want him to be here for the adventure, the creation. This album’s a huge part of you, and so is he, so of course you want the two to share a time slot,” she spoke simply, explaining in such an easy way, that it felt like the gears of Harry’s brain just clicked back into place, and started to whirl.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, “Oh, my god, you’re right!” He jumped up from the kitchen table, kissed her on the cheek, and raced down the hall, slamming into the recording studio, surprising Mitch out of his seat where he was casually strumming, “I need a guitar, and a pen.” He ordered, and Mitch looked surprised for a second, before getting a steely look in his eye.

“Damn right, you do,” he grinned, and Harry felt the tug at his own lips.

It’s day ten, nearly day eleven, and Harry was laying in bed alone. The last time he talked to Louis was two days ago, where he just had to call and tell his boy all about the new song they were recording, a song about New York and talking to walls, and Louis was excitedly shouting back into the phone. The two giggled like children, and hanging up was the most difficult thing, but they knew that in two more days there would be a reunion, and that’s all the encouragement they needed to get back to their schedules.

Only now, it was nearly midnight, and Harry was still in a half empty bed. Louis didn’t give a specific time on when he was going to be back, just that it was probably going to be late. The band had tried to convince Harry to stay up and watch a movie with them, a cheesy rom-com knowing how much it would entice him, but he denied, instead choosing to stare at his ceiling and wait. The window was open, and the rushing of waves had lulled him into a near sleeping state, the air slowly cooling the later it got into the night, crickets chirping and sounding like they were on his windowsill.

“Harry! Get outta bed, we need you!” One of the members (Harry was so sleepy he couldn’t remember whose voice it was) yelled from the front room, making him groan and slowly pull himself from the bed, ready to stomp out and throw a tantrum at them for interrupting his near-nap.

He threw open the door, opening his mouth to yell back, when a body collided into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. The smell of sunshine and cologne filled his nostrils, and he felt his eyes almost instantly tear up, which he quickly tried to blink away as he wrapped his arms around the small curvy body he knows almost as well as his own, “They may need you, but I need you more,” Louis’ raspy voice felt like music to his ears, a gentle laugh escaping his mouth as watery blue eyes met his, “Are you crying? Come on, it’s not that big of a deal.” Louis teased, knowing full well his own eyes were wet. Harry ran his fingers across the slight bags under his lover’s eyes, wiping away the tears and kissing him softly on the mouth.

“I just missed you,” he explained, pulling back to rest their foreheads together. Louis grinned widely at him, his eyes crinkling, and they kissed again, ignoring the cheers from the living room.


“You’re a messy drunk, Harold. I’m not going to clean up after you if you make a mess,” Louis warned, his boy already a little buzzed, his voice lower and warmer, dimples on permanent prominent display. The band had decided after nearly two months of recording, they wanted to get massively drunk and throw a bonfire on the beach, inviting some of the local friends they made. A whole bottle of tequila later, they were all dancing in the sand, running away from the waves and screaming when the water touched their ankles.

“You’ll still take care of me, and yoooooou know it” Harry drawled, giggling when Louis shook his head with a fake exasperated sigh.

“The things I do for you,” he teased, lacing their fingers together and using his shoulder as an armrest.

“Can we go swimming?” Harry asked after a few seconds, looking down at Louis with his bright green eyes that were hard to say no to.

“Sure, baby,” Louis gave in, “Just take off your shirt so it doesn’t get wet,” he instructed, laughing when Harry nodded solemnly, but started to slowly strip while wiggling his hips, which Louis copied, till both their shirts were in a pile at their feet, the two left only in their swim trunks. They raced toward the sea, always a competition, attracting the attention of their friends, who quickly followed after, till it was just a large group of adults splashing each other, the moon reflecting off the water, leaving everything shiny and radiant. Distantly, Louis heard one of the girls shrieking as she was carted over and dropped in the freezing water, still in her dress, “You fucker!” She yelled at the guy, presumably her boyfriend from the way he was looking at her, but she spoke with no malice, and quickly was overcome with giggles, everyone joining in, as the waves crashed around them.

“Let’s all get warm by the fire!” Sarah called, to everyone’s agreement, and quickly they all fled the cold water and sped over to where their fire was roaring, sparks flickering towards the sky.

“Now my dress is all wet,” the girl frowned, and Louis turned to see Harry holding out his own shirt and pants to her, a small grin on his face.

“Switch!” He laughed, and the girl didn’t hesitate to pull off her dress and hand it over, accepting the large shirt and pulling it on, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Harry, you’re huge, I don’t think that dress is gonna fit you…” Louis told him hesitantly, watching as he pulled the collar over his head, looking vaguely tangled.

