#27: He Cries Watching Your Improvised Acting

Zayn: His eyes swell with hot, burning tears as you continue to improvise.
"And you know what? I don’t need him. One day, I’m going to find me the perfect man who will love me! We’ll have the most beautifulest kids in the whole damn world! And I won’t need a good damned thing from him! Because what can he teach me about raising kids when he doesn’t even know his own kid?" Your arms suddenly stop moving, as you stare into the eyes of your characters uncle, "Why doesn’t he want me?" You whispered, allowing his strong arms to embrace your smaller, fragile figure.
The set fell silent, and from the corner of his eyes, Zayn could see Nicholas Sparks crying, too.

Louis: A tear had ran down his cheek, unnoticed, until it landed onto his shirt. “Sometimes… sometimes the strongest, mightiest, and bravest soldiers are tired of being strong, and mighty, and brave. Sometimes… sometimes, we need to let loose and-and be kids again!” You cried, your own tears swelling up. “Because it’s okay to admit you’re not as strong as everyone believes you are. It’s hard, yes, but it’s okay.” You’re supposed “sister” embraces you in a hug- those comforting ones, that rock side to side.
He sniffled, looking away, noticing the director wiping his eyes, rapidly.

Harry: He ran his hand along his face, yet again, as your character has her own breakdown. “You say you understand- but you don’t. You honestly don’t. These thoughts won’t stop. I can’t not notice the pain anymore. Did you also know I tried to kill myself?” You ask, starring at the actress who’s supposed to play your estranged mother. Her eyes are wide, surprised before she, too, begins to break into sobs.
Harry feels the hairs on his back and neck rise as you fall to the floor, sobbing and screaming. Acting, he reminded himself, acting.

Niall: His cheeks flush red, tears running down, alongside the awaiting cast and crew as they watched your “character” breakdown.

"I don’t like myself very much," you whispered, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Why is that?" You’re character’s mother questioned. "There is nothing to like." You answer, sipping your warm tea, "Do you… do you know the bitch in your head who keeps telling you you’re fat and weak? Why do I fucking bother trying to fight it when it’s right?" 

Niall inhaled, trying not to breakdown himself, because he knew you no longer spoke of your character- no, you were talking about yourself. And it killed him.

Liam: A pounding in his chest seemed to quicken as your character tugged the former friends arms. “Take it back,” you hissed. “What if I don’t?" The former friend threatened. 

"Then she’ll go home and think she won’t fit in, and cry and she’ll want to die , all ‘cause you said something is wrong with her. But she’ll continue to smile no matter how hurt she is and then- then everyone will care when it’s too late. All because you’re a scared little girl with a low self-esteem."

It was as if the movie had stopped rolling at it was you actually expressing your feelings, because he knows. He knows that’s what you feel. And perhaps that’s why he crying like a baby, like the eighteen other crew members. Because they know, too.

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