You started off 2013 by getting into a big argument with Louis. You come from a festive family who had a strict tradition of staying up until midnight every new year. Louis, however, was not as festive. That was what he told you, at least, on the phone on New Year's Eve. You were lying on your bed in your college dorm room, mumbling quietly so you wouldn't wake your room mate. "I don't have anything to do tonight," you said, "maybe we can go to a pub or something and celebrate. You could bring Harry, too, if you want."

"Sorry love," Louis yawned noisily into the phone, "I'm really tired. I don't think I'm going anywhere tonight."

"Oh." You failed to hide your disappointment.

"I'm sorry." He repeated. "It's just that I've done a few concerts this month, and then I had to spent time with you, so I finally have a night to myself..."

'Had to spend time with me?' You wrinkled your forehead in confusion. But you didn't want to pick a fight. He was tired, so you just had to be understanding. "Okay. I don't have classes tomorrow morning though, so do you maybe want to hang out then? We could have brunch."

"Sure." He yawned again. "Sure. I'll pick you up at nine thirty or something and tell you where to meet me."

So you figured you were fine. You watched baby animal videos on your computer, text messaged your friends and then changed into your pajamas two hours early since you had nothing else to do but sleep. Just then, your phone rang. 'Louis?' You read. "Hello?"

There was music blasting, girls cheering and people chanting, "Drink it! Drink it!"

"Are you going to do it, Louis?" A hoarse voice that was most definitely Harry's asked.

"Yeah! I'm gonna drink it!" The other party attendees cheered louder as Louis (apparently) chugged something down.

"Louis!" You yelled into your phone. Your roommate stirred. You didn't bother to lower your voice – instead, you hung up. He must have butt-dialed you. You went to bed angry, woke up angry and got dressed angry. You received a text from Louis specifying where to meet him – a restaurant, not too far from your college. So you walked there.

Louis was waiting for you with sunglasses on, probably to mask his hangover. You sat down at the table and got right into it. "You called me last night. I heard you at a club."

He stopped. "What? When did I call you?"

"You butt-dialed me! I heard everything! You told me that you were too tired to spend time with me, and you went out instead to hang out with your friends! Come on, man. That was a really..."

"Can we not do this right now? Can't we just have a nice brunch?"

"No. No, we can't, because I can't sit here and eat with you wondering if you secretly are wishing you were doing something else. Like sleeping. Or hanging out with your friends. I get that I'm not as funny or whatever as Eleanor, or just not entertaining all around, but can't you at least pretend that you like spending time with me? Or dump me if I'm that boring to you?"

"Dump you?" He scoffed. 

You were too angry to continue. The tears were already forming. "I can't right now. You eat here and recover from your hangover. I hope you catch up on your much needed rest later."

"Wait, Y/N! Come on!"

With that, you stormed off.
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