His green eyes popped out, fire dancing in his eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll fit like a glove,” he tugged, slipping his arms through the sleeves, and pulling the fabric down till it just barely reached his mid-thigh, “See? Perfect!” Harry exclaimed, smiling at everybody’s cheers, doing a little twirl to show off.

“If you say so, love,” Louis shook his head lightly, knowing that the dress was probably going to split sometime tonight and they’d have to buy the poor girl a new one.

“Everyone! Pick up your shot glasses, because I propose a toast!” Mitch’s voice boomed, making everyone scramble to grab their glasses from where they were left on towels, while Mitch walked around pouring a bit of vodka, that he got from God knows where, into each little cup, before going back to his original spot and holding his drink forward, “To new friends!” He cheered.

“To making memories!” Sarah interjected, earning a cheer herself.

“To making this album,” Harry spoke up, voice quiet and smile kind.

Louis leaned forward, gathering the attention on himself, “And to Harry Styles,” he spoke firmly, looking at his boy, hoping to convey all the love, pride, and adoration he could with only one look.

“To Harry Styles!” Everyone chorused back, and Louis saw the fire reflecting off the tears forming in Harry’s eyes, as they all clinked their glasses together.

The two pulled each other close, an arm wrapped around their bodies, fitting as they were always meant to, always supposed to. “To home,” Harry said quietly, a toast meant only for LouisandHarry.

“To home,” Louis repeated, and they clinked their glasses together, a beautiful sound on a beautiful night.

Destiny 2 Live Action Trailer - Different Languages and Foods

I think I got all the language edits:

In Italian and Russian there is Lasagna
In German there are Bratsburgs and something else with a lot of ketchup…
In French there is Salami/Sausage and Tartiflette
In UK-English there is Tea, Fry-up, comfy slippers and Sunday Roast

Also, in ES-Spanish Cayde call the ramen “Chinese noodles soup” … really? We know what is ramen okay?? (Said the angry Spanish hunter who eats ramen once a week cause Cayde)

Did I miss any detail worldwide guardians??

realityruinedmylifeandstuff  asked:


Lashes fluttering in the light of dawn, Zayn tugs on the covers and rolls over, instinctively reaching out beside him. After a minute of haphazard searching, he opens his eyes to find Liam’s side of the bed is empty. Zayn smiles to himself at the sight of the small candy cane Liam left there instead.

He’s puzzled by the silence but realizes it must be early and everyone is still sleeping. Zayn grabs his phone off the nightstand and squints at the ungodly hour. He spots texts from Harry, and Jawaad. He debates sleeping a bit more when suddenly the bedroom door crashes open and three little blurs appear, leaping forth as if on springs.

“ABBA!! ABBA!!!! ABBAAAA!!!!! It’s Christmaaaas!!!!!!”

He’s suddenly engulfed by children, a tangle of pyjamas and dark hair. Zayn is laughing trying to catch his breath and keep them all from toppling off the mattress. Their eldest Wally, leans forward, with a serious expression and whispers:

“Abba, guess what? I think Santa came.”

Suddenly Ari’s head pops up from the covers shouting excitedly over the clamor.

“He did come!! He did! I peeked and saw all the presents but Daddy said I can’t open anything until everyone is up, so let’s GO. COME ON..”

Ari was always the most rambunctious of their children, taking after his Godfather Louis in far too many ways.

Finally Zayn waves his hands in mock surrender

Alright, alright I’m coming, let’s go see then!”

The two boys jettisoned off the bed and bounded down the stairs while Zayn pulled on a tshirt. It’s one of Liam’s, it smells woodsy with the faintest hint of mint soap. He breathes deeply and smiles.

He turns to the door to find Ameera waiting with wide eyes clutching her stuffed tiger.

“Y’ready princess?’ Zayn coos.

She nods, grinning and he scoops her up planting little kisses all over her cheeks and makes his way downstairs.

He finds Liam in the kitchen with his Mum. He sets Ameera down and she tears off after her brothers. 

