the journal - h.s.

29

[amber’s pov]

“I still can’t come over the fact that you weren’t the janitor telling us to get the hell out!”

I smiled at the blue eyed boy and shook my head slightly amused. It was Saturday which meant it had been exactly a week since I had pressed my downstairs neighbor’s doorbell to ask the name of that artist, which had been playing every morning the past several weeks. A green eyed girl had opened the door and smiled at me slightly confused asking what she could help me with. As I had started with ‘I was just wondering - the music’ she had cut me off and started apologizing repeatedly for the disturbance.

I smiled at the memory and took another sip of the Cuba Libre. As I had managed to convince the girl that I actually had been enjoying the music and wanted to know the name of the artist that Saturday morning last week she had narrowed her eyes in light puzzlement and told me to wait a second. “Niall!” She had yelled over her shoulder and into the apartment. Seconds later a blue eyed guy with messy bed hair had appeared behind her. Casually he had grabbed her waist and listened to my request.

It turned out my downstairs neighbor Niall Horan had excellent taste in music and was awfully polite - so polite he had insisted on showing me the record store in which he bought his music. We had gone there Tuesday. On Thursday he rang my doorbell to give me a copy of that very record he had been playing each morning. Also he had asked me to join him here tonight - Saturday night, since it was a place new bands usually came to play and the atmosphere was supposedly great.

And Niall was absolutely correct. I turned to him with a smile; “the atmosphere here is amazing! It’s like everyone is welcome ya know?”  

He nodded and took another sip of his nearly emptied beer, “yeah it’s really a gem this one. It was my girlfriend who showed me this place.” His face lit up with his words and I nodded. The sound level was very intense. All around us people chatted off excitedly. It was one of those places which was a mix between a bar, a café and with a small stage. Slightly bigger than Cafe du Acta where I worked - but the atmosphere was the same. Welcoming, warm and buzzing. I guessed most would start of their Saturday nights here with a couple of beers - hear a couple of bands and then move on into town to the nightclubs. Niall and me had come for the music mainly though - he had told me it was a great place for aspiring talents.

As I watched a guy appear on stage with a couple of wires in his hand my eyes drifted back to Niall who in the same moment finished his beer.

“So Horan - journalism uh? How did you get that passion?” He had proudly told me he was in his last year and had gotten an internship already at a pretty decent magazine.

A smile grew into place on his face, “honestly I have no idea. I’ve always loved to write though. Guess I just couldn’t see myself do anything else ya know?”

I smiled - I wished I felt that way about something. But I had about one thing though. For the past week. I had one thing I knew I would love to do for the rest of my life without complaining. But that implied entering the part of my thoughts titled 'Harry'. I had closed that part off. I had decided not to read more in the journal since it mostly just made me crave to learn more about him. And since that would never happen it would merely make me sad simply. Sad and frustrated. I knew that.

I’d been on the edge of asking Jenny about Harry a couple of times, as we had had some shifts together this week. But in the end I was glad I hadn’t - what if he thought I had been annoying? Seeing it all from a distance it seemed as a blurry surrealistic dream, which had been too good to be true. I still kept the journal with me though. And I still dreamt about beautiful sentences flying before my gaze when I couldn’t control my stream of thoughts in the night. Occasionally even a pair of green sad eyes would smile at me in the dark protectively.

That was partly why Niall’s enthusiasm had been my completely unexpected savior this week. Music had managed to keep my mind of him - though only the melodies. If I focused on the lyrics he would be everywhere again. Every word reminded me of him. Every topic they sang about I could somehow connect to him.

The brown haired guy on the stage was young - and his hair perfectly messy. Just the type of band-hair-messy, which seemed in at the moment. He had some facial hair, which made him look awfully mature and hipster, but he couldn’t be much older than me - maybe two or three years tops. He was bathed in the red stage light as he adjusted the mic stander not seeming to care about the fifty people in the room, who occasionally watched him while talking.

The stage was covered with wires, boosters and other electronic music equipment, which I would fear ruining even if I had simply held it in my hands. Another guy came in and whispered something to the brown haired fellow, that made him break into a beautiful laugh.

“You want another beer?” I rose half in the chair and watched Niall as he told me yes with a beam. It seemed to me the show was soon about to begin and I could definitely need a refill. As the room was terribly hot, I had already taken off my jacket, scarf and even my sweatshirt. Making my way to the bar a cracking sound was heard through the room - as if the mic had been turned on.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen we’ll begin in a few seconds.” I hadn’t heard the voice before, but it was comfortable and easy going. Careless but charming. I imagined it was the hipster guy with the brown hair, whom the voice belonged to. I couldn’t see it though, as a pillar shadowed my vision. I leaned up against it with the two glasses in my hands, while I waited in line for the bartender. I wondered where Harry was in the world? Then I swore mentally at myself for bringing him up.

I could hear the band was preparing to start, as the sound of a guitar quickly being tuned one last time was heard. The talking around the room dozed off gradually.

“Good evening - thank you for having us! Let me introduce us shortly; we’re Little Nothings and we’ll be the first to entertain you with a couple of songs this beautiful cold Saturday night." The drumbeat started building up. "So keep your lover tight, lean back, grab a beer and we hope you’ll enjoy. This first song is called Divided into Atoms…”

I smiled at the sound of his voice. I wasn’t sure what did it, but he had that fresh blow to it. That charming raspy voice, which you just knew could be equally sassy if he wanted it to. Divided into Atoms by Little Nothings. The room echoed with applause and I imagined how the guy would sent a smirk to the crowd, look at his bandmates and then he broke into the first vocal with the raspy smooth voice, just as the first note from the electrical guitar was dropped.

In the middle of the mess  - we’re caught up.

You and me.

Disappearing in the crowd as you back away.

Just keep breathing.

You and me - babe we all consist of stardust.

You and me - we’re simple atoms

on the constant edge

between explosion and implosion.

You and me. We’re divided into atoms.

You and me.

One of the glass slipped from my grip and shattered against the floor. Though the sound drowned in the loud music and those far too familiar lyrics.

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a/n: thank you guys for the support x I apologize for being terrible at writing lyrics hah!

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