Pretty Venom |N.H|

83

Niall Horan

September 4.

I woke up this morning in my old bed, my bedsheets floating around me as the nearly broken ceiling fan above me hums as it spins.

It was weird to think about waking up in this bed again. I grew used to the repetitiveness of sleeping in a bus bunk, then sleeping in a hotel bed. Having one night of sleeping in my own bed forced a bit of normalcy into me, but for some reason, it didn't feel normal. My world feels flipped upside down, and at this point, the most outrageous and ridiculous things are now what keep me feeling like myself.

Harry's mother made us a nice breakfast this morning, similar to the one that she made the day before we left for the tour, since she had expected us to run late the day of.

Explaining to her that we were leaving again was hard, and it was confusing for all of us.

We as a band still didn't know what we were doing, and we didn't know the real reason we were needed back. We didn't want to pass up the chance to get back out on the road, but it still left us with unanswered questions that we were searching for the answers to.

She was happy to hear that we were working things out, sort of.

She had gotten excited to have us back, and hearing us return last night only to say that we were leaving again clearly had her upset, not in a way that she would show us, but we could easily tell.

I packed everything I could last night, stuffing the last few items from my wash in my bags this morning before walking out the door. I made sure I didn't forget my jacket for Jasey like I had with the drawing I left behind. The last thing I needed was to forget the one thing I promised for myself. I checked my bag about fifty times on the way to the airport to remind myself that I hadn't forgotten about it.

I was pissed about everything, which was clear in the way I slammed my shit around as I packed my bag, along with the quiet state I had forced myself into once we met up with Liam and Louis at the airport.

I didn't want to talk, which became pretty obvious.

I started to act like Louis when we flew home. Angry, but closing myself off.

When we boarded the plane, I stuck with Harry and fell asleep right after we took off, knowing that this flight was going to be long and we needed to make sure we were well rested before the show.

When we landed, we had to change in the airport bathroom while we waited for our car to pick us up and take us to the venue. We wouldn't have had time to change at the venue, and we were already in a time crunch.

Seeing the excitement that the fans had towards tonight's show had me feeling guilty, and there really was no reason for me to feel that way, but I guess seeing how anxious everyone was to see us perform made me think about how depressing it would have been to see them find out about the cancelation, if it actually happened.

We haven't talked to Jim at all since yesterday's phone call, not counting when he sent Harry a text saying that the car should be at the airport soon. I don't count on him wanting to have a conversation with me, yet now we are back for work, and that silence is still there.

We get to the venue after a short ride and quickly run inside with our things, tossing them into the dressing room as we go by. I see Zayn in passing, say a quick hello, but my attention is pulled elsewhere at the sight of someone else, which has me excusing myself from Zayn's side.

When I see Jim for the first time, noticing him walking down the hallway in front of me, I can't stop myself from walking up to him. I follow through his trail, and I know he can hear me near him, but he doesn't turn around.