Niall is hovering in the shadows at the end of the hallway when Louis and Harry walk out together, debating whether Fred Flintstone would leave his wife for Kate Hudson (Louis is con, Harry is pro - what an intellectual debate, Niall thinks sarcastically).
His heart is beating against his ribcage and he is shaking like he is about to meet execution as he waits for them leave. When the two finally go around the corner, he springs forward and quickly slips in their room, closing the door behind him.
His eyes darts around the room (the quite messy room he might add). He feels a little dizzy, not knowing where to begin. He glances at Louis’ end of the room and forces himself to walk over there. He looks at the closet and thinks, ‘The skeletons usually are in the closet, right?’, then decides to begin there.
Niall walks over and places his hands on the two knobs that work the sliding door. He pauses for a second, attempting to listen for noise over his hard breathing and drumming heart. However, all that can be heard is someone taking a shower in a nearby room.
Holding his breath, he slides the closet doors open and peers in. Louis has clothes; a-fucking-lot of clothes. He tries not to get distracted by the thousands upon thousands of dollars worth of designer clothes. He just needs to get over this.
Shoe boxes line the floor and fuck, what does Louis do with all of these shoes? Niall begins to open box after box, unsure of what he is searching for. He finds nothing, nothing but shoe after shoe after shoe as he works his way through the shelves of clothes. He can already feel himself sweating; he is never going to finish this.
He drags Louis’ desk chair over, moving a stack of sweaters aside when his eyes suddenly fall on something.
“What…” He mumbles to himself. He tenderly takes down the stacks of sweaters then reverently lays them on Louis’ bed.
Niall steps back up on the chair to have a better look. Shoved into the farthest, darkest corner of Louis’ closet, is a brown box with a small padlock and magazine clippings pasted all over it. Like something out of a serial killer's house.
Don’t touch
Touch and die
Seriously, don’t fucking touch it
Although the warnings, Niall feels himself itching with curiosity. He reaches for the wooden box and pulls it towards him. Among the words and hastily assembled letters were clippings of pictures of farm animals. Pigs and cows, mostly.
What the hell was this thing?
He reaches for the lock, expecting it to be fastened, but it falls right open. Niall’s heart skips a beat. Glancing around in paranoia, he removes the lock and slowly opens the box.
The first thing that catches his eye is a picture of some poor woman's humongous, cellulite-ridden ass in a
flowered bathing suit. The second was the smell of icing.
Oh. My. God.
The box is full of snacks: Hostess cupcakes, Twinkies, Oreos, Ding Dongs, Nutter Butters, brownies, coffee cakes, SnoBalls, Milanos. It is sick. ‘If Louis is so worried about eating it, why would he go through all the trouble of creating a box to keep it in -- a box designed to keep him away? Was it some kind of torture?’ Niall wonders.
Before Niall can think further, he notices a small spiral-bound notebook propped flat against the side of the box. He moves some Devil Dogs aside to pull it out. Inside is an entry marked September 9.
Beneath it is a list of every single thing Louis ate that day and the calorie content of that item. At the bottom was written “Twenty Oreos,” and next to it, in a psychotic scrawl, the words “No, No, No!”
YOU ARE READING
Privilege
FanficNiall wins a scholarship to one of the most prestigious boarding schools of the country. He is ready to build up his future and live his dreams, but it doesn’t take long for him to get involved with a troublesome group of untouchable and elite boys...
