Pretty Venom |N.H|

41

Jasey Foster

July 3.

I have tried to forget about what Louis told me, his warnings about Niall. It's hard though, because I know he wants to look out for me, and that only worries me more.

What could be so bad that I need to be warned?

I don't even want to think about it.

It's been two days since my conversation with Louis, and nothing has really happened since. Nothing life changing at least.

There was a brief make out with Niall backstage, but that was interrupted when Scott began to panic about a mishap in Niall's wardrobe, and Niall felt too bad letting him freak out alone, so he left to go help him out.

Despite Niall's efforts to appear as the tough guy in a rock band, you can definitely see bits of his real character coming through where he admires his friends.

His friendship with Scott is a great example of that, because Scott is someone who won't put up with Niall's shit, and Niall knows that.

Sometimes they go back and forth, but you can tell it's just to mess with each other, and it's never anything serious.

Slowly but surely I'm seeing more of Niall, the side of him he tends to close off, and I'm eternally grateful for that. I hope it is a result of him getting comfortable with me, enough for me to see and understand him more.

Although, I'm still left wondering what the fuck Louis was talking about.

I don't want to ask any further questions, but I know I probably should.

While I pour myself a cup of coffee, I almost drop it on myself at the sound of someone calling my name across the room.

"Jase! When you're finished, can you come here for a second?" my dad calls out behind me, catching my attention. I turn on my heels to find him waving me over to a table.

"Yeah, hang on," I mumble while wiping up the few drops of coffee I had in fact spilled, luckily missing my hand and avoiding burning myself with the liquid.

That would be an awful way to start the morning.

I pour in a packet of creamer and mix the drink together quickly before heading over to him.

"What's up?" I sit across from him at the table, and he closes his laptop, leaning over to reach into his bag with a serious look on his face, sending my heart into a beating mess, wondering what this could be about.

"I have something for you," he tells me, leaving out what it could be, purposefully trying to be suspenseful, but it's just worrying me if anything.

He hands me a white envelope.

Well, he actually put it on the table, then slid it across like we were in the middle of some big business deal.

I hesitantly reach for the envelope with my name printed on the front, along with my dad's company logo. "What is this?"

"Your paycheck," he raises his eyebrows at me, expecting me to have known.

My eyebrows furrow. "I'm getting paid?"

His eyes shut, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you serious?"

That came out wrong.

"I mean," I start while waving my hands around so he knows that isn't what I meant, but rather an initial reaction to him handing me a paycheck when I wasn't expecting it. "I didn't take this job because I wanted to get paid. I thought it was just for experience, like an internship."