Once in a Lifetime

Five.

Black. The darkest colour, the result of the absence or complete absorption of light. Black was the last thing Zayn ever felt, and now, as Louis sat in the church, it was all he could see. Everybody around him was dressed up in their suits, their black jackets contrasting with the white of their shirts. He looked the same, though. Every single person was there to mourn the death of Zayn, every single one wearing the same colours with the same sad look in their eyes. The room was completely crowded, not a spare seat as far as the eye could see, but Louis had never felt so alone. He was sat right on the edge, Liam on the inside of him, followed by Niall, Johanna, Karen and Geoff. Zayn's family were going to sit on the row in front of them. As Colton Dixon's 'The Other Side' started to play, Louis heard shuffling around him as everyone stood up. He copied them, staring straight ahead as he listened to the lyrics of the song that Zayn's parents had chosen. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, the emotion took over his body as he waited for his best friend to come into view. He felt Liam's hand on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see the brown coffin next to him, Zayn's family trailing behind as tears cascaded down their cheeks. It took everything in Louis not to cry, too.

Once Louis had pretended to join in with a hymn, he watched as Zayn's mum and dad made their way to the front, standing on the podium and looking out at the sea of people there for their son. "As Zayn's parents, we are immensely proud of what he achieved in his lifetime. As many of you will probably remember, he was a rather shy child, usually choosing to sit alone and play with his toy cars or ridiculous number of dinosaurs. But that was Zayn, he had a vivid imagination and nobody else could match it. That was until he started school. We were worried he wouldn't make friends, but within the first week he was coming home smiling, telling us about his best friend who played with him and made him laugh. Louis, you made Zayn the person he was always destined to become, so thank you," Yaser announced, making eye contact with Louis as he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. If only they knew the truth, he thought. If only they knew he was the reason their son is dead. "Over the years, Zayn grew into a fine young man, and I remember when he and Louis opened their results to discover they'd both got into the same university. They were screaming and hugging each other and jumping up and down. Zayn was so excited to become an artist, it was his biggest dream and I know, if he had been given the chance, he would have achieved that." Zayn's dad looked down at the podium, his hands shaking as he turned the page that he was looking to for guidance. Louis could tell he was trying to hold back his tears, and when he looked across to Trisha, Louis' guilt almost became too much to handle.

"Zayn will always be our pride and joy. From the moment he was born, he changed our lives. He loved to laugh, and I know that one day he would have made an amazing father," Trisha sniffled, letting a soft whimper fall from her lips as she mustered the courage to continue talking. "We will always love you Zayn, I'm just sorry we weren't there when you needed us the most. I'm sorry nobody knew how you were truly feeling, and I honestly wish you would have let us change your mind. Mummy and daddy love you, son, and I promise we'll see you on the other side." They stepped down from the podium, both kissing the tips of their fingers and placing them on the coffin as they walked past. Louis looked down at the floor, avoiding the broken faces of his best friend's parents. Suddenly, he heard his name, and his head snapped up as Liam nudged him gently. Louis violently shook his head, trying to convey to Liam that he wasn't ready, that he didn't want to talk. He noticed Trisha turn around, her tears falling down her cheeks as she looked at Louis. "Please?" she whispered, so quietly Louis felt like he was imagining it. "Please, do it for Zayn."

Louis trembled as he stood behind the podium, his hands shaking as he unfolded the piece of paper that had been in his pocket all morning. He hadn't uttered a single word in a week, and now here he was, standing in front of a group of people who loved and cared for Zayn, who missed him more than they could ever explain. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and shuffling nervously. "Uh, hi, hello," he croaked, his voice sounding dry and underused. "I'm, uh, Louis Tomlinson and I was the person lucky enough to call Zayn my best friend. Honestly, I think I forced Zayn to be friends with me. I was a loud, obnoxious kid and Zayn was this, um, this quiet, timid boy who smiled at absolutely everyone. I went over to him, snatching his toy train and telling him that he could only have it back if he was my friend. He agreed instantly, and he actually hugged me and said thank you. His parents may say that I brought out a good side of Zayn, but in all honesty, he was the one helping me. He taught me to be more respectful, to be more considerate and more thoughtful. He told me if he thought I was being an idiot, and he refused to laugh at some of my jokes just so my ego didn't grow too much. So, uh, we'd spend all our free time together and there was never a day that went by without laughter. We'd help each other pull pranks on our families and friends, and, um, we'd always stick together when we got in trouble. As we got older, we never drifted apart. Like Yaser said, we ended up going to Manchester University together, and that was where we met Niall and Liam. Even though it wasn't just the two of us anymore, our friendship continued to grow. Zayn and I grew up together and it hurts to think that I have to do the rest alone. Zaynie, thank you for being my best friend, my brother, and my partner-in-crime. I miss you more than you could ever believe, and I love you more than I could ever tell you. I'd do anything to hear you call me Lou-Lou just one last time, but please know that I will never forgive you for calling me it in the first place. Goodbye, Zayn." Louis could feel the tears in his eyes as he looked up from his notes for the first time. His mum was crying. Liam and Niall were hugging each other. There were sniffles and soft sobs echoing around the room. But for Louis, his eyes were mainly drawn to the front row. Zayn's mum and dad were clinging to each other for dear life. His grandparents were wiping their eyes with their handkerchiefs, squeezing each other's hands for support. His aunts and uncles were dabbing at their eyes too, and his cousins looked down at the floor as they tried to understand what they were feeling. He stepped away from the podium, brushing away his tears and touching the top of Zayn's coffin. His best friend was right there, and it was his fault. When he walked past Yaser and Trisha, they both tearfully smiled at him, Trisha mouthing a silent 'thank you' before he sat down. Liam and Niall both reached over to pat him on his leg, telling him that they were there for him. It didn't make any difference, though. Louis knew it was his fault this was even happening at all.

