Fix You- A One Direction Fan Fiction

"I'm a monster,"

Niall's POV

"Niall you suck. Get out of One Direction now fag"

I can't breath.

"You don't deserve to be on the same stage as One Direction"

Another tear.

"Get yo teeth fixed ugly"

I tried desparately to blink away the tears now. Men don't cry.

It's no use. I fell on my bed and cried into my pillow.

I don't know why I do this. Look at the hate. I know there are a lot of people out there that love me. Worship me, even, but those few who constantly bombard me with hate... they stand out.

They give me some sort of comfort. At least I know I'm not the only one seeing it.

I walked to the bathroom mirror.

Eyes. Not so bad. The only thing I like about myself, actually.

Teeth. Ugh, I'm a monster.

Skin. I'm too pale.

I hate myself.

I hate my body.

I hate my voice.

I hate that I pay attention to all the hate.

So I'm just standing her, in my washroom, crying to my horrid reflection.

Perfect life of a pop star, huh?

The boys help as much as they can, but none of them really understand, except for maybe Harry. Even that doesn't help. Not really.

I'm considering quitting, but I know that's not going to do anything except draw more unwanted attention to myself.

People just don't know.

They don't know that I cry myself to sleep on many occasions.

They don't know how self conscious I am.

They don't know how much I worry. How much I try and try to be good enough.

I've never resulted to cutting, but I'm sure I can't take much more.

I put on a happy face most of the time.

But inside... I just... don't know.