Pick The One... (COMPLETED)

Chapter 18 - The Realization

Chapter 18 – The Realization

Niall’s P.O.V.

I lazily walked towards the studio’s entrance, holding my very heavy guitar with one hand and waving the fans with the other. Their high-pitched screams nearly deafened me, but I couldn’t complain at all, knowing what my reaction was when I’d met Justin. However, the studio was sound proof and as soon as I entered it, I was surrounded by a calmer environment. As usual, the building wasn’t filled with forever-smiling employees but with newbie artists and managers in their forties with bald heads and beer bellies trying to explain them how things work. It was funny to think that we were the same a few years ago… I shrugged off all these memories that brought the melancholia back and made my way towards the elevators, casually greeting a few people here and there. Some girl group formed of fans started to squeal and whisper quietly, but the elevator’s doors closed before they got the chance to ask for an autograph. I pressed the 6th floor button and waited patiently to get to the floor. Meanwhile I checked my hand watch, hoping I’m not late.  9.56, perfect.

A soft “ding” announced that my ride was over. I picked up my guitar again, this time having some trouble with the balance, and made big, tired steps towards our recording room. Nothing had changed; I was still sucked out of life, the same rude, annoying bastard my feelings have turned me into. The truth was, no matter how I wanted to change, I couldn’t do anything about my current mood. And it really did suck because this was not only withdrawing my friends, but Rosie, too. She was changing me and even my brother had noticed my strange attitude.

I opened the door and entered the recording room. I dumped my guitar somewhere next to a sofa and waved at Harry and Jack. They both greeted me back with awkward glares and continued their conversation about travelling during the night. I decided to ignore such a stupid topic and took a can of coke from our mini fridge instead.

“Rosie’s late as usual, huh?” I noticed with a sarcastic laugh as I fell on the sofa and drank from my beverage. Harry glared at me and mumbled something like “She said she’d be here soon,” then turned away. On the other hand, Jack looked at the watch and shot me an apologetic look.

The minutes passed by quickly; now the boys were talking about ways of cleaning leather seats and Rosie was still nowhere to be seen. I would’ve texted her or something, but I’m not really interested in her schedule. Maybe I was happy she wasn’t there, making me suffer with her perfection. Oh, who was I kidding? I was the one who wanted her there the most. I wanted her to walk in and amaze everyone when she flicked her hair or when she spoke. I wanted her to come here and sit next to me and try to make conversation with me, but I would cut her off quickly. Honestly, I really didn’t hate her. I didn’t know what my feelings for here were, either, but that’s another thing. However, behind all my rudeness, mean comments and disrespectful behavior, I was afraid not to screw it up. I would’ve rather not talk to her than stutter and make a fool of myself. I would’ve rather move away from her than shake nervously. I would’ve rather deny the truth than admit it.

Out of nowhere, the door flew open, nearly scratching the paint on the wall, and Rose walked in nonchalantly, as if nothing’s happened. She waved and smiled at us, but it soon faded away as she caught a glimpse of something behind her. She cocked her head to one side and pouted a bit, motioning something to come it.

“Hello… Zayn?” Harry’s cheerful greeting suddenly interrupted. I stood up to see what was really happening and indeed Zayn was walking shyly in the room, smiling awkwardly like he was apologizing.

“Zayn, man, it’s Monday…” Jack said confused, trying to solve the confusion. Zayn nodded in understanding then looked at Rosie.

“Oh, I invited him!” she explained. “Sorry for being late, by the way, he nearly didn’t want to come today. But there’s no problem with Zayn being here, right?”

Jack shook his head quickly, motioning the two of them to sit down; Harry didn’t protest either, although there was a glint of jealousy in his eyes. I, on the other hand, puffed and rolled my eyes, catching all the attention.

“Where are Liam and Louis? What, you didn’t spell them to obey your every word, too?” I spat sarcastically. “Come on, Zayn, I thought you could resist her. But no, you have to be head over heels about her, too. Honestly, I’m sorry for all of you because she’s playing with everyone’s heart,” I warned, pointing at each of them.

“Niall, what…” said Rosie as she furrowed her brows. “I’m not playing with anyone…”

“Niall, stop, for God’s sake! She’s not playing with anyone, she’s the victim. Your victim!” replied Zayn. “All you do is criticize her and act like a twat whenever she’s in the room. What has happened to you, Niall, the boy who could never hate anyone?”

“I don’t hate Rosie,” I whispered quietly. And I didn’t. I loved Rosie.