Hotel Rooms [n.h]

[ 2 ]

Niall Horan

I gulped as I neared the exit, my heart was practically in my throat. The arena had been packed with bustling, excited fans, all anxious to get a glimpse of us. The show was great, we'd played Little Things and when my solo came on, it amazed me how many people sang along. I let them sing the last line and honestly it made my insides all fuzzy.

I watched on as Louis and Liam clambered into the van. Harry's hands sat comfortably on my shoulders as he guided me through the crowd. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at the stupidness of this. Security always paired us up (Zayn always being left out) and we always stuck together so that we 'wouldn't get lost' in the fans.

We never usually took this long, we were normally in and out. It was easy. But today there were a lot of fans here - I was scared, a little, and my throat was tight.

Harry gave me a light push towards the door and I reached out for the handle. I clutched on before sliding in, letting the fake smile slip off my face and I squeezed beside Louis and Harry on my other side.

"Mental." Harry said, shaking his head as the security guard slammed the door closed. I stared right ahead, before taking a long, deep, breath.

My phone vibrated again in my pocket, and I reached for it, sliding open the message. I mentally groaned; it was from an unknown number which usually meant that my phone number had been leaked.

Hi Niall it's Amelia.

That's what the first message read, and I frowned. Why was Amelia contacting me?

I still love you.

Unbeknownst to me, Harry was reading over my shoulder and his little snort caused me to jump lightly. I looked at him before locking my phone and sliding it under my leg.

"What does she want?"

The boys never liked Amelia. We weren't together long, either, about two months. I remember the weird looks the boys gave her, and I noticed how she always acted up around them. She began to act up so much that even behind closed doors she was vile, and I broke it off with her immediately. I cut her out of my life because she was beginning to get fame-thirsty and she began using my money a lot more. I unfollowed her on Twitter and Instagram, and unfriended her on Facebook and Snapchat. That was it. We were done.

Until... I got this message, three months along the line.

.

.

.

I blocked her number.

When we got to our hotel in Essex, I had blocked the number and turned off my phone, fed up of reading harsh comments over Twitter, and fed up of the constant friend requests from Amelia.

The hotel room was fancy; it was white walled with one wall wallpapered, floral designs coating it. The bed was in the middle of the wallpapered wall, and either side of it were brown beside tables.

My mind thought to check the mini fridge. I did. There were snacks and different drinks to indulge on, which I did. There were chocolates and crisps but I'd munched away happily on the fruit provided as I knew that my diet consisted of way too many fatty and sugary foods.

Literally yesterday I ate McDonald's breakfast, KFC for lunch and for dinner we went to Nandos.

Unhealthy.

By the time I collapsed in my bed, pajama clad and sleep deprived, it was 11:45. My day had been long and I was confused about Amelia's texts. Why, after three months, am I getting messages off her telling me that she 'still loves me'? I didn't know she even loved me in the first place. Maybe she loved my money and credit card, and the items I provided for her.

God she was so materialistic.

Everything was about stuff. She'd revolve her days around shopping for her wardrobe, and she had different closets for each season - each closet full to the brim and almost bursting. I could tell she'd been through a lot of boyfriends and famous people to get that amount of designer clothes, because working as a barmaid isn't the greatest pay.

Amelia and I fought a lot. Looking back, I can't understand why I ever got with her, as we fought like cat and dog. She was all about the fame and I wasn't. I enjoyed cosy nights in by the fire, eating biscuits and sipping at hot chocolate, watching movies while surrounded by quilts and blankets. She, however, preferred shopping, followed by an expensive, overpriced meal at a fancy, overpriced restaurant, where she would pout and flutter her eyelashes at every cute waiter, and often gathered a fair amount of phone numbers. After that she'd insist on something out in the open, where we could be seen by paparazzi, such as ice skating or rollerblading. She loved to do that sort of thing, and I loathed it.

She knew I loathed it. That's half the reason why she liked it so much.

I rolled over in my bed and took a long whiff of the bedsheets, smiling to myself as the fresh scent of washing detergent filled my nostrils. As I was getting close to my sleep, I heard a cute child's voice singing outside of my door, and a faint smile crossed my lips at the sound of the Friends theme song.

My smile grew as I heard Liam and Louis' chatter and then their voices twining with the child's. There was then some thumps and a female giggle and I realized that they were all dancing in the corridor.

Kids.

I rolled over again and stared up at the ceiling until the noise stopped. When the door slammed next door, signaling people had dispersed, I sighed and stretched out.

And as my eyes slid closed, nearing the awaited sleep, I was jolted awake by the shrill cry from the room beside me.

I sighed, knowing I was neighboring that very child from outside, that was clearly having trouble sleeping, so I threw the cushion over my ears and rolled over once more.

This was going to be a long night.