I wanted Harry to notice me in the crowds of people. I understood all those fans that believed Harry would never notice them because quite frankly I felt he never noticed me.
He was always with one of the other lads and I felt left out. I felt like Harry hated me and that drove me to the point of tears. The thought of the person who made your heart beat like crazy hates you. Even if I was able to make myself more attractive I would get nothing out of it. Harry was straight and even if he wasn't I was last on his list, if I was even on it at all.
Awhile back I got to the point of starving myself as one day Harry pointed out my growing stomach and made a joke of Liam's abs being "sexy". I couldn't help but agree. I also couldn't help agreeing that my body wasn't meeting up to his standards. I had to stop, though, because I passed out during rehearsals. Liam scolded me when he heard the doctor explain my anorexia but that didn't make me want to stop. I was still fat.
To please Liam, i ate in front of him. When I noticed his content smile, I would excuse myself to the bathroom and throw up the disgusting contents in my stomach. I hated the feeling of throwing up but it was worth it, if I was slimming down for Harry.
I was steadily losing weight as bulimia didn't get rid of all of the carbs. I stuck to supplement pills so Liam wouldn't notice my deteriorating body. I thought I was making progress until I went on twitter to find hundreds of comments about my appearance.
"Niall is looking worse everyday"
"I thought Niall couldn't get uglier, guess I was wrong!"
"This is why Niall never has a girlfriend"
"Those braces are definitely not helping"
I was crushed by these tweets. If this is what girls thought of me, then what did Harry think? "He thinks you're filthy. Go look in a mirror" "You're disgusting! Harry would never like someone like you"
Disturbing thoughts rushed through my head and I felt my stomach turn over. I ran to the bathroom and grasped the porcelain seat that I have grown accustomed to. This shouldn't feel different but it did.
Instead of forcing myself to do this, I couldn't stop my body. It was like I was trying to get rid of every nasty part of me.
I wiped my mouth and slowly started to brush my teeth. I reluctantly looked in the mirror and saw how bad I looked. My eyes sunk into my head, all signs of life has been drained. My natural smile is long gone. I looked like another person. This ugly image caused heat to flow
throughout my body. I felt the heavy impact of my fist against the glass. I kept the heavy contact up, repeatedly punching the small remains of glass. I looked at my bloody hands and began to shake. I
fell to the ground generously layered in shards of glass. I brought my knees to my chest and cried.
The next day, I went to rehearsals with thoroughly bandaged hands. This was the one time I'm glad I took first aid. The lads looked at me shock but I gave them no background even after Liam's constant nagging. I remained silent throughout the rehearsals until our manager yelled at me. I didn't care. My body was too numb to care.
Liam told me to sit out for awhile and I watched the other lads. They worked so well together. I started to believe they didn't need me.
That night the lads decided to go out to a club. I didn't comply at first by the unwanted whining of Louis and Zayn. "Niall, please come with us," I heard the words spoken slowly by a husky voice. I looked at the pleading green orbs. I slowly nodded and we went to the club.
I was able to get a few beers down when I noticed the curly haired lad dancing with a skanky blonde haired slut. I caught the tall lads gaze and he motioned for me to come over.
