In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Seventy-One

In Other Words…Chapter Seventy-One 

Roxy’s POV

I sat in front of the computer screen, fiddling with my hair as I watched in the webcam, my mother launching into the same speech she’d already given me twice. I knew in my heart what I wanted.

“He loves you.” She said. As if I didn’t know, and as if those three words could clear out all of the other crap floating around in my head.  She must be running out of ways to rephrase the same general argument: I need to tell Niall that we should open up this bar together.  I am just struggling with my own pride. Everything I’ve ever done I’ve made happen for myself. But, I’m tired of going around and around in my own brain about it. I’ve done it so many times over this past year: the house, the car, the job.

It’s just making me crazy.

I am beginning to think I’ve been looking at it all wrong. It wasn’t a matter of having to accept a golden ticket, but to let him stand beside me and provide the occasional shoulder to steady myself upon.  And that wasn’t such a bad thing, right?

“He loves you.” She repeated. “So quit stalling and give him an answer.”

“I will, mom. I’m just…”

“You’re being an asshole!” my dad shouted, off-camera. “Why can’t you see that this isn’t about you? It’s about you and him.”  My mom turned toward him and held a notepad over the lens as she spoke to him quickly and quietly, only the ‘s’ sound making its way through the speakers on my computer . “No, I’m watching the game. She can hear me just fine.” My father wasn’t usually so gruff.

“You’ve been talking to him.” I said as I realized it. I could hear the T.V. in the background. “Haven’t you, Dad?” He grunted. “Niall’s been calling you about this? Or email?” Mom stared blankly into the lens, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible, which told me all I needed to know. “He’s calling to complain about me to my parents?” I laughed.

“Don’t you worry about what Niall and I talk about.” My dad answered back. “Just quit being an asshole, Annie. We raised you better.”

Niall’s POV

Six o’clock came up without warning, my eyes falling upon the clock that hung at the front of the sound booth. I jogged over to the edge of our makeshift stage, my mobile stashed atop the speaker with four empty water bottles labeled “NH”.  I’m here. Her text said, sent five minutes ago. “Shit.” I muttered, knowing she was sitting outside the building in her car, certain there was still a sizeable crowd of girls clamoring for a glance at us, at anyone affiliated with the band. Girlfriends included. “Give me a second.” I said aloud, the choreographer nodding as Zayn walked through the blocking once more.

The long and late hours we’ve been keeping were beginning to wear us out, but it was all necessary.  There had been many heated discussions, several examinations of the pros and the cons, two full-blown arguments and one final agreement that we would combine the promotion for our next album with a full tour, instead of separating the two. It would be more work , and a longer stretch away from home initially, but it meant that after all was said and done, we’d have a few months off before starting the process all over again, just like we’d done four  times in the last six years.

By the time I got home at night, I was just exhausted and didn’t even want to think about work stuff, let alone talk about it with Roxy. And since up until two days ago, the tour thing was sort of up in the air, I’d left her out of the loop; not wanting the news to rattle her, or to let that influence the decision I knew was still weighing on her mind.  This morning, the five of us had signed on the dotted line, and it was a done deal.  I was excited, but it was daunting to know that the next few months were going to be full-on madness. Our team was in high-gear, booking the venues, churning out the merchandise, setting up our itinerary in cities across the globe.  And the five of us simply needed to put the final touches on the album, rehearse the show and pack our bags.