Impossibly bright lights shone down on the six of us; my band mates, me and the interviewer. I don’t know what her name is. My mind had been racing back against time, remembering instantly when I was in trouble. The stage lights were what triggered the memory. It may seem like the most trouble I’ve ever been in, but that’s wrong. The worst type of trouble happens in the deepest shade of black; darkness. The light reminded me of when I was in trouble. The helicopter was shining down its spotlight on me, and only me. Not the guy I was currently fighting; just me. They just wanted me.

“Niall.” The interview repeated. How many times, I don’t know nor do I care. My head snapped towards him and my eyesight focused on his confused face. Now I want to know how many times he said my name. The heat from the lights above us was just about to get to me, making me uncomfortable in the spotlight next to my band mates. My long sleeve shirt was starting to feel sticky against my skin in the intense heat. Zayn was already sweating; I could see the small beads of perspiration that were collecting on his forehead the whole interview.

“Hmm?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that I had just ignored him and made a slight fool of myself on the live interview that was broadcasting on the television as I think.

“I asked what’s it is like coming back to Ireland to preform since it’s your home territory.” The way he said territory excited me. He looked intently at me, waiting for my answer. Territory is something that powerful people have. For example, Napoleon had conquered one of the largest lands of territory in history. Also, Lincoln bought the while western half of America, known as the Louisiana Purchase. Those were two damn powerful people, does that mean I’m powerful like them. I quite like the idea of that.

I turned my head so that I was looking into the bright lights that were shielding a camera behind them. Where is it? There are several cameras, I’m sure of it. All I need to do is just find one. Before I could do that I realized that I’ve waited too long to answer. My head turned back towards the interviewer and I swallowed, leaning back into the couch farther, “It is going to be interesting.” I began, “I’m excited to see all of my old friends and perform for them.”

“I’m sure they are excited to see you as well. You’re Ireland’s brightest now, Niall.” He beamed.

“Thank you.” I nodded, smiling at him. Then I turned and looked at the rest of the boys. My eyes drifted over to Liam. He’s always happy, happy for everyone. Louis seems happy that I had a discussion with the interviewer all to myself because we both know what it’s like to receive the smallest talk. Zayn was leaning against the couch. He was always quiet, always thinking. Then I looked at Harry. His face was trained hard like he’s angry. But I know that he isn’t. It’s all a front. Harry is supposed to be the bad one, the evil one.

A cough erupted from Louis, “We are excited to meet some of Niall’s old friends as well and visit his family.”

The interview nodded, and then smiled, “Alright, well, thanks boys. I know your time is very valuable and this interview is greatly appreciated. I hope the best for you on your current tour and in the future. Hopefully I’ll see you again in a year or so.”

“No problem.” Liam spoke huskily, “We love coming on your show.”

“This has been One Direction and our returning Irish boy, Niall Horan with Brandy on your national news. Thank you for watching. Tune in next weekend for an exclusive interview with the man who downed a total of fifty sandwiches in just over an hour. We will have an exclusive interview for you.”

***

“Niall, what was that rubbish?” Liam said when we got off stage and away from all of the workers somewhat. Brandy, the interviewer, fled to her room because of a need to use the bathroom intensely.

“What are you talking about?” I groaned, “What do you want me to say? I just got a little bored so I daydreamed a bit, sue me you fuckers.”

“Can you please control yourself right now, especially your mouth?” Harry snapped, pleading with me to be quiet and not make a scene. It always happens, I’ll get angry and someone will see; someone not in the band. Then we will have to pay them so they don’t reveal my true self. Or we will tell them that Harry provoked me because Harry’s the bad one, not me.

“Shut up.” I snarled, stepping closer to him.

Harry immediately stepped backwards, maybe even leaped backwards to avoid a confrontation from me, “Mate, I’m just trying to make things simple… you know you aren’t supposed to come off as aggressive.”

“Why? So you can do it for me? I’m fucking sick of acting like I’m you and you acting like you’re me. It makes so fucking sense. Why can’t I just be myself?” I looked around for something to kick, but when nothing was in sight, I curled my fingers into fists, “Why do you get to be the bad one?”

