Tonight, Zayn and Liam are on a double date with their girlfriend’s, a perfect opportunity to try and break Zayn’s password; which is what Niall is in the middle of at the moment.
It’s been an hour, and Niall’s neck hurt, his eyes are dry and a headache throbbing in his temple. He glances at the clock, wondering how long they’ll be gone; how long he has left.
“Okay, come on, Niall,” He mutters and flips to the next page in Zayn's planner and turns it over on the floor at his side. Liam's theory turned out to be both a boon and a curse. At first Niall thought he would just check Zayn's birthday and see if he had anything written there.
That is before he realized that he had no idea when Zayn's birthday is. So instead he started to flip through page by page, figuring the special days would be obvious, that he had written Dad's birthday on a certain date, or Parents' anniversary somewhere in there.
He was wrong. Nothing is obvious in Zayn's planner, other than the fact that he is a doodler. A doodler and a jotter who brainstormed poems and titles in every available space on every available page.
Yes, there are poem titles on some dates, but there is no way of knowing if the dates holds any significance. So he spent the last hour typing in pretty much every word he found in any given date square.
Pretty soon, his knuckles are going to seize up. Early onset arthritis. That is where this mission is going to get him.
Niall takes a deep breath. He just have to keep at it for a few more minutes. Then he will call it a night and maybe do some homework for once.
He is on April. April fifth has a single word in its square. He takes a deep breath and starts to type.
Rubber band. R-U-B-B-E-R-B-A-N-D. Enter.
Invalid password! the screen replies.
Okay . . . next. Slammed. S-L-A-M-M-E-D. Enter.
Invalid password!
Niall groans. he scans the calendar, looking for something even remotely intriguing, and his eyes fell on the last day of April. April 30. In big, red letters is the word home. Then, underneath that, in much smaller letters, the title of one of his more recent poems: “The Other.” That one has been published in last month's Quill.
He takes a deep breath. His fingers are trembling. Okay. “The Other.” Two words.
T-H-E [space] O-T-H-E-R. Enter.
Invalid password!
Somewhere nearby a door slams. Niall’s heart is in his mouth. He closes the computer and is about to stash it away, but instead he freezes. He freezes and listens. Footsteps. Footsteps coming closer...
Oh, God, no. He scrambles to put everything back. He almost drops the computer. He is never going to get it all in there in time....
And then the footsteps passes by the door. They are going downstairs. Niall sits down hard on his butt and breathes. Everything is shaking. He should just bag this.
.
Just bag it and start over tomorrow. But when is he ever going to get an opportunity like this again?
Slowly, he opens the computer again. He will just try this last one and that will be it.
Okay. The other. One word.
T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R. Enter.
There is a beep. His pulse races. The drive whirs to life, the screen goes black, then came up with a blue sky background and the two sweetest words he has ever seen on a computer screen.
YOU ARE READING
Privilege
FanfictionNiall 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...
