The Bucket List (A Niall Horan Fanfic)

Chapter 32: Hurting, Helping, Not As Healthy

"I'll see you soon," I said, trying to smile before I squeezed her body against mine. We both knew that it might've been another year until we saw each other, but we acted like we would be seeing each other tomorrow.

"We'll meet halfway," Christina said as a genuine smile crossed my face.

"London it is," I said, reading her mind. I watched as she moved past me and up to Harry who towered over her as he wrapped his bare arms around her little body. His lips pushed into hers hers before a heavy pain in my gut caused me to turn around. "Love you!" I called back to her waving as I began walking down the long airport hallway next to Zayn and Niall. "He's not right for her," I whispered. Both boys stated silent as I realized that a year ago, I was walking through this very airport, saying goodbye to Christina, and leaving for a whole new adventure. I was never expecting to be leaving again, but this time on a world tour.

 

We sat in our waiting area in the airport, scrolling through our phones. I looked up to see an important looking person dressed in a perfectly ironed dress shirt and pants with a name tag saying 'Tom.' "Your plane has been delayed," he said in a rush. "We're going to put everyone on a public plane, except for the boys. We're calling in a private plane for you because of security issues. I watched as Niall gave 'Tom' an annoyed glance before his gaze slid into mine as if to say that he wished he could fly on the public plane. I bit the corner of my lip and looked from the ground to him as if to say that I wished that he could too. I watched as the boys followed 'Tom' to a separate waiting room. I waved good bye before following the rest of the band, stage crew and stylists in the opposite direction.   

"Coach for the win!" I said pumping my fists in the air, sarcastically as Andy grinned in amusement.

"Oh, you won't be flying coach you will be flying first class," the airport lady who was leading all of us to our flight. "Except," she said, as she flipped through papers on her clipboard, "One of you will have to fly coach."

"Shotty not!" Andy screamed.

"I'll take it. I'm used to it," I offered as the lady turned around and thankfully smiled.

 

I looked up at the flight attendants as they gestured through the safety procedures with a bright smile as if there was nothing else these people would rather be doing. I gave an awkward smile at the middle aged man sitting two centimeters away from me. He never returned the smile, which made it even more awkward.

It's just an hour or so.

"Hello," the middle aged man said answering his phone as he hunched over in his chair so that he wouldn't get caught by the flight attendant. I snuck a quick glance at him as we began to start moving down the runway. He had a thin beard that was graying and half a head of hair which was doing the same. The placement of his wrinkles were a testament of the stress in his life, rather than the laughter. His dark complexion and eyes led me to believe that he was Pilipino, but I wasn't sure. Devastation had taken over his dark eyes and sagging mouth. "Okay, okay. We'll sort things out later. I have to go," he whispered into the phone as he shoved it back into his pocket. He heavily exhaled as he rubbed his hands across his face. I really wanted to say something, but I knew that the socially expectable thing to do was to put my earphones in my ears and block everything else out. I was never socially expectable, and I don't think that I ever will be.

"Excuse me," I shyly murmured as the man surprisingly looked up at me, "Is everything alright?"

"No," he whined as if he was a little boy who had broken his mother's favorite vase. "My son just lost his job and now we don't know what we're going to do. He is our main supporter."