Twisted

Chapter 2 : Why do we ..?

~ Niall's P.O.V ~

'No way !'

'Uncle Simon, what makes you think we will?'

'Yeah, and you're going to playschool.'

'Go die in a ditch.'

Out of all the possible answers I could've given Uncle Simon, all that came out was 'WHAT?!' The boys had started to fight for their rights already.

'No! I've got to meet Perrie. And Mom. And Doniya. And Safaa. And... ' started Zayn.

'I promised Gemma I'd be there to meet her boyfriend!' complained Harry.

'School's for babies! And this year's the only time our break clashes with Eleanor's hols, so hasta la vista, Uncle Si, but school's not for me!' sang Louis, wagging a finger at Uncle Simon.

'I persuaded Sophia to meet my family after so long ! Do you know how much time and money it took? I bought her two diamond rings before she accepted ! I can't cancel it now !' protested Liam.

'Yeah ! And I... um.. I....' I didn't have anything to say. The boys looked at me expectantly. Their eyes held a variety of emotions - anger, sadness, desperation. I hadn't seen that in them for a long time since we got out of X-Factor. 'Yeah, my Nando's Black Card's gonna expire, so I've got to eat as much as I can!' I said out of desperation. Talk about peer pressure. The boys gave me poker faces. 'What?' I whispered, ' Atleast I said something!' Something that wasn't even true. But I still said something, right? The boys better not bust me later.

    Uncle Simon sighed. 'Zayn, you can meet Perrie and your family some other time. Gemma's boyfriend isn't gonna run away, Harry. Louis and Liam, I'm sorry, but I think your girlfriends understand the pressure of being in a boy band. And Niall, we all know your card isn't going to expire any time soon.' said Uncle Simon.

The boys started shouting again. Like seriously, wtf ?? You just can't  tell five boys who happen to be earning more than 5 million an year, to be going to school and learning stupid Math and Geography. You just can't.

'Please, Uncle Simon, try to understand! ' tried Zayn.

'We're not going, Uncle Si,' said Harry authoritatively. Uncle Simon raised an eyebrow. 'Says who?' he smirked and whistled sharply. Some ten to fifteen men - bulky  men, I might add - walked in. One of them went towards Harry and tossed the heavy 20-year-old over his back. Harry started thrashing about as the men did the same to the others. A black haired fellow came near me. 'Don't touch me ,' I threatened. I backed away from him as he came closer. 'You....you don't k-know what I-I ... what I can do!' I tried.

The absolutely thick-headed fool decided to ignore my tremendous wrath and came still closer. I ran to the kitchen. Desperate for a weapon, I took out a buttering knife. 'Be afraid of this deadly knife ! BE AFRAID !!' I shouted. The guy suddenly ran towards me, toppled the knife from my hand, picked me up and threw me over his back. 'I DON'T WANT THE FRAGRANCE OF YOUR ARSE TO BE KILLING ME, YOU PIG!!' I shouted.

I DO NOT, I repeat, I DO NOT understand this logic. When you're angry, you don't find even ONE curse word coming to your mouth. You end up using words like "You pig", or "You dog" and your words don't even come out properly so you're not sure whether the person has got the message that you're angry with them.

I tried banging my fists against the man's thick back. What on Earth does this fellow eat? The guy didn't even seem  least effected. I was the one who was most non-violent, because Liam was trying to box his way out of the man's grip and Louis was attempting to holler in the guy's ear. I must add here, that he almost succeeded. This guy better be thankful that I was only hitting him with hardly-painful-punches. He could give me some cash. Or even better, pay for my food. Come to think of it, that was gonna be hard. The fellow might even become bankrupt.

My hands were throbbing with pain and I hadn't had breakfast, so I got tired real easy. The man who was holding me walked towards our tour bus and threw me violently inside. 'That double-crossing fuckface....' started Louis, pushing his flick on one side. I dragged myself towards the couch. I'm sure I had a sprain or something. But I was tired. The boys were showering their choicest abuses on the men, but I felt my eyes close.

'Die in a ditch, you flibbertigibbet!' shouted Zayn.

I smiled slightly,  but gave in to my brain shouting at me to sleep. I let my eyes close and engrossed myself into a peaceful - as peaceful as a lad can get with his friends cussing loudly - and sound sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~~~