This Town

Chapter Forty

It was August and I was exhausted. The well oiled machine that was One Direction just kept on truckin'. I had stopped caring about most things. I plastered a smile on my face and did my little dance. Day in. Day out. Wake up. Repeat. I was mostly just someone's drone at that point.

There was about a week in which nearly every day, multiple times a day, I got a call from my mother. The first day, I did answer, despite being in a rush.

"Hey, mum!" I said, as I put her on speaker so I could finish tossing clothes on.

"Hey, sweetie. Are you busy?" Her voice sounded upset but I didn't quite process that at the time.

"Yeah, kinda," I said.

"Oh, well, baby, I need to talk to you about something..." she trailed off a little.

"Yeah, what would that be?" I picked up the phone and grabbed my room keys and guitar and headed out the door.

"Umm, Niall, honey--"

"Hey guys, wait up!" I shouted down the hall as I saw Harry and Zayn waiting for the elevator.

"Niall, honey, are you listening?"

"Yeah, mum. What is it?" But I wasn't listening.

"Niall, it's about Sio---"

"Sorry, mum, I am quite busy. Can it wait? Hope so. Gotta go, bye!" I nearly shouted into the phone as I ended the call and got on the elevator.

Throughout the course of the day, I was doing interviews and when I got back to my phone, saw I had several missed calls from my mother, a few from my father, a few from Greg, and even a few from Thomas.

"What the hell?" I asked myself as I was about to call my mother I got interrupted and had to put my phone back down.

That week was super crazy from the moment we woke up to the moment we all crashed. We were in the States for our tour and had several sold out shows at the Staples Center in LA. I continued to get calls from my family but was unable to answer them and too tired to respond. I did manage to text them saying I was alive but just super busy.

By that Friday, my mother had clearly had enough. She called me nonstop. Of course, I didn't see most of these until late in the day. She sent one lone text at the end of the day, it read:

"I don't care how tired you are when you get this. You better call me. It's about Siobhan."

I saw that message and about tossed my phone to the side when I got another one, from Thomas:

"Dude, know you're busy but please call one of us back. It's important."

I tossed my phone to the side and proceeded to get ready for a shower when something in my gut told me I needed to call my mother.

I draped a towel around my waist and grabbed my phone, sitting down on the bed. As the phone rang, I suddenly felt sick. She answered on the second ring,

"Niall, thank god!"

"Hey. mum, sorry I haven't been able to--"

"Shut up and listen to me, Niall." Damn, she'd never just interrupted me like this before but then I heard her sniffle.

"Mum, are you okay?"

"No, Niall. We've been calling you all week for a reason! It's about Siobhan."

With my mother crying like that I started to panic, "What about her?" I whispered.

"It's her father, Niall..." There was a long pause where I heard a lot of sniffling and nose blowing before she continued, "Niall....Dylan passed away last night."

I sat there, silently. I felt like someone had just punched me in chest.

"Niall?"

"I'm here. What happened? Where's Siobhan? Is she okay?" I knew the answer to the last question, 'Of course not dummy!'

"He's been sick for quite some time, Niall. She had asked us to not tell you because she wanted you to focus on what you were doing."

"How long has he been sick?"

"Since before you left for X-Factor."

"What?! Why didn't she tell me?"

"Honey, you know she's a private person. We honestly didn't know until several months later and only because he collapsed while talking with your father."

"What does he have? Did have?" I couldn't believe I just said that. I couldn't believe I was referring to a man who was like my second father in the past tense. I couldn't believe I didn't know.

"Cancer. It was always considered terminal. It just ultimately moved a little slower than anyone initially thought."

I couldn't breathe. The more she talked, the more I felt like I was having someone beat the life out of me. Suddenly, I became violently sick, barely making it to the bathroom before I puked.

I held my phone in my hand as I threw up into the toilet, so I know my mother heard me, plus, she kept asking if I was okay. What a stupid question! Of course, I wasn't!

"Yeah, mum, I think I'm done," I said, leaning against the wall of the bathroom with my eyes closed.

"It got worse this week, which is why we've been calling you. Honey, I know you and Siobhan aren't together anymore and haven't spoken, but she needs you. She may be fighting us on that but she does. You needed to know, regardless, because I know he was family to you."

"Another father..." I whispered, trying not to cry.

"You're her best friend. Come home, Niall."

"I am." I hung up the phone, in shock.

It was our last show in LA, so I plastered the fakest smile on my face and got through it. I told the boys when we were done, who all seemed shocked that I would've stayed but the first flight back wouldn't have been until after the show anyway.

I packed my bags and got to the airport. As I sat there waiting to board, a storm descended onto LA and my flight got delayed...and delayed....and delayed. I tried calling Siobhan but she wouldn't answer the phone. I was kind of shocked she still had the same number. So, if nothing else, she knew I was calling her. She knew I knew.

When my flight got delayed for the fifth time, I called my mother and told her what was going on. She said she'd relay the message to her for me. I hung up and buried my head in my hands.