“Just cool down.” Louis pleaded, “Niall, just cool off. None of us are going to say why Harry is supposed to be the aggressive one. You want us too, that’s just plain obvious, so you can throw a fit, and blow a shit of all of us in front of a crew person.”

“No one talk to me.” I growled turning and stalking off towards the dressing rooms. They were right of course; Louis was always so damn right and it pisses me off. I shouldn’t make a scene and in a way I’m glad they forced me not too but another part of me doesn’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want to be some nice guy that smiles all day long when it’s quite apparent that I have a lack of feelings. I’ve accepted it. So why can’t everyone else?

Not knowing why you don’t feel emotions is the worst thing in the world but there’s nothing I can do about it now so they should all just fuck off and let me be who I want to be. I threw open my dressing room door and slammed it the moment I snaked myself inside. The room was bare; just a small couch and a place for me to sit when the makeup crew comes in with a mirror. I found myself sitting down on the couch, pulling out my phone.

A sent a quick text to my mother. I’m supposed to be this guy who is rude and pushy—well, I am that guy, but I always send a text to my mother when I’m upset. She’s always there to calm me down. I don’t know, maybe I have a problem with men. But that also is fucked up because I’m in a boy band where I spent most of my time with four other guys who annoy the shit out of me.

I threw my phone to the side and plopped my back against the couch cushions when someone knocked on my dressing room door; “Come in.” I said in a rather raspy tone. I started to clear my throat just as the door opened. There was a small girl standing there; her name is Emily. She’s the girl that comes to pack up all of the boys and I’s clothes, then take them out to the bus whenever we finish somewhere.

She hates me. I mean, really hates me. “Niall.” She began with a small, but fake smile. She’s also afraid of me, “I need to get your clothes.” She squeaked.

“Do you? Carry on.” I said, waving my hand dismissively. She nodded quickly and jumped in the room, sure to leave the door open and bent over my day bag, pulling out the dirty clothes and stuffing them into another bag. She’s nothing that I would normally like; her body a little too skinny, her hip bones showing when she wears sweatpants. I waited until she was almost done, then spoke, “So, Emily, how have you been lately?” I said.

“You would know, Niall.” She said nervously, “I’ve been with you and the boys for the whole tour.”

“I know. But I mean how are you?” She finally got what I meant. What I was hinting at was nothing conversational; nothing innocent. I was merely implying that I want to know how she performs in other activities.

“That’s none of your business, then.” She said rather cuttingly. I found myself getting up quickly because of her attitude towards me. Taking a step forward, she jumped backwards, her back smacking against the wall harder than I would have pushed her. She looked around nervously as I made my way in front of her, taking her wrist in my hand. Her voice came out high and sharp, “Niall, please. I’ll scream.”

“Do it.” I snarled at her, the side of my lip twitching slightly with my threat. When she was silent, I tried to force it out of her; moving my hand down her body, my fingertips lightly brushing her clothes until they reached the band of her pants. I gripped the shirt she had tucked in her pants and pulled it out, letting my bare fingers brush her naked stomach. She shivered, shaking her head quickly. When she just closed her eyes and turned her head away from me, I pushed myself off of her with disgust, “Next time scream.” I growled.

I plopped back down on my couch, grabbing my phone and looking back up at her. She was still standing there, her shirt spilled over the top of her jeans still. My anger returned, “Have some fucking courage and scream when you don’t like what someone is doing.” I almost spat at her. She nodded quickly before picking up the bags and rushing out of the room, not bothering to shut the door.

“What happened to Emily?” Louis then said, entering my room and pointing his thumb back behind him. He entered quickly, pushing the door so it was still cracked, not closed all the way.

A sharp shrug left my body as I stared down at my phone, “What do you need, then?” I added.

“We are leaving in five minutes.” Louis informed me. Now you’re probably wondering why they tolerate my behavior and tone. It’s simple. They are all used to it so much that they think it’s normal with me. The only one who resents it somehow is Harry because it doesn’t come easy to him; I can tell that he’s afraid of what people think of him, while I’m sitting here with no feelings whatsoever.

