Crossroads of Life

Chapter 19

Bailey’s POV:

I fell asleep in Niall’s arms last night and just before I closed my eyes, I remembered something he said, just before I climbed into bed.

It hadn’t registered at first, but just as I was slipping into my dreams, his voice rang in my ears, kind of tormenting me. “Yeah, ‘course. Don’t want ya to get sick that’s for sure.”

Niall didn’t know. He didn’t understand the meaning behind his words. I was already sick.. but I would never let him know that. Not until it’s too late, anyways.

***

The next few days blended together in my memory as the boys performed a number of shows at the O2 Arena in Dublin. Niall looked like he could float up into the atmosphere with his amount of happiness after each performance.

The other boys were awestruck too, but the entire situation hit Niall the hardest. He seemed to have finally realized just how far they’d all come.

The concerts went smoothly; only a few times police support had to be brought in to deal with the mass of people outside the arena.

We all kept fairly busy. I prepared for photo shoots and helped with a little bit of everything. Niall and I didn’t have any more, uh, make out sessions, being so preoccupied with everything else. Not to mention sharing a room with Liam. I got my own bed back too, because Liam was feeling remarkably better.

Niall woke up in the middle of the night a few times, positive that Liam was fast asleep, and crawled into bed next to me. When he thought I was sleeping, he would whisper to me, singing song lyrics or just stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

I listened intently as he told me all of his worries, his insecurities, and even his guilt about kissing the pink headed girl. He hadn’t confronted me about it yet, but I knew he planned to.

Little did he know that I was already over it, I knew she meant nothing to him. But I let him talk to me while I ‘slept’ anyway, wanting to fall asleep to his voice.

When Niall didn’t crawl into bed next to me, he held my hand while we slept, our arms both hanging off the edge of the mattress, fingers entwined in the center, suspended over the carpet of the hotel room.

Throughout our time in Ireland, fans started to recognize me, as odd as it sounds. One time I went out to a pharmacy in the middle of the night, craving Red Vines, when a group of girls stopped me while I was exiting the store.

“Hi, uhm. Are you Bailey? Bailey Decker?” A brunette girl asked just before I pushed the door open.

“Uh, yeah that’s me. Do I know you?” I asked politely, a little confused.

“No, we- we don’t.. but you’re One Direction’s tour manager, right?” her friend asked, stepping out from behind the group.

“Sort of, I’m Paul’s intern,” I responded, assuming they knew who Paul was. Sometimes at concerts or signings, girls would hold signs asking Paul to adopt them.

“Can we get a picture with you?” another girl, in a thick Irish accent, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Uhh.. sure,” I laughed, pulling the hood of my coat off and stepping closer to them. I was a little shocked that they even knew my name, never mind wanted a picture. They must be the most hardcore fans in Ireland, I thought, refusing to believe the situation.

I stood in the middle of the group of girls as they took several pictures. I pulled funny faces in some of them, while the girls laughed and asked me questions. “So are you staying with the boys?” “What’s it like on tour with them?” “Do you go out partying with them?” “Who’s your favourite?” “What’s Zayn like when he’s drunk?” “Do you fancy any of them?” “Do you ship Larry?” “You realize you’re the luckiest girl on the planet, right?” and those were just a few.