A Niall Horan Love Story: Solo Mission?

Chapter 5: Same Thing, Different Day

Niall’s Pov

“…That’s why you and I ended over U.N.I.  And I said that’s fine, but you’re the only one that knows I lied.”

I smiled as Ed’s soft voice filled my ears, my fingertips fiddling unconsciously with my guitar strings.  I wasn’t really sure what I was playing, but the melody sounded sweet with the background music, so I went along with it.

 I was currently sprawled across my unmade hotel bed, my smooth guitar resting comfortably atop my chest, and my speakerphones blaring music from my iPod shuffle.  Despite the fact that I was now a member of a world famous “boy band”—we hate the word, but I guess it has snuck its way into our vocabulary now—and I could definitely afford a much nicer mp3 player, I honestly didn’t mind having a simple iPod shuffle.  To be honest, I think I admired it most for its sheer simplicity, and for the fact that it did exactly what it was supposed to do without sugar coating anything.  It played good music.  The end.

Wow Niall, quite the philosopher, hey? I thought to myself, beginning yet another one of my “in-my-head conversations” where the only person speaking was a lonely, frustrated me. 

“Well: maybe if the boys hadn’t left you alone to go on dates with their girlfriends, you would have someone to talk to right now…”  the other side of me responded harshly.  He was always picking an argument, that one.

I knew where this was headed, and despite this realization, I continued on with my sorry attitude.  See, there was a part of me that constantly enjoyed reminding myself of the sad fact that I was totally—and most likely, permanently—alone.  I knew that wallowing in my sorrows wouldn’t help me out, so I figured I would continue to envelope myself in sadness.  Weird, I know.  

Liam had Dani, Harry had Taylor, Zayn had Perrie, and Lou—surprisingly—still had Eleanor.  And they were all very happy.  From watching my mates and my best girl friends fall in and out of love, I’d been able to learn so much about the forever-puzzling female population, and I felt like it was my turn to prove all lovely girls wrong—not all guys are perverts, you know.  I wasn’t exactly jealous of the lads, but I almost felt betrayed; I just wanted someone to give me a chance.

            “Ya.. I should probably eat something before this gets too sappy.” I spoke aloud, the bouncing of my voice off the walls an ever-present reminder of the fact that I was here by myself.  With a loud huffing noise, I pushed my tired body off from the bed and strolled over to the desk in our room.  It didn’t take long for me to find the white Hotel card outlining the many room service options.  My eyes immediately settled on the last bullet point: club sandwich with bacon, lettuce, tomato, mayo, ham, and more mm mm double-decker goodness.  “Yup,” I confirmed, licking my lips, “Room service it is.” 

I checked off the bottom option and hurriedly slipped the paper under our door.

That should be here shortly…

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

I peered forward uncomfortably on my bed to check the clock, the sheets pulling against my movement. 

It read 7:30.  No food, and still no boys.  Freaking perfect.

Holy crap, I ordered my food like, 23 minutes ago, where the heck was it?

*Eye rolls*

I ignored the rumbling of my stomach and reached over to the bed-side table for the remote, huffing as I finally grasped it and pressed my back against the soft pillow once again.

Ahh.  Reunited.  Maybe we should celebrate this event with some food..

Too soon?  Never mind..