The Bucket List (A Niall Horan Fanfic)

Chapter 24: Moons, Messes, Making Fun

            I sat alone in the empty and hallow room. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I suddenly realized how cold it was. There was something about singing that was sort of like exercising. It sucked the energy right out of you but left you with some sort of filling feeling that resonated from the inside out. I slowly leaned my head back so that it grazed the wall behind me as I closed my heavy eyes and tried to think the whole situation through. If Niall was this upset with a lie like this, then what would he say when he found out that I wasn’t even Hope Carter?

Suddenly I realized that if he had left the studio, I had no money on me to get a cab back to the hotel. The thought snapped me back into reality as I stood up as quickly as I could and grabbed my purse that was sitting in the floor, while running out the door. I heaved open the heavy glass door that lead open to the parking lot and stopped to a halt when I saw Niall standing in the pitch black with his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes glued to the ground. I let out a breath of relief. He looked up when I came out, but looked back down, kicking the ground as if there was an imaginary soccer ball in front of him. I so desperately wanted to run up to him and tell him that I would never tell him another lie again, but that would just be lie in itself. I wanted to be completely real with him. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to simply love him. But nothing about love is simple.

I stood there for a minute quite awkwardly until I decided that I couldn’t stand his harsh glares that he was striking at the ground, so I sat. the cement parking lot was hard and uncomfortable. I hugged my knees to my chest as I looked up at the clear night sky, every light that shone in the city kept every star from coming out. The only object that appeared in the sky that night was the moon. It was big and round and bright, like the moon tends to be on a clear Californian night. It was full, or at least it was getting there and all I felt that I could do was stair up at it until I realized that Niall wasn’t standing where he was before. I jerked my head to where he was shuffling to himself when I realized that he had sat down next to me and was gazing back at the moon as if the moon and him were having a staring contest.

“You know, I always wanted to go to the moon,” he confessed quietly as I looked at him apologetically.

“If we were stuck on the moon, just you and me, what would you tell me?” I asked, as if it was my own confession, turning my attention back to the moon.  I watched from the corner of my eye as he turned to look at me, gazing at me as if I was the moon.

“I would tell you...” he paused to think as he slowly rubbed his freshly shaven chin, “I would tell you that what school you go to doesn’t make you good enough, neither do your friends, or even your voice or how well you can play. What makes you good enough is when you’re just being your crazy lovely self.”

“Good enough for who?” I asked, licking my dried up lips, “It’s just me and you up there,” I reminded him.  

“Good enough for me.”

I placed my hand in Niall’s as he guided me into the limo. I couldn’t say that everything was fine between him and I. I knew there was still tension and that made me terrified. I sat next to him and Harry. I’m not sure why it always happened that way. I looked down at my fitted flowered dress and beige canvas pumps, placing my hands in my lap with a seemingly happy sigh. We were off to Ellen. Now I was happy about that. I looked around at the boys. They were making fools of themselves, hitting each over and squirming around like little girls. I laughed to myself knowing that in a few hours they would be sitting on a possibly red couch in matching outfits making fools out of themselves on nation television… and not even minding a bit.

One of the guitar players named Andy and I were talking backstage. He happened to be an Ellen fan too. My gaze suddenly went from Andy to behind him when the five boys walked out of their dressing rooms. There were girls following beside them as they walked towards us doing make up touch ups. Even though I pretended that it was normal, I secretly could never get over the fact that the boys wore makeup on stage. Andy turned around when he realized that I had lost interest in what he was saying. His rough features always reminded me of a hunter and his long blonde hair seemed to make his guitar playing even more epic.