If I'm Louder - Niall Horan Fanfic

Chapter 47 - Bullied

I curl up to my blanket, when did this couch get so hard? This is a La-Z-Boy. What the hell happened to comfortablility with them. What? Did they wake up one day and said 'Oh, how about we fuck over all our loyal clients?'.

I groan and hit the cushion. It was hard.

I hear snickering.

What the fuck?

I wiggle around, spreading my legs and arms out. Then someone groans in pain.

More snickering.

"Shut the fuck uuuuupppp!" I whine cracking my eyes open. I saw dark blue, denim, skinny jeans. I shoot up, falling into the floor of the van. They burst out laughing, except for my cousin who was currently holding his crotch... oops. Ah, whatever. He deserves it, anyway.

"Are you okay, love?" Liam asks, helping me up into an empty seat.

"One: Who's crotch was in my face? Two: Why? Three: No, seriously, why the fuck did you lut that there? And four: Where are we going?" I ask. My eyebrows furrowed together. A frown on my lips.

They laugh at my first three questions.

"One: Niall's. Two: Because. Three: Because you put it there with that whole tossing and turning habit of yours. And four-" Harry starts before Louis cuts in.

"WE GOING TO THE ELLEN SHOW STUDIO BEOTCH!" He adds a sassy snap to it.

I grin a bit before a frown replaces it. "What did the fans think of my episode?"

They all went silent. The tension in the air rising. "Ummmm..." Liam starts.

"Yeah?" I raise an eyebrow.

"There were a lot of Twitter questions about what happened to you and if you were alright." Zayn tells me.

"We didn't know if you wanted people to know about your seizures so we just said that you were sick." says Niall.

I nod, not saying a word.

"You're gonna be okay right?" Harry asks. "You're not feeling weird or anything?"

"I do feel weird about this taste, for God's sake, SOMEONE GET ME A WISP, PLEASE!" I cry out.

"Here, one of the girls left it in here." Zayn hands me a pack of cinnamon wisps.

I pop one out and brush my teeth. It helped a lot. My mouth didn't have that acid taste anymore. By the way, I no longer eat eggs for breakfast. It wasn't as pretty coming up as it was going down.

It didn't exactly taste like cinnamon, but eh.

I took out a second one. Only one tiny travel sized toothbrush can brush so many teeth.

It tasted more like cinnamon this time.

"Thanks." I mumble and reach around to the front where Paul sat in the driver's seat.

I turned the radio up and started to flip through the channels for a good song.

I smile as I come across Cups by Anna Kendrick.

Almost everyone in New York knows how to play Cups with just a sidewalk and a plastic cup. It was my favorite pass time.

I immediately start singing along. The song was already halfway through.

"Oh, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone.

I've got my ticket for the long way round.

The one with the prettiest of views.