1D Preference #39: You comfort him after a bad performance...
Louis sighed loudly as he plopped down next to you on the couch when he came back from his show. "Hey," you said keeping your eyes on the television. Louis sighed louder and longer and you looked from the movie to your boyfriend who was obviously craving attention. "What's up, love?" You'd stopped asking about shows seeing as he never had any complaints. "Ask about the show. Go on, ask." Louis commanded. "How was the show, love?" You rolled your eyes thinking he was going to tell you how amazing he was. "Shit. It was absolute shit. I was absolute shit. I'm going to have to become a drama teacher now, I was that bad." "Oh, Lou," you wrapped your arms around Louis's slim waist and pulled him into you so his back was against your chest, "what happened?" Louis groaned loudly. "I messed up the lyrics and then I couldn't hold my handstand and then I forgot the notes to the chorus of "Beautiful" so I couldn't sing it. My life sucks, Y/N. Feed me to the wolves, I'm undeserving of all those fans." You ran a calming hand through Louis' hair. "Babe, it's fine." You murmured. "Things happen." Louis shook his head. "Not to me. I never forget lyrics." You rolled your eyes and quieted a panicked Louis. "Everyone does and it's normal, darling. This was normal. It happens to everyone. And ya know what? I bet all your fans thought you forgetting the lyrics was the cutest thing ever because it probably was because you're the cutest thing ever." Louis made a noise and you knew you had him. He liked compliments. "I'm absolutely beautiful." "You are. And everything you do is cute." Louis rolled over to look at you. "So it's not a big deal." You pecked Louis on the nose. "Not at all, darling. No one will think anything of it." Louis pecked your lips. "You always know what to say."
"Hey love," you answered your phone, a smile on your face. "How was the concert tonight?" You cradled the phone against your ear as you stirred the soup you were making. Niall sniffled and you knew you were done with everything else you were doing. "What's wrong, babe?" You asked turning off the stove and going to the couch. Niall deserved your full attention. Niall being sad was something you hated. You could just picture his blue eyes big and wide and filled with tears that had yet to fall. "The sh-show wasn't good. I, I w-was shit." Niall mumbled seconds before a sob ripped through him. "I can hardly believe that, love." You responded in a gentle voice. "I was!" Niall whined. "I messed up a guitar part in Teenage Dirtbag and then I sang a wrong note during the chorus of What Makes You Beautiful and I forgot to do the row and I fell down and got a boo-boo and it hurts." A small smile couldn't help itself come on to your face because your boyfriend was absolutely adorable. "I'm sure Liam will kiss your ouchy." You told Niall and you heard him groan knowing you were teasing him. "Baaabe, I was shit tonight." You shook your head. Niall could never be shit, he was too good at what he did. "This sucks. There are going to be so many videos and gifs of people commenting on how shit I am and how they don't want me in the band!" Niall exclaimed. You rolled your eyes at the blond. His exaggerated beliefs were insane and they wouldn't happen. "Niall, babe, no real fan of One Direction wants you out of the band. They loves you and they know you bring something to the table. Everyone has their shit days." "Harry doesn't." Niall grumbled. You rolled your eyes. "Do you wanna have shit days or get bottles thrown at your private parts, because honestly love, I'd like to be able to have babies with you." There was a genuine chuckle from Niall and you knew he was feeling better. "That's true." There was a bit of shuffling before he spoke again: "Thanks, love." You smiled. "You're welcome, Niall. And just so you know, you deserve to be in One Direction. No matter what anyone says." There was silence once more. "I love you, Y/N." "Love you too, babe. Now tell me how absolutely amazing New York City is."
