Chapter 10: Louis and Harry go through a war

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"Rose! Rose what's wrong?" Harry yells, pounding his hand on my bedroom door.

"Just go away!" I yell even though he can't hear me through the pillow. One Tweet. That's all it took to make me crack. I just want to go back, back to the way things were before the fire. Back when I didn't have to worry about people sending messages saying how weird I am and how I don't deserve them as my new brothers.

The lock clicks and Harry walks tentatively into the room, "Can we talk?"

I stick my head in the air long enough to say no before burying it back in the pillow. I'm not even embarrassed that he, or anyone for that matter, is seeing me cry right now. The bed shifts as Harry sits on the edge of it.

"C'mon, love. Tell me what's up. Please?" he pleads.

I shake my head and his hand pats my back a couple of times comfortingly, "Well is there anyone who you'll talk to?" he asks.

Niall or Josh's names flash through my head momentarily, but I don't think they'd really be able to help me much. Not that I don't think they're perfectly capable of explanations! It's just, I don't know whether they're the ones to go to for advice at the moment.

"Hang on, Rose. I'm going to get one of the boys..." His footsteps fade away down the stairs.

Why is everything so complicated? Why do these fans hate me? What did I do to deserve such a mean message? Nothing, that's what.

"Hey Rosie?" Louis calls out. The door creaks open and he enters the room.

"It's Rose!" I correct him for the thousandth time, though I'm not sure he heard me because my voice is muffled.

There's no indication that he heard me as he asks, "Are you okay, love?"

I roll over and sigh, "Seriously? Did you really just ask me that?"

"Sorry, probably not the best question. Let me reword that, what happened?" His voice is full of sincerity and for once I know that this goofy man will be totally and one hundred percent serious.

"The tweet-" I choke out before crying once again. 

"Sh, shh. It's okay. I know what it's like." He murmurs, pulling me into his chest. 

I look up at him and snap, "How do you know? Your fans seem to think your the funniest person in the world! While I'm just a flipping weird girl you adopted for publicity!"

His face is horrorstruck for a split second before he sputters, "Why would we adopt you for publicity? We wouldn't!"

"Well it certainly makes sense if you think about it!"

His face softens as he says, "We didn't... I promise."

"Okay then. But how do you know what it feels like? The fans love you!" I repeat.

"Well, they seem to think I'm... er, gay." He scratches the back of his head nervously.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I ask, thoroughly confused.

"Yeah, well that doesn't stop them from calling us fake." He states, trying to keep his voice steady.

"And what do you do about it?"

"I try to ignore it, but it just gets so hard and sometimes, and-" he trails off. He looks like he's ready to crack underneath all the pressure.

"You want to take it all back. You wish you never became famous." I finish for him.

"Oh no! I'd never take it back! I've met my best mates here and I love everything about the band. Music is my life. I would be nowhere without it. While the hate can be overwhelming at times, you can't let it get to you. And, Rose, it's just one tweet and if that girl were a true fan she never would've said that to begin with. People who say stuff like that are just bored with their lives and want to stir up some drama. And that's exactly what happened, right?"

"Right," I agree with a growing smile, "Thanks, Louis." I wrap my arms around his torso and he returns the hug.

"No problem." He pulls back for a moment and says with a cheeky grin, "And if anyone ever tries to hurt you like that again, let's just say they'll need a cast and some ice."

My hand flies over my mouth, "You wouldn't!"

He shrugs, "Maybe, maybe not!" Then he gets up and proceeds to skip out of the room. That is, until his head hits the top of the doorframe. Louis yelps in pain and collapses on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I ask him. I bite my cheek and try to hold back laughter.

He groans, "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to go get some... some ice." He looks a little disoriented when he gets up, and he stumbles down the stairs. I follow him down to try and catch him if he begins to fall. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to hold up a full grown man by the back of his shirt if he falls, especially considering how short I am.

Thankfully, we make it to the kitchen without a problem. "Damn, that really hurt." He mutters, plopping a bag of ice on top of his head.

"What the hell happened to you?" Harry exclaims as he walks into the kitchen. He's holding a bag of frozen peas in his hand for his left eye which is an ugly purple from earlier.

"Hit my head on the doorframe. I'll be alright though." Louis explains.

Harry just chuckles in response. I can't tell if it's because Harry's still mad and he's thinking karma got back at Louis or just because it's just a funny thing to have happen. "What's so funny?" I ask him.

"Between my black eye and the bump that's bound to be on Tommo's head, I'd think we just got back from a boxing match."

I burst out laughing because it's so true, "The band's dropping like flies!"

"We look like Rocky Balboa!"

"We look like we've been through a war!"

Alright, maybe those are all exaggerations, but I think they're funny.

[A/N] I'm sososososososo sorry for not updating yesterday like I said I would! I feel really guilty and like I let you all down for that. I hope that the contents of this chapter can make up for it!

I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out because I don't have much time to write it. If I had to guess it will be out this weekend, but I'll work really hard at night and try and get it out earlier.

Also, I'm considering writing a Christmas themed one-shot... If I were to do this would you like it based on 'Rose, Not Rosie' or would you like a romantic one?

Comment your thoughts/vote on this below! 

Have an awesome week everyone! And let's hope the world doesn't end! haha 

xx

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