niall

Kendall fucking Nicole Jenner. I should have expected this, coming from one of the biggest music stars in the world. Though part of me thought he was different, I had a sick feeling he wasn't. He probably only wanted a good fuck, and now we're going to go through a process every single celebrity / non-celebrity relationship goes through. The secret rendezvous, the drinking, the fun that only lasts until Public Relations steps in and tears them apart.

My eyes stay glued to the screen as the girls keep squealing, and my heart keeps pounding. News reporters talk and laugh about the appearance as my self esteem shatters.

"Niall! Ni--oh..."

Ashley and Rose come up to me, watching the screen before them as well.

"Niall..."

"Should I have expected this...?" I ask, "I feel like it should've been predictable."

"Babe, you'll be fine." Rose says, "Harry isn't that type of shallow celebrity."

"But what if he is?" I protest, "I mean, I don't have boobs or an ass--"

"--you have an ass--"

"--but I'm not her." I finish.

"Her assets aren't that great either!" Ashley argues, "Niall her family is fucking horrible, her fame came from her siblings, and she has nothing on you."

"But--"

"And that's exactly what we're going to show her on the night of Zayn's album release party."

"How Ash?"

"Niall, you're sexy. You're hot as hell. We just need to show off the right parts."

"Meaning?"

"Looks like you're getting clothes too."

They take me out of the store, walking me to Forever 21. My nickname for Forever 21 is 'Forever a Disappointment'. Their clothes are practically only for the skinniest of girls and boys, and being someone on the non-skinny side, I hate looking inside alone.

"Why are you taking me here?" I ask, annoyed.

"Because, since you don't keep up, Forever 21 has expanded their size range."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows, amused. My last visit here didn't end well. I'm still not sure if there were more refunds, or roundhouse punches. Possibly the latter, if my past self was truly that violent. I may have a violent deja vú if I see Kendall Jenner on Harry's lap.

"Their jeans come in your size," Rose says, "So we'll get you a nice tight pair that outlines your dick."

"Invasive much?"

"It's not like there's going to be waterfalls flowing in our panties, so relax. Pretend we're your lesbian moms."

"In that case, my moms are really hot."

"This is getting weird, stop!" Ashley demands and Rose smirks at her. We stop at the jeans rack, and I sigh.

"I hate to do this, but can you pick them out? I wanna call Harry again..."

"Sure," Ash replies for both her and Rose and they begin fingering through the pairs of black pants. I smile at the two of them before sauntering out of the store. My fingers shake as I try, for the third time, to call Harry.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Hello, this is Harry Styles personal cell phone. Please leave a message, and he'll get back to you as soon as possible.

Or he'll lie to your fucking face. I hang up the phone, shoving it in my pocket before meeting back up with Ashley and Rose. What am I possibly supposed to think of this now? He says one thing, but now his actions express another, and then he's not answering my calls, and the hopelessness is sinking in faster than ever. It's why I never did anything close to relationships, or getting to know men as close as I got to know Harry. no, we're not that close, but he's the closest I've had anyone in a long time. And he's fucking with me, playing games with my heart as my friends tell me to hold on, to have faith in him, because he's different. And yet, maybe Derek is right; maybe Harry's the exact opposite of what I think he is.

"What do you want to do after this?"

"I don't know," I sigh, "guys. i can't even think straight. I honestly just want to go home."

"Do you have work tonight?"

"I'm calling out of my shift," I rub my forehead, "I have a horrible headache and I just want to mourn."

"Mourn what?"

"What else, Ash."

NIALL'S HOUSE
9:48 PM

My phone lays on the other end of my desk, while my feet lay on the opposite side. My back is pressed against my scratchy mattress, eyes closed, breathing barely audible. Since I got home, I've been attempting to block out all social media and anything that can connect me back to the virtual world, or my horrible love life.

Why did I ever think this was more than a few nights of fun? How naive of me, to assume that Harry would be around for the long run. Just because of a few memorable late nights and a feeling beyond compare?

He's like the stars, falling half the time, only to rise again. He'll probably embrace my love with open arms when we have sex next, and that's what hurts the most.

Perhaps if I called him again? What would that do? Hurt, or heal? Harry's probably tired of hearing from me anyway. I could sit here and dream instead of facing the morbid reality I have to live within.

Dreams. I wonder how Harry feels when he dreams. I never really get a good look at him when he sleeps. I wonder if he smiles. I already feel like it's been months since our last true interaction. I wanted it to be during this album release party, but obviously he has other credentials to attend to.

Having him all to myself; now that would be a dream from the heavens. Maybe that's the hilarious part about the dreams we have, the fantasies we have about the good things that could happen in our lives. They tell me to hold on to my wild imagination, all the aspirations I have for my future, but what happens when it all comes crashing down? Then all I've done is get my hopes up.

Everyone knows you can't stitch up a broken heart, so why do we let ourselves be vulnerable in the first place?

I turn my light off, laying back fully on my bed now. I grasp at my sheets, curling into a defenseless ball of empty emotion before I make a note to myself to tell Harry I'm not a crutch. That I'm not going to be his go to for when Kendall has to hang out with Kim and Kanye. I have my own life to worry about, and I don't need him, or his money, or his promises, or his sex to drag me back to 2015.

HARRY'S HOUSE
12:08 AM

"Come on, come on..." I beg, holding the phone tightly to my ear as I listen to the unbroken ring of the phone, hoping, praying, Niall picks up. There's no doubt he's seen the news, and I just want to make sure he knows the deal. The deal, being that Kendall is a lesbian and neither of us have interest in each other.