I started to pack up my personal things in my Nike bag before slinging it on my back. My phone buzzed just as I was about to leave the dressing room. I picked it up to find that my mum was calling me, “Hey.” I answered the phone.

“Niall.” She whimpered into the phone, “Why did you text me?”

“Because I almost blew everything on the television.” I said with a long tone. Her next sentence wasn’t even a sentence. Now I know what’s wrong with her; her drunk attitude was almost indefinitely fuelled by alcohol, propelling her to not give a shit about anything that I was saying, but it’s not like she ever does anyway. She’s a drunk and my dad left her for it. I’m sure she assumes it’s only a matter of time until I do that as well.

“I’m sure you’re just exaggerating.” She slurred.

“Well, why don’t you give me a call when you’re sober, yeah?” I offered, trying not to sound disgusted through the phone. A drunk. Why couldn’t I have been born with a mum that cooked all day and just waited for her son to get home from school? Why did I have to have a fucking defected mother who shouldn’t have had children at all? I hung up the phone without waiting for her reply before milling out of the dressing room.

The studio set was breezy, with some widows propped open and a few crew members milling around, doing chores or whatnot. Instantly, my security guard, Joe, found me, walking by my side as I made my way towards the exit where the cars were waiting. The other boys had already collected there, congregating by the door and trying to decide who should go first. “I think Harry.” Liam said, “Once he goes, everyone will calm down a bit. If we keep him for last, they will just lose it.”

“Harry’s a good idea.” I agreed, stopping to stand next to the group of friends. I pulled on my sunglasses, “How many girls are out there, do you think?” I then asked, taking a step towards the large metal doors that were going to be the only thing between us and a million girls trying to rip our clothes off.

“Has to be at least three hundred…” Zayn trailed off, “Oh, looks like they have the cars around. Harry, time to go.” He smiled, patting Harry on the back. The curly boy sighed and grabbed onto the security guards’ arm and then opening the door. Shouts and screams were incredible, piercing all of our ears as Harry was pulled through a smaller crowd and into the van that was just a few feet away. It was crazy how many girls can fit in one place.

***

The thumping of the club was almost defining in my ear, beating low in my soul and forcing me to become excited and agitated at the same time. The boys weren’t here; just Louis was with me. The rest were at the hotel; but Louis and I went out for the night to have some fun. There were so many girls scattered around the crowd that looked appetizing to me. There was one in particular who was dancing up against another girl. I made my way over there with Louis’ eyes trailing after me.

“Hey.” I said, grabbing her wrist. She smiled, pushing herself against me. Instantly, I felt sick. I hate it when girls are too wiling with me… but they always are. Maybe that’s why I’m single. I pushed her away from me gently and turned away. That’s when I saw her She was refreshingly out of the crowd, leaning against the bar. She had a flowey dress that lingered around her upper thighs. The black material looked soft from here as she stood next to another guy. He was tall and skinny and had a hint of red hair.

“Don’t.” Louis grabbed my arm, “She’s with someone else.” He insisted.

I threw my hand out of his, “Does it look like I care?” I snarled at him. Before walking over to her, I tried to get her attention. He was talking with a smile on her face to the man. Her dark hair flowed down her cheeks and shoulders, her dark eyes staring at him as they continued their conversation. I could tell that she wasn’t that interested in him or their conversation; just waiting for someone else to come and pull her out of the encounter. I moved a few feet to the left until I was standing in her range of view. Instantly, her eyes blinked twice, and they fell upon me.

At first it was like she was looking through me, but then her eyes glinted with a spark when I was sure that she was watching me. I stepped forward and she turned so she was facing me. The guy next to her was still talking in her ear as I made my way over to them. Her eyes were locked on mine the pupils dark and inviting by even the most dangerous boys. She tilted her head to the side as I stopped directly in front of her.

“Can I help you?” The boy said over her shoulder. The girl stayed silent as if waiting for my answer as well. She didn’t break our eye contact when she was yanked behind the boy, standing slightly diagonal from his shoulder. He was obviously trying to protect her from whatever he thinks I am or what I want to do, but she wasn’t feeding into it. Her chin tilted slightly downward as she waited for something to happen.