Keep reading

the first time Antoine Triplett gets really drunk with the team, he wakes up carefully tucked into his bunk with Advil and a glass of water on his nightstand and the first word’s out of his mouth are “What the hell is happening right now?”

because Trip is used to drinking with the Ops guy, and because Trip is an utter lightweight, he’s pretty much used to waking up naked in a field with a massive hangover like one out of every four times they went out. The number of Ops guys with videos on their phone of Trip doing something weird while drunk is staggering. He is not used to waking up in his bed with a not earth shattering hangover and Advil waiting for him.

so he stumbles out to the lounge and Fitzsimmmons are there, drinking tea and talking, and Simmons is making as close to a proper English fry-up as she can with what they have on the Bus and Fitz is sitting at the counter (because Fitz is a disaster when allowed anywhere near a stove), and Trip is like um hi I woke up in my bunk and I don’t even feel like I’m going to die and I’m not sure what is happening what happened last night?

and they’re just like you and Skye and Coulson got super drunk last night and even Simmons got a little tipsy and then we made you guys drink two glasses of water each and made sure you got to your bunks and Trip is like so you guys didn’t decide to let me sleep on the floor and draw stuff on my face and then make fun of my raging hangover the next morning while you laugh at the videos you took of me? and Fitzsimmons just look at him baffled um you’ve saved our lives like three times in the field in the last month alone the least we could do is make sure you got to bed all right because it turns out you have to alcohol tolerance of a six week old baby

and Trip is kind of touched by this because he’s gotten used to taking care of people but not really being taken care of himself and TripFitzSimmons sort of have a moment until Skye bursts into the room, complaining about her hangover and telling Trip that she has some great video of him lying on the floor whispering ‘wenis’ to himself over and over again and giggling and Trip asks why Fitzsimmons can resist the urge to take video of him but Skye can’t

and Skye is like please it is my right as a middle child and when Fitzsimmons try to remind Skye that they are technically older than she is she just goes shhh science babies just accept it you are clearly the youngest in this family and that’s when Coulson and May walk into the room in time to see Fitz throw a piece of toast at Skye and Coulson demands that they knock off their shenanigans until he has at least had coffee and then they sit down to family breakfast and it is exactly as adorable as you think it is

There's No Such Thing as Jaiden

Moving to university was the best decision I’ve made. I love my flat mates: Tina, Mal, Ollie and Steph and me (Dane). There’s supposed to be 6 of us but the student dropped out last minute which worked out great for us because we each have more room in the fridge in our shared kitchen. For the 2 months we’ve been here everything has been perfect. Of course, things had to change.

Last weekend I went home for a few days to see family, when I got back I was super excited to see my flat, especially because it was Tina’s birthday! So when I came in they were all sat in the kitchen drinking and playing cards. I rushed to my room, got Tina’s present a bottle of Jack Daniels and joined my friends. In the centre of our kitchen is a round table with 6 chairs, usually there’s only 5 out but I didn’t think as to why there were six. I sat down next to Tina who was dealing the cards for a game of poker. I gave her her present, greeted the others and pured a drink when Ollie said:

“Dane, you’re gonna have to move round here, Jaiden was sitting there.”

I raised my eyebrow. Who was Jaiden? I moved and asked the group who he was. They all looked at me funny. Steph hissed:

“Stop being rude, I know you two don’t get on but you can’t just pretend like he isn’t here. He’s part of the flat too!”

This threw me. I didn’t have any enemies at uni, I wasn’t there long enough to have enemies. The game continued and conversation began. I kept my eye on ‘Jaiden’s’ chair but no one sat there. If he wasn’t coming back then why was it an issue that I sat there in the first place. By this point I was too involved with the game to care. I was winning and once that started there was no stopping me.

As the night went on we sang Happy Birthday to Tina about 3 times and drunk more and more. The next thing I remember was waking up in my bed with dry mouth and a head ache. The strap of my watch had created funny imprints on my cheek and my face was sore. I didn’t plan on getting out of bed until I smelt bacon, that was my signal to go to the kitchen. When I got there my flat mates were all sat with plates filled with bacon, sausages, beans, toast, eggs.. the works! A proper English fry up to cure my hangover would go down a treat.

I took mine from the microwave and sat down at the table 5 out 6 seats were filled. As I felt sorry for myself over my breakfast I noticed the time was 9:15, my lecture had started 15 minutes ago and there was no way I was going to it now.

“Which one of you beauties made the breakfast then?” I asked.

Mal spoke up, slurping his tea.

“Jaiden. He got up early to make us all a hangover cure then went to the lecture you’re supposed to be at.”

“My lecture? Why’s he going to that?”

“Because he’s on your course….”

Clearly my friends were keeping up this charade and I wasn’t going to fulfil their childish need to have me kick off asking about Jaiden. So I played along.

“Yeah, I know that but what I meant was, why did he go there? It’s boring as hell anyway.”

