how to grieve liam payne
you and me got a whole lot of history
I was sitting at breakfast with my friends when Dunc pointed to my phone - I was getting a call from my brother, Squish.
“Have you heard the news?” he said.
“No - what news? I responded.
“Liam Payne has died Luce. He fell off a balcony.”
At the same time as I was hearing this, Dunc’s phone lit up as news notifications started rolling in, and his daughter Jett (a fellow One Direction fan) was desperately trying to get hold of him. It was true.
“He what?” I responded, and Squish told me he was so sorry, and that he understood if I had to go and verify and then report on this.
Everything was quiet for a moment. I told my table of friends that everything felt incredibly strange - that I felt like I could cry at any moment, and my hands were shaking. Two things were running through my mind. One was how appreciative I was to hear this news from my brother, who knew how much One Direction meant to me, and not from a stranger on the internet, but at the same time, all I wanted to do was go online. After all, the internet was where I discovered the boyband that - no shit - changed my life, and where I knew this complex type of grief would be validated.
Before I left breakfast, I talked to the table about the difficult few years Liam had had. Stories of addiction, erratic behaviour, and signs of a man who was deeply unwell had been making the rounds, and just days ago his ex-fiancé Maya Henry had gone public with abuse allegations. Before I go on I want to acknowledge Maya, and simply say that dear god I hope she doesn’t experience the type of hate or guilt-mongering that the internet can be so capable of - she had a right to speak out, and she’s in this too.
I got back to my hotel room and logged on. At first, I regretted it. TMZ (who deserve a special place in hell), had posted the story, along with photos of Liam’s dead body. They somehow justified doing this by only showing ‘parts’ of his body that were identifiable (like his tattoos) and not the whole thing - which is the most bullshit justification I’ve ever heard.
But after that, I found what I’d been looking for. The fandom was exactly as I remembered it - it was like meeting up with old friends - a reunion of sorts - to share how we were feeling in all this strangeness and sadness. That’s always been my favourite part of being so online - in your best times and your worst times, you don’t feel alone. That’s how it feels right now.
Right now I’m meant to be a guest on someone’s podcast. I thought I would be fine to go ahead and do it, but as soon as I got back to my hotel room I just felt incredibly compelled to sit, and write, and connect with the fandom that made me who I am. I cancelled the recording, citing Liam’s death as the reason, and I feel zero shame about it, because as I’m writing this I’m listening to One Direction’s first album and my teenage years are flashing before my eyes in a montage. I feel like I’ve lost someone I knew - parasocial relationships will do that to you. Just because you never spoke to them doesn’t mean they didn’t in some way speak to you - a loss is a loss, and no one can tell you differently.
My fandom bestie Sacha told me that she couldn’t stop thinking about his Mum, and in particular that scene in their documentary ‘This is Us’ when she’s buying the cardboard cutout of Liam to put in his childhood bedroom. She talks about how fame took him from her, and she missed him dearly. I’m also thinking about his son, Bear, who’s lost his dad; his bandmates who lost a friend (and one of the five people on earth who could relate to their insane superstar experience); and of course, I’m thinking of the fans, who are experiencing incredibly complex grief for someone they didn’t know, but who played a huge part in their lives.
I remember watching Michael Jackson’s death being reported on TV when I was 11, and thinking then about how I would feel when a celebrity I loved (at that point it would have been The Jonas Brothers) passed away. I distinctly remember seeing news clips of the tributes people were making for him, seeing mass mourning, and dreading the day that I’d be one of those mourners. The next memory I have of this feeling was in 2013 when Cory Monteith died. I was 16, and wasn’t a huge Gleek or anything, but I again wondered how I’d feel when someone I loved deeply (at a distance) passed away. Now that Liam is gone I know. It’s exactly as confusing and confronting and devastating as I thought it would be, and while I understand that it’s the price we pay for loving (and dare I say obsessing over) someone or something so hard, it doesn’t make it any easier.
I want to finish whatever this is (an essay?, a brain dump?, an ode?) by saying that in the same way that I never want you to be embarrassed about being a fan of someone or acknowledging the role they played in your life (hello - I literally wouldn’t have a business if it weren’t for being in the One Direction fandom) I also want you to know that you are valid in however you are feeling right now, now that they’re gone.
You and me got a whole lot of history
We could be the greatest team that the world has ever seen
You and me got a whole lot of history
So don't let it go, we can make some more
We can live forever
I love you,
Luce xxxxx