Let's Play Pretend [Niall Horan AU]

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N

The burning stick of nicotine was loosely hanging off of my lips as I messed with the guitar. My dickhead manager wants me to write some more songs. I have zero motivation to do anything at all. I couldn't even think straight.

I strummed a couple tunes but everything sounded like some other song.

"Fuck it," I mumbled chucking the guitar to the floor. I left the music room and shut the door. I walked through my massive house, taking a long drag of the cigarette. The smoke burned my throat before being exhaled out my mouth.

I opened the fridge and found a bottle of beer. The bottle opener connected to the fridge helped me snap off the cap of the glass bottle. I tipped the beer into my mouth, letting the stinging feeling soothe my burning throat. I crushed the cigarette and threw it in the trash before sipping some more of the addictive drink.

The ringing of my bell echoed through the house. 

"Who the fuck is it?!" I yelled from the kitchen.

"Trevor. Open up!" He banged on the door.

"Sorry, I'm not home!" I said.

"Shut the fuck up. Open the door," he said. I sighed. He's not going to give up, is he? Might as well. I opened the door, taking another swig of my drink.

"Niall it's literally mid day and you're drunk and high!" He complained.

"Fucking leave if you hate it, asshole," I said. He put his head in his hands and inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Have you written anything?" He asked.

"Fuck no. What do you expect me to write about? Sunshine and rainbows? It takes time asshole. Wait," I said.

"I've waited for a month, Niall! You have to come up with something new or else people won't even remember you," He said.

"Fuck off. I don't care," I said.

"If you don't, then I'll have to take some serious actions," he said.

"Ha ha, I'm so scared," I rolled my eyes.

"You know there are so many ways to bring your name up on papers right?" He said.

"Like what? Headlining that I'm high, is that it? Great publicity you're getting for me, Mr. Manager," I scoffed. The last time I was on a magazine was because I was bar hopping with my friends while I was 'high'.

I honestly don't know what this man's problem is with me. I've never taken drugs. Sure I smoke and drink but that's where it all stops. It was one time and I fucking hated it. It's shit. Why does anyone even do it?

"Oh you don't even know, Niall. Write the song before I make you do something else," He said. I shut the door at his face and walked away.

This guy thinks he can drag me along like some rag doll. I'm not his play toy. He works for me, not the other way round. Fucker.

My bell rang a second time not even 10 minutes later.

"I swear to god Trevor, I'll fucking break your nose," I fumed, walking up to the door, ready to throw hands. I opened the door to find Zayn outside.

"Woah chill," he said, bringing his hand up to his face to block my hit. I put my fist down and let him in.

"What happened?" He asked, sitting down on my couch.

"That fucking bitch came and practically threatened me to write a song or else he'll 'find some other way'. Fucking asshole," I mumbled under my breath.