Trust, Love, and Lost Relations

Bad Feelings

Niall's P.O.V.

We had been on tour for three months and were getting ready for our last London show before the break. My anxiety had been skyrocketing since I found out Felicity was missing. I couldn't play guitar, because my hands were never steady enough, and I had almost missed my cues and notes more times than acceptable.

I had tried to leave early, because I knew I was holding the rest of the boys back, but they said it was better if I stayed and let the girls deal with it. I immediately tried to argue, but they had interrupted me before I could and told me we only had a month left before the break and that they needed me. I knew it wasn't true, but I dropped the argument.

I'd been distant since then. From all of them, from the boys, the girls. The only person I actually talked to was Clarissa. She knew how I felt. And I didn't particularly want to talk to the others to begin with, after they tried to hide her kidnapping from me.

"Five minutes, Niall," one of the stage assistants told me. I nodded, grabbing my mic and composing myself. I can't let the fans know that i'm anxious. That's something they would immediately pick up on, and then rumors would fly everywhere which would be disastrous for all of us.

This one last show, Niall. And then you can go look for Felicity as much as you want to. You can freely worry and get angry and be sad without being judged. Just one more show...

I heard the screams from the arena as the countdown to the show started. I took a few deep breaths, shaking myself out of my thoughts and plastering a happy face on. "Niall," Harry tried to say to me. I looked at him blankly and then faced forward again. "Niall, please." I ignored him. "Ni-" he was cut off as the platform started to rise and he dropped the conversation.

I sang my solos with practiced precision, pretending that Felicity was fine and that I'd be able to see her when I got home. I didn't miss any cues or notes, and successfully pretended to be happy for the full three hours.

When the show ended, we all said our goodbyes and bowed before going backstage for costume change for the encore. Harry tried to talk to me again, but I ignored him. I quickly changed, going back to stand by the platform before the boys could try to talk to me.

I was standing there when I was suddenly overcome by this feeling of wrongness. Like something bad was about to happen. I'd had these feelings before. I mean, every once in a while I'd get nervous about a show and feel like everything was going to blow up on our faces. It had happened plenty of times. But this was different. I physically almost fell over at the sudden feeling.

I was mentally freaking out. "Boys!" I called as a last resort, collapsing on the floor. They all came rushing in, collapsing over each other in their haste. Liam got to me first, grabbing my elbow, "Ni, what happened?"

I stood shakily, nothing but Liam's support keeping me upright. "I-i don't know," I told him honestly, "I just sud-suddenly had th-this really bad f-feling and then I collapsed," I explained shakily. Then suddenly the shaking stopped and the bad feeling disappeared. I stood up straight and pulled away from Liam. "Ni?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes?" I asked, suddenly in a super good mood.

"Are you... ok?" He asked slowly.
"What? Yeah I'm brilliant," I replied.
"Are you sure?" Louis asked skeptically.
"Yeah. Come on lads, we have a show to perform."

I walked onto the platform with a bounce in my step, adrenaline already coursing through my body. They followed slowly after me. The platform rose and I immediately ran onto the stage, a huge grin on my face. A real one this time. I grabbed my guitar from offstage and started the first few chords of Ready to Run.