The flight from Los Angeles to Dublin was dreadful, I'd tell you that. Cramped in a confined space of a business seat in a plane for hours was not really my way of spending the night. Especially when the kid behind me was high on sugar and caffeine, like, oh my God! Could a plane ride be any worse?
The relief I felt when I immediately spotted my brother in the crowd of people at the airport was like a heavy weight was lifted off of my shoulders. "I could just hug you right now, Greg." I said as I rolled my luggage towards my brother who was assigned to pick me up at the ungodly hour of 4 in the morning.
"Please don't. Last time I checked, I'm not gay and we're brothers." He said with a soft chuckle.
Scoffing, I said "Who said hugs are limited to couples only? Hugs for all!" while waving my arms carelessly. Honestly, getting no sleep for a whole uncomfortable ride did something to me.
But the ride from Dublin to Mullingar? It was lovely. Since the sun was not up yet, and this town has less buildings than there are in the city, I could see stars. Lots and lots of them dominating the dark night sky. If I had brought Harold with me here, he'd be on and on about the beauty of the contrast between the bright stars and pitch black night and whatnot, surely he would. Well, not to say I didn't enjoy it, but the poet's mind was a little different. Much more... poetic, well.
I didn't realize when I had fallen asleep in the car but the next time I opened my eyes, Greg was nudging my shoulder saying "We're home!"
We're home!
The first thing I did when I set foot home? I hugged my parents (see? Hugs for all!). Second thing? I threw myself onto my bed and caught up with the sleep I lost in that hell of a plane ride.
When I woke up feeling fully-rested, I watched football with Greg and our dad until it was time for dinner. Mum (well, stepmum) cooked my favourite meal and we had a good chat at the dining table about everything I'd missed while touring. It was as if we were back to the good old days.
Then, dad started asking about my plans during the hiatus. "So Niall, big break, huh? What'd you plan on doing?"
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and thought about it for a second. To be honest, I hadn't thought it through, the hiatus I mean, since I had actually forgotten how it felt to even have a break. "Not quite sure yet. Golf, maybe?"
Dad, mum and Greg chuckled at my 'not-so-obvious' answer because golf was practically the only thing I did on my breaks. Well what could I say? I had a different taste in hobby.
"Alright, alright. I planned on hanging out with the lads, and maybe travelling a little? But surely I'm still writing and making music between all that." I finally confessed.
Then Greg, who was already married and had an adorable kid named Theo, asked "What about relationships? Think you're looking for any? I mean, it's a long break."
I put my fork and knife aside when the question lingered in my head. "I don't know. I don't think I'm looking for any, after what happened with the last one, you know?" I said as my thoughts ran wild to that one girl who managed to steal my heart very long ago. And despite what had happened, she still had a grip on it.
"You'll find someone." Dad said and I just nodded at his words, not believing them.
-
The next few days were rather uneventful. I'd go out with my mates to do some catch up, play football with dad, watch some crappy tv shows, babysit my nephew, write bits and pieces of songs and well, golf.
It was a week into my break, if I was not mistaken, that I was invited to a party in a pub downtown to celebrate a friend's graduation from university. I supposed that after banging your head on the table hoping to finish your assignment before sunrise, you deserved to get bloody hammered.
I hesitated at first on joining but after persuasions from my friends and family, I decided to go. Well, what was there to lose? What could possibly go wrong at this point, right?
So there I was at 11 p.m. in the pub partying with my friends like there was no tomorrow. We were talking, drinking, dancing and drinking again. It just felt right. The headache was nothing as long as the heartache subsided. The burn in my throat had never felt better compared to swallowing bitter tears and acting tough. This party was worth it rather than crying myself to sleep. And forgetting seemed to be the best choice instead of remembering and reliving old scars. Right?
Wrong. It all went wrong.
I was in the kitchen trying to get some beer and someone walked in. I glanced as a matter of reflex and saw the last person I'd want to see in my whole life. There he was with a drunken chick in his hold, laughing about something which I was sure not even funny.
"Oi! Haven't seen you in a while, mate. How's it goin'?" He asked and I swore that it took a lot in me not to punch him.
"Fuck off, Jerry." I spat bitterly before walking out of the kitchen and leaving the party without a word to Deo, the host.
Fuming, I got into my car and sprinted off to a place which I hadn't visited in a while and had never even planned to visit in my break, or ever.
I went to the graveyard. There, I skimmed through a few tombstones before I found it, right under a creepy tree that you'd usually see in the horror movies during Halloween. It read Isiah Harper, in loving memory.
Isiah was my girlfriend from before the xFactor, before the fame and everything. I loved her, I loved her so, so much that people would gag when they saw us 'fooling around' and 'making puppy eyes' at each other. Well, what could I say? We were madly in love. And we were getting serious too, to the point that we made promise rings as a symbol of our undying love for each other and a promise that we would always, always stay together.
Then it all changed. Don't get me wrong, whatever happened since the xFactor had been truly incredible and I loved every single part of it. Except for the part where we had to be away from our family and friends and hometown in general, and I had to be away from my Isiah. I thought we were strong enough but I was being a fool, I was blinded.
During my time away, the space between us kept getting deeper and deeper (no pun intended) till the point where what was left was a blackhole. We stopped talking, and before I could even blink my eye, I had lost her. I came back on Christmas only to see her in someone else's arms, in Jerry's arms to be exact, and that was why I flipped when I saw him at the party. Because it brought back bad memories, you know?
I thought of winning her back, hell, I had tried to win her back but everything she did made me feel like the love that we had, that she had for me, was gone. And before I even put up my white flag, she got into a car accident and she couldn't be saved. I lost her for real that time.
"I'm sorry that I lost you, Isiah. I really, really do." I whispered as hot tears streamed down my face.
The heartache that I tried to avoid, the tears that I tried to swallow, and the memories that I tried to forget all came back crashing on me that I fell to my knees, feeling weak and defeated.
"It's pretty unfair, you know?" I said. "It's unfair how people moved on from losing you and I, out of all people, can't. It's unfair how this town can function normally as if it hadn't lost a beautiful soul. It's just so unfair."
I sobbed and sobbed until the last bit of energy was drained out of me and I practically crawled towards my car and drove home with tear streaks on my cheeks and numbness in my heart. No one questioned my whereabout as I walked past my family members looking like a dead person walking and I was thankful for that. In my room, I flipped through my old albums, reminiscing old memories of Isiah, of us, until I somehow managed to fall asleep.
It's just so unfair.
-Nik.
