❝All of my life, it's been heartbreak weather
Thinking to myself it won't get better
It can be so lonely in this city
But it feels different when you're with me❞
***
Where Béatrice Lange meets Niall Horan at a club and brings the sunshine back into...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Niall looked miserable at his show last night. I don't know if the fans caught on to the fact that something was wrong, but I knew. And I knew I was the reason for it. I could tell he was trying his best. Physically he was there, singing and dancing around the stage, but his mind was preoccupied. To say that I feel guilty would be a major understatement.
Yesterday was a complete mess and it was my fault.
I lied to him and he saw right through me.
There's no denying that I screwed up. I should have just told him the truth and maybe this could have all been avoided. My impulsive nature took over and now look where we are.
I didn't tell my mother about what happened. She would have lectured me about how I messed everything up with the best person I've ever met. But maybe that was something I needed to hear. I needed someone to yell at me and ask me what the hell I was thinking.
Honestly, I could use one of her aggressive pep talks right now, but she went to sleep hours ago. She'd be more angry with me for walking her up at half-two than she would about me lying to Niall.
The hand holding my phone was already shaking, despite the fact that I hadn't done anything yet.
Taking deep breaths, I whisper my affirmations over and over until I feel myself calm down.
Finally, without letting myself think about it too much, I press the call button.
Here goes nothing.
I turn my phone on speaker and set it on the nightstand next to my bed. I sit at the edge of my bed, as close to where my phone is as possible. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. My heart pounds in my chest while my stomach is busy doing circles.
The dial tone plays on a loop, echoing through my empty bedroom
We haven't spoken since yesterday when he called me. There was no text after his show. No good night text. No good morning text. I didn't have any missed calls, nor did I try and call him. I can't even be sure that he'll answer.
"Hey." He answers. He didn't sound like himself, he didn't sound happy.
Instantly I panicked, everything I told myself I wanted to say completely disappeared from my mind. All day I thought about what I was going to say to Niall, but now I can't even bring myself to remember any of it.
Finally, I muster up enough courage to barely speak a simple "Hi."
"Look, I..." He begins to say, but his voice falters.
Before he gets the chance to say anything else or hang up, I say, "Niall, I screwed up. And I'm trying to fix things."
"Listen Béa, I really don't want to do this right now." He tells me.