The rest of the morning was spent lounging about, annoying Steph about the 4 guys and 1 girl she was seeing. The same as everyday. That afternoon I was watching Netflix when a knock came to my door. A sharp single knock and then paper was slid under the crack in the door. I was expecting a friend at 4:30 but when I looked at my watch it was only 3. I got out of bed to look at the paper and it was my lecture notes with a post it on the front:

“Here’s what you missed today. Got an essay due for Jon, Friday. If you need help go see him in his office. - Jaiden”

I laughed and opened my door expecting to see Mal and Ollie there pissing about but no one was there. I saw the door at the end of the hall close just as I opened mine. The door that belonged to the drop out student so had never actually been moved into. We need keys to get into our rooms so it wasn’t any of the others.

I was bewildered but curious. So, I strolled down the hall with the papers in my hand a knocked on the door, loudly. No answer. I began to pund on the door this time. Shouting Jaiden’s name. No answer. I chuckled and walked away.

That night was my turn to cook dinner. Spaghetti bolognese. My speciality. I cooked it and dished it out, 5 plates for the five of us.

“What about a plate for Jaiden?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well Jaiden isn’t here is he? If he wants some he’ll have to plate it up for himself.”

“That’s a bit out of order mate” Ollie said. “You know he has physio on mondays.”

Physio? They’ve really perfected this.

“Fine. I’ll plate some for Jaiden. Put it in the microwave. Think it’ll be okay for him there?”

The others stayed silent. Dinner was awkwardly silent that night and I wasn’t interested in giving them the satisfaction of my frustration. I washed my dish and went to my room without saying a word. An hour later I got up to use the bathroom. I stood in the hall waiting for Steph to finish and played around on my phone. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something. It was a figure, a human figure. A man. He was stood outside the empty room. My head spun up and my eyes locked onto… nothing. There was nothing there.

A couple of days later things had grown tense in the flat. No one was talking to me and vice versa. I’d had enough and one night stormed into the kitchen and just came out with it.

“I hate how this has turned out. Yeah it was funny at first, me being gone for the weekend and you guys making up this Jaiden person to fool me but I’ve had enough. You’ve taken it too far and I just want my flat mates back.”

Mal stood up.

“What joke? You were the one who came back home and completely pretended Jaiden didn’t exist. Do you know how bad that must be? I know you two clashed but completely ignoring someone’s existence is what can drive people to suicide!”

Thing started to get heated between Mal and I, by this point I was stood looking at the floor when a figure, the same figure came and stood next to me. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. Only, when I looked up, nothing. No one was there. There was silence in the kitchen, until Steph spoke:

“Mal and Dane are arguing.”

I raised my head again and went to talk when she spoke again.

“Because of you. Because of the way Dane’s been treating you.”

I spoke up.

“Who the fuck are you talking to, Steph?”

“Really Dane? You’re still gonna pretend like Jaiden doesn’t exist when he’s stood right there?!”

That was it I’d have enough. I stormed out of the kitchen and slammed my room door shut. I could hear the others talking about me and now I was done.

I don’t know what happened to them over the weekend, why they decided that this was a joke they were gonna carry on and make me feel bad about for not complying with their need to humiliate me but I was done. The next morning I requested a transfer to different halls.

As I was packing my stuff Tina came into my room. She was asking me to stay to sort things out but I wasn’t interested. As she was talking I saw the door to the empty room move behind her head. Of course when I looked right at it it was shut, the same way it had been since September. Tina turned and waved at thin air and then came back to talking to me. I rolled my eyes. I looked down at my watch to see what time it was, I wanted to be moved out by 5 and Tina was wasting my time.

“Dane, you said last week that after your argument with Jaiden that he was nothing to you and you weren’t even going to acknowledge his existence. Now I get-”

“Wait, what argument?”

“The argument you had about your missing watch. You said you’d left it in the kitchen and that Jaiden was the last person in there. You basically persecuted him there and then. You told us all that you were gonna forget about him and never talk to him again. Like he didn’t exist”

“Tina that’s ridiculous, I’ve got my watch-”

I looked down at my wrist and noticed it wasn’t there. My watch wasn’t on my wrist. The watch that I remember looking at 5 minutes ago. The watch that made funny marks on my face monday morning. The watch.. the watch that I took off on Thursday of the previous week when I was making pizza. That I left on the side and then went to a party…. to a party with Jaiden. It was so surreal, out of the corner of my eye I was the figure again. I looked at it this time and there he was. Jaiden was stood there. Tall, blonde and really skinny. He looked awkward as I stared at him.

It was like I was seeing him for the first time. Thhen I remembered when he was stood at the door when I was waiting for the toilet, I looked at him and he saw me, he waved but I just looked right through him as though he wasn’t there. Because he wasn’t there! He’d never been there.

But he had. He’d been there all along. I remembered helping him and his mum move his stuff up the stairs. Going on course nights out with him. Helping each other with essays.

I’d completely forgotten about him. He wasn’t even a memory, he was non-existent.