In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Sixty Five

Roxy’s POV

“Whoa.” Eleanor said, stumbling into the table as she took the balloon from her lips and tied the stem into a tiny knot. “Dizzy.” We both laughed as she let it fall to the floor with all of the others, a mess of golds, purples and reds, of course. Everything had to tie in perfectly with the chosen color scheme. This wasn’t some rag-tag operation.

The table linens were pressed perfectly, spread over rented tables, gold-painted chairs tucked in around the taller ones, large brightly-colored pillows scattered on the floor next to the low ones. The ceiling was covered in billowing black muslin, clusters of clear lights tucked in behind it to look like stars in the night sky. The basement felt bigger than it actually was, and I was impressed that our vision had come together. El and I had this bright idea over drinks two weeks ago, and had made a mad scramble to get everything done. Of course, the fact that I was home from work during the day helped immensely, and I think we had managed to keep everything a secret from the boys.

Tonight, they would have a second chance at the magical night they chose to skip out on about five years ago. The girls were throwing them a Prom, or as Eleanor insists on calling it, A Formal.  Vanessa was tucked into one corner, the slip of paper with instructions on assembling the hookah laid out on the low table in front of her, tins of tobacco arranged neatly on a mirrored tray she’d borrowed from my dressing table. Allie went around, nestling tiny candles in the jars and trays filled with sand, leaving the wicks unlit until we were ready, her blonde hair pinned up perfectly. “Roxy!” Danielle called down. “You’re up next!” I hurried up the stairs, passing Perrie, her makeup was stunning, her alabaster skin flawless against her garnet-colored dress.

“One hour.” She announced. As the white van made its way down the driveway, the logo of the catering company displayed on the side, I was relieved that Perrie had talked me out of trying to make dinner myself. I certainly could have managed it, but it would have been a bit stressful. Plus, I didn’t have to do any dishes this way. I pressed the button on the wall, sending the garage door up on its track, so the two-man operation could begin bringing in their supplies.

“Come on it.” I said, holding the door. “Kitchen’s just that way.”

I made my way upstairs and sat down in the chair that we’d dragged into my bathroom, Danielle immediately attacking my hair with a comb. “Up or down?” she said, dragging a deep part through it with her fingers.

“Whatever you think.” I smiled.

Niall’s POV

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” Zayn nodded, our vocal coach tapping the melody on the piano keys as we each hummed along, agreeing. She made a check mark on the notepad beside her on the bench, and flipped through the stack of sheet music, looking for the next bit that needed reworking. We’d been locked in this room for the better part of six hours, and each scratch she made on that to-do list was one step closer to getting out of here and going home. We hit our stride about an hour in, but ever since lunch was delivered, the pace had slowed.

The door swung open, the small man who seemed to be in charge of this building on the weekends pushing a clothes rack through the doorway, the mess of keys clipped to his waist jingling loudly. The wheels of the rack squeaked along, the metal bar jammed with five black garment bags, the small plastic pockets at the right of the zipper stuffed with a card, labeled with each of our names. “Sorry to interrupt.” He said. “This was just delivered for you.”

I looked at Liam who shrugged, swishing a drink of water around his mouth before lobbing the empty bottle into the bin. Harry was the first to unzip his bag. “It’s a dinner suit.” He said, removing the contents oand laying it atop the piano. “There are even shoes in here.” The rest of us tore into our own bags, finding variations on the set Harry had revealed. I pulled the jacket on over my t shirt; it fit perfectly. I checked myself in the reflection of the window pane, slipping my hand into the pocket to strike a pose, and finding a slip of paper inside.