It took another two days for Johanna to let Louis go back to Manchester. Louis hadn't muttered a single word since the funeral, only using his voice that day because he couldn't stand the idea of hurting Trisha even more than he already had. For two days he moped around Doncaster, visiting the places he had created memories in over the years. He could hear Zayn's laughter in the park, see his face in the sweet shop, and feel his presence everywhere he went. It felt like Zayn's ghost was just following him around, taunting him for all his mistakes. He could remember the days Zayn was at his happiest, but that was beginning to feel like a distant memory.

***

"Put that God-forsaken sketchbook down and play football with meeeee!" Louis whined, rolling the ball between his feet. Zayn was sat underneath a tree in the local playing field, biting his lip as his pencil brushed across the page. Louis, however, was bored of practicing his keepy-ups and wanted his best friend to stop sucking, just for a few minutes.

"Louis, shush, you're ruining the ambience," Zayn replied, not even bothering to make eye contact with the boy in front of him. Louis huffed, kicking the ball in the air before catching it on his back.

"You know, if you actually played with me, I might stop annoying you," he tried, fighting for his best friend's attention. It was either him or the sketchpad, and Louis was determined to win the battle. "I promise, kick with me for half an hour then I'll let you get back to your drawing and I won't bother you again." Zayn sighed, pushing his book off his lap, and looking up to Louis.

"Do you really think I don't know you well enough to know that is a complete lie? I'd play for half an hour, then you'd complain when I sat back down. You'd moan at me until I gave in, eventually closing the book and playing with you until we go home. I know you, Tommo, I know your sneaky little ways." Louis smiled at Zayn, fluttering his eye lashes, and shrugging his shoulders.

"Exactly, so if you know you're going to give in at some point anyway, why can't it be now?" Zayn just rolled his eyes, standing up and motioning for Louis to pass him the ball. As soon as he got it, he picked it up, running in the opposite direction.

"Ha! Now you can't do what you want either!" he called as he kept running, Louis looking on in shock. He started to chase after him, his jeans feeling too tight for this amount of exercise. They were both laughing as they ran and eventually Louis began to catch up with him. He lunged forward, rugby tackling Zayn to the ground as they landed with a thump.

***

That was only five years ago, but to Louis it felt like a lifetime. By the time his mum had hugged him repeatedly, and Niall had driven them back to Manchester, it was already dark. Louis went straight into the bathroom, running a shower and scrubbing himself until he was red. It felt strange coming back to the house knowing that Zayn would never be coming back. Of course, Louis knew that before the funeral, but having said his final goodbye and watching as Zayn's body was lowered into the ground, it all felt so much more real. Zayn wasn't there anymore; he was in Doncaster. He would never leave Doncaster again. Once he had dried his hair, he put on an old band tee and a pair of jeans, stuffing his wallet in his pocket before heading out of his room. He shuddered as he walked past Zayn's closed bedroom door, the last time he had been there haunting him as he looked straight ahead.

"Where are you going?" Liam asked when Louis reached the bottom of the stairs, grabbing his denim jacket from the hook. "You can't keep ignoring us, Louis, we're trying to help you!" Louis could hear the frustration in Liam's voice, but honestly, he didn't care that he was making him angry. Without a word, Louis opened the front door, ignoring Liam's pleas to stay home and talk. He walked the twenty-minute journey into the city centre, heading straight for the first bar he came across. He just wanted to get absolutely smashed and forget about the shit-show that was his life.