So, What? // 1D AU ✓

Chapter 19

~So, so what?,

I'm still a rock star,

I got my rock moves~

Niall Horan only ever used his internal alarm clock, which wasn't the best quality in an adult with a job. But, in the most recent week, he had gotten conditioned so that he woke with a start when it hit five in the evening. His usual sleeping schedule went from noon to 5 p.m, since he worked nights at a bar.

Tonight, when his body recognized that it was five, he shot up and made direct eye contact with his cat, who was licking herself very loudly. "God, you sound like me eating ramen," He told Taco. "Do you know where my phone is?" The cat didn't reply, because she's a cat.

Niall looked to his right, where his bedside table was. Sure enough, his phone was on the charger. There was the usual messages from his friends, his coworkers, pictures of his nephew from his brother. But nothing from the one person he wanted to message him. She never messaged anymore, though.

His voice brightened as he called her, knowing that he'd have to leave a voicemail. "Hey, want to come to the club tonight? Free drinks!" He coughed and put his hand flat on top of his head, grimacing at how awful his hair felt. "I just want to see you. Make sure that you're good. We don't have to talk. Free drinks, that's all." He sighed. "Bye."

If there was any moment that a trashy teen pop playlist could have played in his life, it would have been now. Niall picked a pencil out of a cup on the floor and stuck it in his mouth, forcing himself to smile. On the days when he felt the worst, he did this to make him smile. To get the serotonin flowing.

While he was in the shower, Taco sat on the toilet. Niall serenaded her through the pencil, singing from his trashy teen pop playlist. He'd play anything to get the bass out of his head from a night at the club. Even if all of these songs were on the same four chords.

"Yes, I know that you're hungry," He chided when Taco started whining as he entered the kitchen. "You act like I have never fed you."

Niall looked out at his small apartment while pouring cat food. It was impeccably clean, which was very unlike his personality type. But in the last month, his free time had opened up, so he cleaned to avoid the silence in his room.

He drank some orange juice and debating putting the pencil back in his mouth. Then deciding not to, there was another hour spent in the bathroom fixing his hair and listening to the playlist. "Taco, behave yourself tonight. I don't want to come home and the house is trashed."

Taco glared at him as he grabbed his jacket and wallet. He flipped her off and shut the door. Then the smile had to be real. He was peppy enthusiastic Niall, and that's how everyone knew him. So that's who he had to be. He waved to his neighbors he saw, and to the regulars who always stood out on the streets.

A chorus of "Hey, Niall" followed him, and it did give him a real pep in his step.

By the time he got to work, he was in his element. Exchange his jacket for an apron and a nametag, and then he was right on the bar, serving drinks. People laughed at his jokes and complimented his perfect hair. It was dyed, and he knew that he really wasn't that funny.

Well into his shift, he was shocked but not surprised when a crying boy came up to him. "Hey there, what can I get you?"

The guy was unsure about what he wanted, and was clearly a mess. Niall offered some advice, which he knew would be shitty, and when it did leave his mouth a little while later, he knew that it was probably the worst advice anyone had ever heard. I mean, "...just fight him"? What kind of advice is that?

The curly lad left Niall with a big tip and a feeling of warmth in his heart, inspiring himself. If he could start to move on after being treated so bad, maybe Niall could try and get over the break-up with his ex. He swallowed down the memory of texting her asking her if she got the voicemail that he sent her when he was on the bus.

Niall threw his phone on the back counter, trying to not care about the fact that it could get lost or stolen. He started throwing himself into his work, switching to the busier section to get in on the good vibes and to start flirting with whomever caught his eye. He didn't really have anything to lose. What was someone going to do? Complain? Every single one of the bartenders looked exactly like Niall, and everyone was too drunk to care. Too bad for him. He was also really bad at flirting, so there was no chance of getting a number, much less someone complaining and telling the manager. He just had to pray there was no one named Karen out there tonight.

It was all to forget his own romantic woes. And he knew that she wasn't going to show up to the bar that night. He always extended the offer, and she never came.

The night went on, quickly as it always did when it was busy. But Niall was surprised to see Harry return to the bar about an hour after he had left, wearing a completely different outfit and wearing makeup, talking about actually taking his advice.

As the two of them sat there deeply, Niall began to realize that if he can't solve his own problems with his significant other tonight, then maybe he can help someone else break up with there's.

So, he takes Harry out to the alley. If he's going to leave his job early and probably get fired, this night better go out with a fucking bang.

---

"Get the fuck away from me, Niall! I can't breathe!"

"I'm sorry!"

"You're so goddamn fucking clingy!"

"I know."

"We have to take a break."

"What? Like Ross and Rachel?"

"Yes, you idiot. I need time away from you."

"What does this mean? Breaking up? We've been together for a year."

"Just don't call me. Or text me. For a while."