Niall The Bread

Why Don't We Go There

"I haven't eaten breakfast," Harry said.

Niall and Harry were looking around for a place to eat. Harry had forgotten to eat breakfast because he was running late. Niall had eaten already but he was still hungry, you know, being Niall and all.

"Is that a bed and breakfast?" Harry pointed towards a building that clearly said 'bed and breakfast' in big letters.

"No, it isn't bed and breakfast. It does not have 'bed and breakfast' written on it. It is obviously a dry cleaner." Niall said this sarcastically, but Harry didn't seem to have noticed. "IT IS A BED AND BREAKFAST YOU DUMBASS!" Niall stood on Harry's shoulder, keeping from falling by holding onto his earlobe.

"I just haven't been in this part of town in some time."

Niall sat back down.

They went inside the small establishment. It seemed to be family-run. There were pictures on the wall from what looked like fifty years ago. This reminded Harry of something.

"I need to post something for my Instagram."

"Instagram? You mean Instagrain." Niall looked at Harry with a confused expression.

"What's Instagrain?" Asked Harry.

"It's where you post pictures and your biscuits can give you crumbs." Niall explained this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Instagram is pretty much the same thing, but we have followers and likes."

"Wherever you please," A teenage girl with bags under her eyes motioned towards the mostly vacant tables. She took a look at Niall perked on Harry's shoulder and mumbled something in the lines of, "wow, it's really effective," and walked into the kitchen.

The boys sat down on a booth in the corner. The girl walked out again with a menu in hand.

"Today's special is the Breakfast Tortilla." She said this with droopy eyes.

"What's in the Breakfast Tortilla?" Asked Harry.

The girl didn't respond and instead went back into the kitchen.

"Pretty good service around here." Mumbled Niall.

Harry decided against the Breakfast Tortilla and concluded he would order what he usually got for breakfast in restaurants–French Toast.

Niall kept looking at the menu trying to decide what he should order for himself. "Maybe I'll try the chicken and waffles. It scares me how much they use bread in this restaurant."

Oh no, Harry wanted French Toast and his new partner in crime was basically the key ingredient to them. Should he order them? Harry imagined Niall ordering a human at a restaurant. That would be fucked up, he thought, I don't want Niall to be scared that I could eat him any given moment but I really want those French Toast. This was no choice, Harry knew what to do.

Out of the kitchen came the girl holding a small notepad. Niall got the chicken and waffles. Then It was Harry's turn to order.

"French Toast."

Niall quickly looked up at the boy with a what seemed to be disappointment. Harry had basically ordered him for breakfast. Niall was starting to move past his stupidity. Now Niall wasn't sure if there was anything to be done. Niall reminisced on when he called Harry a dumbass five minutes ago. Would things ever go back to the way they were?

The girl took away the menu and went to the kitchen once again.

Niall squinted at Harry and crossed his arms. Harry could not meet Niall's eyes; his actions were deplorable. Harry felt disgusted with himself, so disgusted that he felt bile rising up his throat. He sprinted to the bathroom, kneeled down on the toilet and discarded the macaroni and cheese he had eaten last night.

After flushing down all his vomit, he went to the sinks and washed his hands. He threw water on his face. The scene looked like a low budget version of a Clinique commercial. Harry was drying his hands when the door opened. Niall stood there.

"You alright, mate?" Niall asked.

"I'm just a little woozy, that's all." Retorted Harry.

Just as they were going to walk out of the bathroom Harry stopped in his tracks.

"What is it, Harry?" Niall tried to see what Harry was staring at.

"I've finally found the perfect picture for my Instagram!" Harry got out his phone and took a picture of the bathroom's tiled wall.

"The wall? That's the thing you wanted?" Niall looked confused as to why Harry would choose such a boring thing for his profile.

"Look," Harry pointed towards a massive dead cockroach.

Niall ended up discarding one fourth of what he'd eaten this morning which was two times more than what Harry puked out.

-
Ok guys, sing it with me:

I am trash, I am trash, I am T-R-A-S-H!

Trash!

*jazz hands*