ACE [N.H]

02

Niall's voice is magnetic, like he's pouring himself into each note. Sure, Creep might be Radiohead's most popular, overplayed track, but right now, it feels like the only song that could fit this moment. When he finishes, the bar is quieter, as if everyone's waiting to exhale, and he casually makes his way back toward us.

"What the hell made you sing Radiohead?" Louis asks, eyebrows raised, one arm resting on the bar, his hand tucked under his chin.

I see Niall glance at me—quick, almost imperceptible—before shrugging. "No idea," he says, brushing it off as he settles onto a nearby stool.

Louis starts pouring us some water, his gaze shifting from me to Niall, a knowing glint in his eye. "Could it be the shirt?" he asks, pointing at my worn-out Radiohead tee, before shifting his gaze to Niall.

I glance down at my shirt, realizing the strange coincidence. Did he actually sing Creep because of it? I can't decide if it's flattering or completely ridiculous.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Niall says, shifting uncomfortably.

"Hey, Lou," I interrupt, feeling a little bold. "Can you play a song since no one's on stage?"

Louis beams. "Of course! What are you thinking?"

"Don't hate me," I laugh, already anticipating his response, "but could you play Hotel California?"

He sighs dramatically. "Only because I haven't seen you in forever! But this is the last time I'm playing it just because you ask!" He teases, putting the song on.

I take a quick peek at Niall, who's now back on his phone, seemingly tuned out. But when the opening chords start, his head lifts, curiosity piqued. "Since when did you guys start playing good music?" he jokes, giving Louis a sideways glance.

Louis rolls his eyes. "You two are so strange," he says, waving his finger between me and Niall.

Niall raises an eyebrow, looking at me directly. "You picked this?"

I nod, feeling my heart race. "Yeah. It's a classic." Why do I sound so awkward?

"Radiohead and The Eagles," he muses, a trace of a smirk on his lips. "What else?"

I hesitate, not sure how deep to dive, but his eyes don't leave mine, almost daring me. "Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, Fleetwood Mac..." I trail off, suddenly self-conscious.

A flicker of admiration crosses his face, and his eyes light up as he grins. "You've got good taste."

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I look away, stumbling over my next words. "Irish, right?" I cringe as soon as I say it. "I mean, your accent."

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. "You think anyone could mistake it?"

With a small smile, he finishes his drink, then stands, picking up his guitar case. "Later, Louis," he calls, heading toward the door. But just as he reaches it, Louis shouts after him.

"Hey, Niall! Mind walking Violet home? She lives nearby."

I open my mouth to protest, but it's too late. Niall glances back, his expression unreadable, and then gives a slight nod. "You better walk fast," he says with a smirk before disappearing through the door.

And suddenly, my heart's racing again, this time at the thought of a quiet walk through London with a stranger who just sang a song by my favorite band, the city lights glinting off the street, my new life beginning in the most unexpected way.