“I want to know who she is.” I said in a low tone.

“Do you?” Her perfect voice slipped through the air like a feather, floating towards me over the loud music. Her tone was peculiar, dancing over the beat of the music over to my ears and sliding into my mind. The octaves and heavyweights of her sound were like magic to me in the dark. The boy glanced back at her, giving her daggers for eyes, praying for her to stay silent.

“Let me handle this.” He spoke to her. His tone wasn’t one of a lover; but a protector. They had obviously come together, or he had followed her. It’s amazing the kind of interesting revelations you can discover when staring into a beautiful girl’s eyes. But this one; I’m trying so hard to decide what she’s thinking but they are hidden from me. She’s hidden from me. The boy spoke again, “What do you want?”

“I want her.”

Her mouth curved up in a smile, a dangerous smile. The air surrounding our small confrontation was growing heavy and hot around. Thick. She tilted her head when I took another step forward; almost daring me to take another and another towards her. “Well you’re not going to get her.” The boy snarled at me, almost taking a step towards me, “She’s my little sister, there’s no way you’re getting near her.”

“Whatever you say.” I said, holding up my hands. I took a step backwards in surrender, or a seeming surrender, and backed away from them until I crashed into Louis, who was standing off watching the whole thing. I turned to him and he gave me a dirty look, to which I responded with a shrug, “Couldn’t shake the guy… it was going to get ugly so I backed down.”

“I was kind of hoping you were just afraid.” Louis called after me as I eased my way into the crowd of people again. He probably thinks I’m moving on from the girl and her overprotective brother, but I’m not. I’m merely wasting time so that’s what they believe before I wander back towards them. Louis followed me, still complaining about my supposedly rude actions from before.

“I’m never afraid.”

“I know.” He snapped, “That’s the annoying thing about it.” His voice was a low grumble from behind me. My eyes glanced to the left, behind me and Louis to discover that the boy was dragging my girl away. They were heading for the exit of the bar; grabbing their coats and tugging them on. He turned away from her just for a moment to pay their tab at the bar, pulling out his wallet.

I moved fast; like I always do, and grabbed her arm. She was about to scream with surprise but I clamped my hand over her mouth, dragging her away. She stayed quiet while she struggled against me for a moment, but when I shoved her against the wall, she winced and whimpered down until she was quiet. Her smell danced around my nose and senses, almost choking me with the lust in my chest.

Shaky breaths left her mouth in huff, and I let them slip around me while her shock slowly left. My hands were pinning her against the brick, my left on her hip bone, fisting the fabric of her dark dress and my right up by her shoulder, where her neck meets her collarbone, pressing my fingers into her soft skin. I couldn’t help but allow my knee to find it resting between her legs as I kept my body pressed against hers.

“Don’t say anything.” I instructed, glancing to my left to see Louis standing by the bar, looking around for me. I could also see the girl’s brother slipping his wallet back into his coat pocket, then turning, only to find that his sister is gone. I don’t have much time. “I just want you to know that just because you have a brave brother doesn’t mean I won’t get you.”

My voice came out in a harsh whisper, my hand moving to clamp down on her mouth again, her dark eyes tearing into my mind, “I want you to be mine, and I always get what I want. You may not know who I am right now, but you will. Trust me, you will. Your puny brother will fail to keep you from me because you’re mine. Just remember that it’s only a matter of time until I collect what’s mine.”

I then pushed myself off her small body and she let out a sharp gasp when I pulled her with me, my fingers wrapping around her wrist. I let her small hand go and she stumbled out into the bar and away from me in the small corridor. Her dark, flaunting eyes that had appeared before were replaced by angry, yet frightened black pupils as she backed away from me with her hand on her heart.

Her hands felt their way around her neck and up to her face as her brother found her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She was finally turned away from me when he pulled her through the door of the bar and out onto the street. My feet carried me into the bar as well only to find Louis grabbing my arm, “What did you do to her? I just saw her leave practically in a trance with that guy.”

“It was her brother.” I shrugged.

“Well, what did you do?”

“I told her that she was mine.”

“And then you let her go?”

“For now.”

Notes

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