Letters to Niall Horan

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Niall’s P.O.V.

We had finally started up rehearsals again. So much for a break. My alarm had scared the shit out of me at six AM. I jumped in my bed, nearly falling off. When I realized it was the alarm I groaned and slammed the snooze. I laid there, arm thrown over my face, not wanting to get up. I reluctantly got up when I heard my phone go off. I stood up and drug my feet to my dresser.

“Hello?” I slurred.

“Niall! Get your last arse outta bed!”

Liam. Of course.

“I am up.” I was glaring at my window, hoping Liam could feel it.

“Mate, quit the glaring. Get dressed, grab some breakfeast, and be here at seven. No later!”

The line went blank and I put my phone down. I scratched the back of my head and pulled open my dresser drawers. I pulled out blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a red hoodie. I changed fast and walked downstairs, grabbing a pop tart. I shoved that down my throat and walked over to the front door. I slipped on a pair of black Vans and a black beanie.

I walked down the walkway to my car, almost falling flat on my face. I slipped into my car and headed down the highway and to the studio.

                                                            ***

When I walked into the studio I saw four impatient boys looking my way. I stopped in the doorway, raising an eyebrow.

“Ehem,” Liam said.

“Yes?”

“Your four minutes late,” Louis said, sighing.

“So? It’s only four minutes.”

“I give up!” Liam said, throwing his arms up.

“Ladies, if you don’t mind, I’d like to start recording,” Zayn said, looking firmly at us.

Liam nodded and I walked fully into the room. I was up first. Great.

“Okay Niall, your lines are right there!” Dave our producer said, pointing at the sheet of paper in front of me.

I looked down.

You’ll never love yourself half as much as I love you. You’ll never treat yourself right darling but I want you to. If I let you know I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you.

I froze. T. This reminded me so much of her. Maybe not the love part, but I do feel a connection to her somehow. I would love to hold her in my arms and softly sing this in her ear. I want to be the one who shows her that there is good in this world. That people care for her, even in her darkest times. I want to show her that-

“NIALL!”

“What?! What-who?!”

“Niall, it’s Dave. We need to start recording!”

“Oh, right.” I slipped on my headphones and the world slipped away.

                                                ***

I threw myself on my bed. Work was tiring today. All I could do was think of T the entire time. This girl is doing strange things to me and I don’t even know her personally. I stood from my bed and walked over to the desk on the side. I shuffled through my mail and I saw it. A letter from T.

Dear Niall (I think that’s your name),

Since you sounded so happy to help, I guess I have no choice. A few days ago I was punched in the face by none other than Darcy. That bitch thinks she owns me. I couldn’t fight back, knowing if I did it would only lead to worse things. So I took my beating. I probably deserved it. Here’s the thing, though. All my life people told me no one deserves to be hit, no matter what they did. I think that’s a lie. I clearly deserved what was coming to me. I hate being weak and vanurable, but what choice do I have?

                                                                        T.

A silent tear fell down my cheek. Those people where right. No one deserves to be hit, especially not her. I wiped away my tear and put my hands on my eyes. Oh T, what has society done to you?

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