Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIRTY ONE _______
Niall
My eyes flinched when an iPad slammed against the table in front of me. My body almost leaning back by how hard the hit was, I worried the tablet didn't break.
"Take a look, Horan." Jack, my publicist manager spoke to me.
It had been just a few weeks since I departed from Chicago. The jet-lag was dreadful, especially since the weather in Los Angeles felt drier than ever during the holidays, but I lived here. It was my practically my whole career.
"What am I looking at?" My body stretched, looking over down the screen in front of me.
"Read and scroll. I got that emailed to me. That's why I called." Jack hammered.
Letting out a sigh from the raise of voice, I leaned over down the table where the tablet stood and began reading off the screen.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I was pale. Not that I was surprised at the topic, but I didn't think it was going to happen a few weeks later. Yeah, I knew the outcomes, but the titles of the articles seemed misleading and I didn't know how to turn around it.
"Anything you have to say about this, Niall?" Jack questioned.
I can see my publicist stand in the corner of the room. His fingers resting against his chin as he stressed himself out on what we were going to be working on the next few days.
"I was careful. There is no proof that it happened." I defended, crossing my arms.
"Did you keep scrolling?" Jack pointed.
I sighed again, lazily bringing my body upwards to the screen and scrolling down at the information being given.
Multiple blurred pics of Elle and I plastered on the screen. I almost felt myself get caught in the act, trying to figure out how someone was able to catch a snap of us from in the most private places in Chicago. I felt defeated.