No, I'm not quite sure I want from Niall and I's little, get togethers, I guess we'll call them. But I know that when I'm with him, I can't help but smile, and when he laughs, I laugh. I like people that are good company, and Niall's the best company I've come across in ages. To loose that would be a true pity.

I stand at my balcony, a glass of gin in my hand as I listen to Niall's cheery smooth voice on the voicemail tone. It feels like a scene out of a mystery film, but the only mystery is what I'm going to do the next time I see him. Calling at this late of an hour doesn't help my case in any way. He probably thinks we're already getting on with it, fooling around to our hearts' desires.

I'm almost inclined to pray to whatever powerful being watches over the world, for just a chance to explain myself before the night we're all waiting for. Niall's bringing his friends to meet me, and I know they're already skeptical due to my status. I want nothing more than a fair opportunity to get to know the poor boy, because my social standing should have no effect on that. Even though, as every celebrity in the business knows, it never won't matter.

With that, I drop the glass of gin, waiting to hear it shatter; just like my dreams.

A WEEK LATER
NIALL'S HOUSE
5:34 PM

"How bad do you want to kiss me, babe?"

My breath is caught in my throat, and only Harry's lips can release the air being trapped. My cold heart runs on kinetic energy as it bounces in and out of it's place within my chest. A grin encloses his entire presence as he leans closer, his peppermint snow (as if snow has a smell) scent and perfect teeth leave me undeniably in his trance, and just as I think I'm not falling prey to him, I'm weaker than I've ever been.

"I don't want to kiss you," I whisper, "I don't need you."

"Then why are you dreaming about me?" He asks in a hushed voice, "Why are you dreaming of me, if you don't need me? You're only dreaming of me because you do need me."

"But I don't," I say more forcefully, "just because you're here now doesn't mean I need you."

"But you're pushing me away," He says, pushing me gently onto the bed I didn't even know was there, "why push, if you know you want me?"

"Because if I do, I'll lose me, for you."

"Who says you need to lose yourself?" He asks, "Just let yourself fall into me, let me take care of you."

"And when you're not there?"

"Remember what it feels like to take care of yourself."

"I'll forget."

"Then what the hell are you worrying about, if you already know the future? If you're so sure, then live in this moment, on this bed, within my eyes. Just, kiss me."

"And what will that do for you?" His hands reach up to stroke my cheekbones as his lips shadow mine, the closest they've ever been in this short period of time.

"I can say, Niall, that I've kissed you. Now, wake up."

Harry. My eyes shoot open instantly as I look around my room, waiting to fall, or for the sun to hit me in the face, or for me to realize that the beautiful white fantasy I was living was simply a fucking dream.

But instead, I see Ashley, Rose, and Derek in front of me, their eyes wide.

"What?" I ask.

"You have a growing friend..."

"Gah!" I scream, covering myself up quickly, "How the hell did you get in anyway?! I was trying to nap!"

"Your lovely mother let us in," Rose smiles, "she told us you were probably masturbating, so we decided to remind you to use protection."

"For masturbating?"

"Yeah, I dunno," she shrugs, "but anyway, we have Zayn's album release party soon!"

"God..." I rub my forehead. I completely forgot about it. For the past week, I had been sleepwalking through the motions. I didn't bother calling Harry back, because if he wasn't going to be there when I needed him, then fuck me answering. I'll just talk to him tonight, if Kendall finishes early enough with him.

"We have your jeans!"

"Right," I sigh, "well, let's get ready, because my boner is gone."

"To Derek's disappointment."

"If you guys don't stop--"

We all laugh at Derek's despair, but I'm still feeling cluttered. Is it really infatuation when Harry seemed to steal every ounce of my sanity?

I strip off my boxers, throwing them in the wash and replacing them with my CK panties. If tonight goes well, maybe I'll give Harry a ride. Just because I'm mad, doesn't mean I'm not in the mood for sex. Maybe that's a bit devious, but no one initially said I'm an angel.

"Alright, jeans time!" Rose exclaims, tapping my ass before handing me what looks like a pair of black leggings.

"Guys; they're too tight."

"Nonsense," Ashley retaliates, "the tighter, the better. Look at Rose's ass in this dress, for example. I wanna eat her out right now, but we're in public and I'm not into that."

"Okay okay," I roll my eyes, "just stop if I put them on."

"Deal," She grins.

THE CITY HOTEL

7:50 PM

The car pulls up to the venue and everyone around me suddenly can't stop screaming. Meanwhile, I'm trying to corner all my doubts into one small ball so I can crush them before facing Harry in his true masculine sexiness (that for some reason, I'm slowly loosing my self restraint to).

"You okay?" Rose asks.

"I'm just afraid that I'm gonna lose my confidence when I see him," I sigh.

"Niall," Rose whispers, as the rest of the girls leave the black car in a haste, "just remember, that this is what makes us girls."

"What does?"

"We don't cry when boys break our hearts."

They're wise words, and I keep them in mind as I follow my best friend out of the van.

But when I step out of the limo and Harry's emerald eyes meet mine, my heart falls and shatters around me; just like my morale, and Rose's words of encouragement. I fail to pick up the pieces when I see Kendall on his arm, and him looking right back at me, with the same confused, blissful expression. 

(i'm back; for real.)