You could tell by the way his face fell by the time the lights had dimmed and the stage had gone black that he knew he did awful. He stumbled off the stage after the boys, his eyes already glazed over and his hands clenched tight at his side to keep them from trembling. His whole body was shaking as he sucked on his quivering bottom lip. You didn't say a word as you slipped your hand into his, slowly unclenching his fingers so they could weave their way through yours. You could feel the tenseness of his body, his muscles quivering from being wound so tight. His eyebrows pulled downwards, making him look angry but you knew better. The walk towards the tour bus was silent, the only thing heard were Harry's shaky exhales. When you had closed the door to the bus, Harry's face crumpled and he fell onto the sofa, his head falling into his trembling hands. "I fucked up so bad. Management is going to kill me. There are going to be so many news articles tomorrow about how I'm never going to be able to sing again because I sounded so bad. The boys are--" You quickly stopped his rambling by circling your hands around his wrists and pulling them off his face, so he could look you in the eyes. Tear tracks streaked his creamy cheeks that were now tinged with a blotchy red. "You did not fuck up Harry. Everyone has a bad night or a bad song. You're going on a year-long tour. You're bound to have some voice cracks or wrong notes in there somewhere. You can't be perfect Harry. And, contrary to popular belief, management knows that too," you said, giving him a soft smile when you finished. "But I-" You silenced him once more with a gentle kiss to the lips. "Don't beat yourself up over this. We all love you no matter what," you said, your hands still culling his cheeks. Harry nodded and tilted his chin, murmuring a quiet 'I love you,' before capturing your lips with his.
Your phone vibrated loudly on your bedside table, startling you out of your sleep. Without glancing at the caller ID, you slid the arrow across the screen and held the phone up go your ear. "'Lo?" You croaked into the phone, your voice thick with sleep. "Babe?" Liam's voice filtered through the phone. You say up straighter at the sound of his voice, broken and thick with emotion. "What's wrong Li?" You question, glancing at the clock and having to suppress a groan at the early time. "I know it's around three in the morning there but I totally just fucked up my performance and I totally let the fans down. I just wasn't myself and I couldn't hit my falsetto note in 'Teenage Dirtbag.' My falsetto notes! I always hit those. My voice cracked and it was awful..." You sighed and shook your head. "Li," you said, effectively shutting off his rambling. "I'm sure you did incredible. You are a part of the biggest boyband in the world right now. I'm sure none of your fans car if you have one bad night. Everyone has their bad days--" Liam quickly cut you off to snort and mumble a quiet "Niall doesn't," which made you roll your eyes. "What I'm TRYING to say is that nobody is perfect. And as much as you try to be, you aren't either. You'll make mistakes and that's okay. Everyone has their off days," you finished, smiling into the phone. "Thank you, (Y/N). I needed that," Liam said after a moment of silence. "I know. It's what I'm here for!" You said, much too cheerily for three in the morning. "I'm sorry I called you. Go back to sleep beautiful!" Liam said, shame creeping into his voice. "Don't worry about it. You know I'm always here. And babe? I love you," you said. "I love you too," Liam reciprocated and you too hung up, with hopes of seeing each other soon.
Lightning zigzagged through the black clouds as the rain pounded hard on the stage doors. Zayn's usual gelled-to-perfection quiff had deflated and was hanging loosely in front of his face, the faded blonde tuffs of hair catching in his feathery eyelashes. He watched Louis perform a skit through wary eyes, his whole body tense. You slipped your hand into his, watching him jump from the sudden contact. "What's wrong?" You whispered in a worried tone. "Nothing," Zayn snapped, sliding his hand out from your grip and sauntering off to the changing room, his shoulders hunched over. Louis had stopped what he was doing to stare inquiringly over at you, along with the rest of the boys. You raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for the explanation. "His voice cracked when he went for his high note," Niall explained as he juggled a football on his foot. Harry nodded, shoving his hands into his right jean pockets, his green eyes following the football. "He looked really pissed off. We took his phone from him so he can't go on social media but..." Harry trailed off as Niall tried a really complicated move and cheered when he completed it successfully. "Normally Zayn wants his space when things like this happen," Liam finished, shooting Harry an accusatory glare. "But you can go see him if you'd like." You nodded and turned to follow after Zayn. You knocked lightly on the changing room door, chuckling to yourself when you realized it was unlocked. "Zayn?" You questioned as you walked into the room. "What part of leave me alone do you not understand?" Zayn mumbled into the pillow that he had stuffed his head into on the couch. You sighed and sat on the couch, your hand ghosting up and down his back. "You know you made one mistake. It's not the end of the world," you murmured quietly. "It's the end of my career," Zayn snapped. You rolled your eyes and snorted. "Don't be a drama queen. Any company would die to have the five British boys as their client. And one voice crack is minuscule compared to the thousands of perfect notes that you've hit," you said, bending down to kiss his cheek. "I'll leave you be now." You stood up to leave but a warm hand circled your wrist, yanking you back down. "I want a cuddle," Zayn whispered as he folded his arms over you, burying his head into your neck and staying there.