Angel on the Streets {shiall}

1

Here is a copy of my thoughts immediately after I had the idea and plotted this book sometime in the early hours of da morning: Holy shit. I just plotted a whole Shiall Moran book. Crap, I'm stupid now I'll feel like I have to write it. But damn tho... Umm... How long did that take exactly? Less than an hour sha, I know that at least. Let's say 30 mins. Fuck I have strength. Test tmrw can suck a dick or what, is that it??? 😂

Anywho it's cute so I decided to try and shit went on from there heh. Enjoy or don't but I hope ya do 👋🏾

Niall Horan wasn't a fan of schedules. He had never been. But since he'd met his manager, Lewis Capaldi, as his golfing career was just getting off the ground, he'd had to deal with one. It was a loose schedule but a schedule nonetheless. The moment he woke up, he decided to get a couple extra minutes of shut-eye in but his phone buzzed with a single text; one warning from Lewis to get off his lazy ass and get his day started. He always got that text about five minutes after his alarm sounded so he hadn't even bothered to get back to sleep.

He remembered when this all began. Lewis would come by every day back then and drag him out, throw his sheets on the floor, bribe him with drinks and meals, anything he could to get his star out of bed. It was probably more challenging doing this first little thing than the training that came next. Because Niall might have loved his job but it wasn't all fun and games, not that any job is. Still, he loved it too much to ever quit. And he was good at it. Really good.

He stretched a bit and willed himself to think of why he was getting out of bed instead of staying in the whole day. He was living his dream. He had money for days, friends by his side and he was making serious bank just by having fun golfing. This was a great life he was blessed with and no one else would earn or enjoy it to its fullest but him. Rising to his feet, he shuffled into his fuzzy slippers and rejuvenated himself with some coffee. Then came a nice, heaping pile of cereal.

Niall was a great food lover and everyone knew it. His mother was certainly no help as she loved to make sure her boys were filled to their brims when they ate. She still did, really, whenever he got the time to stop by. He was lucky to be born with fast metabolism but he would get started on his daily workout regimen soon so it would all burn off either way. With food out of the way, he spent his time till noon lounging and working out but he got bored fast.

He was craving some excitement and well, even if he didn't find that, a walk was always nice. He was in an entirely new city, after all. There would definitely be something new to discover and experience. He couldn't help but think back to how that dick acted after he won. One of the things Niall loved about golf was how a lot of the players were humble and down-to-earth. On the other side of the spectrum, however, were the pompous arrogant asses, usually old conservative white guys, who thought they knew it all about the sport.

The man quite literally bumped him with his shoulder once he'd beat him for first place by a fucking hair, muttered "this is why we say this sport is for real men" with a smile and walked away. Was it because of his age? Was it because of his slouched stance or playfulness or the white nail polish he had on that afternoon? Niall was the easygoing type and passionately tried to avoid dealing with that kind of person. Maybe he would have if he went to more of the parties he was invited to but he preferred celebrating wins and forgetting losses with his real mates.

"And when people say they don't like men, men wonder why as they continue doing stupid ass shit like that. Some people of my gender are such assholes what the fuck," he grumbled. He wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, anymore. He just wanted to walk and get the emotions out. He honestly thought the anger he felt then was already gone but there it still was. Being underestimated and looked down on was just one of the things that irritated the usually agreeable man.