Saving Mattie (nh)

Chapter 15: Darcy

"What the hell Mattie! You ignore me for two weeks, miss graduation, and now I get a bloody call, saying you need to come over! And here you are, looking like hell." Darcy yelped, tugging me inside the warmth of her house.

I sighed. Way to make me feel better. "I-I'm sorry for ignoring you, I... was busy."

"Busy! Busy?! Mattie, I'm your best friend! You need to make time to see me!"

"Darcy, I'm sorry! Truly, I am!"

"I won't forgive you until you tell me what- or who- has been taking up your time the past few days! Is this that 'friend' you were with the night if graduation?"

Hearing of him sent a fresh bout if sadness and anger though me. "Listen, I'll tell you tomorrow, but can I stay the night?" I asked, hopeful.

Darcy studied me for a few moments, her hazel eye taking in my whole, post-sobbing face. It was silent for a moment, before she tugged me into a big hug. "Of course you can, take the guest room." she mumbled into my hair.

Like James did.

I pulled out of her arms, tears pricking at my eyes. "Y-Yeah. I'll go to bed then."

Darcy smiled, a little sadly. "You can borrow my pyjamas." she suggested taking in my disheveled state. "Looks like you might need them."

I glanced down, and indeed, I was a mess. The white sweater I had thrown on was dirty, stained from the smog I had walked through to get here. My leggings were scuffed, my boots caked in a fine layer of scum. I looked disgusting.

"Thanks... and could I have a shower too?"

***

Running a hand through my tattered, damp hair, I flopped onto the bed in the guest room. That shower was nice, I'm not gonna lie.

Darcy's family was loaded. Rich. They had a lovely flat in the centre of London, every room adorned with paintings and expensive furniture, but it still didn't compare to the luxury of James'. Her mum was a lawyer, he father a doctor, and they were rarely home. She hates them for it.

Ungrateful little shit.

Even the pyjamas that she gave me were luxurious. Silk. It'd take me months to be able to buy those.

Rolling over, I flicked on the bedside lamp. Light illuminated the while walls, making them glow yellow. He guest room even screamed rich. Fluffy navy bedspread, television mounted on the wall, potted plants in the corners, and expensive-looking dècor everywhere. I was used to it by now though, having stayed here multiple times before, usually when my mom was extremely intoxicated.

Sometimes I didn't get out fast enough, like last time.

Sighing, I reached over and plucked the remote from the bedside table. Turning to the telly, I flicked it on. Almost instantly, I wished I hadn't.

StarWatch: Niall Horan Spotted Walking! The title screamed, its white font blinding. Naturally, there was a picture above of Niall himself, smiling. My heart twisted.

The picture changed, now showing a video clip. Screaming fans and paparazi alike were shouting his name, until it became nothing more than a mass of yells. Cameras flashed, videos recorded, and in the middle of it all, he was being thrashed around like a rag doll.

His head was kept low as he struggled to power through everyone. "Please, excuse-excuse me!" he yelled, his voice barely audible over the screams of everyone. He stopped every once in a while to sign a scrap of paper, or take a picture, but he continued to power through at a steady pace.