Snap ~ Niall Horan

One

Niall's POV

Groaning, I rolled out of bed. Standing up, I readjusted my sweatpants and moved to open the curtains. Stopping en route to the window, I smiled at the picture of my older brother Greg on the wall.

In the photograph, he's grinning, and accepting his diploma for High Standard Journalism. Achieving his dreams. He'd wanted to be a journalist from the ripe old age of four. "Mornin' bro," I whispered, wishing he could hear me.

I continued on with my morning routine, showering and quiffing my hair. Grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl, I headed to the calendar pinned on the kitchen wall. Scanning it, I found the date: 10th of May.

The Morning Star. That's the newspaper I was hoping to get a job  from. My interview was at ten o clock. Glancing at the clock, and them double taking, I realized I had ten minutes to make a fifteen minute drive. "Shite," I growled, and sprinted for the door.

Driving along the busy road to get to the center of Dublin, I decided to blast some 5sos to pump some energy into myself.

"How did we end up talking in the first place? You said you liked my Cobain shirt, now we're walking back to your place..." Jamming, I rounded the corner and pulled into the car park.

I realized then that some how I'd made it on time I walked in just as my name was called. "Niall Horan?"

A blonde of about my age, maybe a little younger beckoned me towards a room with the blinds down.

She closed the door behind me, and I took in her appearance more closely. Damn. Natural looking blonde hair (lucky bitch), huge brown eyes that were expertly outlined, and a body come from heaven.

"Close your mouth, darling, you'll catch flies." She smirked, calling me out on my staring in a clear English accent.

"You're the catch here," I smiled confidently at her. "What's your name, babe?"

"Ella," she replied "but to you I'm Ms.Balsam. That is, of course if you get the job. Sit down please, Mr. Horan. I'm going to ask you some personal questions, and do some other stuff. I want you to tell me when you get uncomfortable."

"Right so." I sat down in a chair at the shiny table. She sat on top of the table and crossed her legs. The only thoughts running through my mind were 'Her legs have a better future than I do as a person' and 'This is a really weird interview.'

"So, Mr. Horan. Are you open to seducing strangers, flirting with them, and letting them touch you?"

Whoa. What? "Touch me in what way?" I asked her, trying to sound calm and careless at the same time, but instead sounding like a chipmunk.

"Whatever way they want. Even if it makes you feel uncomfortable?" "Ehm, I don't know?" I replied, not sure I understood where she was going with this.

"Hmmm. Most people answer no immediately. You're doing well Niall. Let's test you."

"Tell me when you feel uncomfortable." She moved closer to me. Her hand snaked out and pulled my face closer to hers. Seeing I was fine with it, she pressed her lips to mine, her hand going to my chest.

My eyes widened but I wasn't yet uncomfortable. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, but I still wasn't uncomfortable, I was enjoying this. It wasn't until her hand steadily slipped lower that I started to worry.

" Whoa,OK no." I pushed her off. She smiled at me composedly. "You did well. You're a strong contender for this."

"Can I ask what you making a move on me has to do with a job as a journalist at this paper?" I was beyond confused.

"Mr.Horan, this is the specialist branch if The Morning Star. We are the reason secrets get out. We are the Undercover Branch, and we get the inside scoop on celebrities. All our reporters need to be good looking, have a wide comfort zone and be ok with deception."

Oh my sweet baby Jesus. "Deception?" I didn't like the sound of that. "The celebrity you're assigned to needs to trust you."

"I don't know..." Lies were bad. What would my mother think? "The pay is excellent, Mr.Horan." Pushing a piece of paper with a figure that involved many zeroes across the table to me. I needed that money, and I knew it.

My jaw dropped again. "Think about it, Mr. Horan. Give us a chance."

********************************

If any of you got my TMI reference, I love you. Marry me.