Two {n.h.}

(Not So) Natural

Somehow, Niall always seemed to bring James out of his high, grounding him and making him realize what he'd done every time. Locked in his room, James looked at himself in the mirror, hating the similarities between him and his brother. They looked exactly the same, the over dyed blonde hair, brown roots, share nose, thin pink lips, and dimpled chin. People still confused him and his brother despite the difference in apparel; Niall's being more sporty and prep and James' simple black clothing with little variation in the shirts and ripped jeans, not to mention the amount of tattoos and piercings. He had to do something to change it up a bit more, something that everyone would blatantly see.

James called up his partner in crime, "Zayn, should I cut my hair or dye it?" because he's down, Zayn's coming down with him.

"Well, you just bleached your hair last month-"

"Not blonde, I'm thinking about going back to my natural hair color. So people can't confuse me and Niall from the back, he's gonna end up taking credit for my misdemeanors." He chuckled at the last part. It was virtually impossible for that to happen since the entire town knew Niall wouldn't do or say half the shit he does.

"Hm, alright, let's make you a brunette. Are you sure though? You're gonna lose your only excuse for being an idiot."

"Asshole, get over here and help me."

James sat on his bed, scrolling through his social media and searching for parties while waiting for Zayn. His phone buzzed in the middle of him tweeting from Louis, a guy he and Zayn occasionally smoke up with whenever Louis is in the mood.

Louis: yo theres a party at mine 2nite if ur down

James: u read my mind

He had his plans for the night and all that was left was — "James, Zayn is here!" his hair, which had just arrived. James met Zayn downstairs and led him to his room upstairs where James stripped off his shirt and got comfortable while Zayn prepared the dye.

"So why do you really wanna dye your hair? Is it really so your brother won't get credit for your shit?" He said while applying the brown goop to James' hair.

"Yea, I mean, my stud reputation is gonna get ruined if girls keep talking about how shocked and apologetic 'I' looked when they bitched me out." Zayn made a sarcastic noise of agreement.

"You know that I'm your best friend, right?" "Mhm." "And that I can see past your bullshit, right?" "Mh- what bullshit?"

Zayn sighed. "Dude, I know how much you love your brother despite what you say about him and your parents. I can hear it in your bitching. I'm pretty sure you're actually dying your hair so your brother doesn't have to deal with trying to pick up your mess."

"Well, you're wrong. I couldn't care less about what he has to deal with." He huffed adamantly. Why would he care? It's not like Niall had a lot on his plate being the perfect son. It came naturally to him. "On to more important matters, we're going to a party tonight at Louis'."

"Louis'? Sick, that guy has many different friends," Zayn reached to a new part and the cold dye made James shiver, "with many different connections." He thought of what that meant, Zayn would probably do a few lines and he might fuck a girl or two. Louis wasn't the type to judge, making friends with just about anyone including James and Niall, and he always invited all his friends to his parties, meaning sluts galore.