Lucky Seats (Niall Horan Fan Fiction)

Chapter 5

Wooohooo thank you all for reading!!! It means so much to me :)

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Alison's POV

I woke up to the sun streaming through the curtains in my eyes. Rolling over, I realized I wasn't in my own bed. I was in a large king-sized bed with blue blankets. Where am I? I thought.

Suddenly all of the memories from last night flooded back into my head.

Niall. The Concert. The Kiss. Niall. Mr. Horan. The Kiss.

Niall.

The Kiss.

Oh gosh...I hope I didn't do anything I regret. Looking under the covers, I realized I was still in my dress that I wore to the concert.

"Niall I don't want to be a one night stand and never see you again" I said sadly.

Hurt flew across Niall's face and he said, "you won't be, I promise."

I smiled to myself remembering these very words coming out of his mouth.

I decided to get out of bed and go and find Niall. Where is he? i thought. Then suddenly I smelled the delicious smell of pancakes and I started walking towards it.

I found Niall in the kitchen. His back was facing me, hard at work on cooking the breakfast for us.

Us. What if I really don't mean anything to him and he regrets kissing me. My insecurities kicked in and I began to wonder what everyone will think of this relationship, if this could even be considered a relationship.

I usually don't care what people write about me in magazines or the occasional article in the newspaper. When they call me a partier, I don't care. The writers don't know me and I don't know them, so I can't judge them, and they shouldn't judge me.

When people on facebook or twitter or the paparazzi call me fat or ugly to get some sort of reaction out of me, I just ignore them. Again, they don't know me and I don't know them. But it is hurtful, having people calling you fat and ugly to try and make you upset or whatever they want.

I may act strong and confident on the outside, but on the inside I'm just like everyone else. Fragile and broken. Every single insult and pointless comment I get thrown in my face just makes me feel worse and worse about myself. I would never self-harm myself, even though I've contemplated it before. That just seems too drastic for me to do. If anorexia could be considered self-harm, then I guess I self-harm myself sometimes.

I don't like to starve myself, but when people are constantly calling you fat and ugly, you get very upset, and want to fix it. In public, I am forced to eat. It's horrible. I don't want to. My mother thinks I need help, but I can't go and get help, it would be too embarrassing. I have a therapist. But honestly, who doesn't want one. Someone you can vent to, and tell all of your secrets, and you can trust them not to tell anyone. It's amazing.

My therapist knows all of my problems. She knows what's going on from the outside. What all of the reporters and writers are saying about me and my family. But she also knows what's going on on the inside. She knows all of the insider details that the public is probably dying to know. But I can trust Melissa, my therapist. She would never tell a soul, and for that I am greatful.

Snapping myself out of my thoughts and walked over to Niall.

I didn't know what to do so I just leaned up against the island marble countertop and coughed lightly.