anobrain // narry au

babe

what are your thoughts on Cara and Kendall? No one hasn't voiced anything about their presence in the fashion show so i'm asking out of curiosity.

i also agree on all of your opinions about the harry fight. i just can't voice mine because ... well, i'm the author and i just never take sides lol.

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chapter forty-five. tangled in the great escape.

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I INTENTIONALLY BLOW OFF school and work for my bed. To lie in it all day long. Forgetting the troubles and the real world and the fast paced Physics' class assigned to me a semester ago. But none of it matters, none of it, because I've concluded that it's best for me to take off a year to figure myself out. To find myself and the future I want to pursue as a career — it's more than necessary.

Thankfully everyone supports my decision. Fortunately everyone is beginning to respect my choices as an adult, for once.

And Harry isn't apart of everyone because he left as expected. With no further words for me, but apparently goodbyes were said to Louis and Zayn and even Liam. Which hurts. It hurts and disturbs me deeply. Still, I would have liked to wish Harry the best in his modelling career. I would've liked to warn him about the changes coming his way for a fandom.

His agency would only make him change himself for everyone's opinions. They'd supply Harry with wealth, fame, and photoshoots. But all of that comes with an emptiness that'll arise after everything is done or happening. I'll still know the actual Harry, my Harry.

I'm left to stand as a silhouette in everyone's dream — Louis is leaving to New York City soon to be what he desires to be. Harry's an upcoming model for an important modelling agency. Zayn will, hopefully, become a successful photographer or writer, and I, I'll never know what's in store for me. That is until it comes.

Louis blows off our hangout because he's busy. Busy preparing for the States and his university and I only wish him nothing but success when Tomlinson makes it into the fashion world; Louis will make it into the fashion industry in some years or so, he's destined to be.

As I'm about to fall into another peaceful slumber away from the hectic society better known as reality, my phone rings out profoundly. The number identifies itself as my father's and I'm a bit apprehensive to answer since when my dad left with his replacement of a family, it wasn't on the best of terms.

Plus my father's presence comes along with drama and stress. Two characteristics I need the least of right about now, so, ruthlessly, I decline his incoming call. Only desiring content and tranquility. I turn over to fall back into sleep.

OVER THE MATTER OF hours I inwardly decide with myself it's best to attend work. To complete my evening shift at Colourful Sandwiches. The job is good, the people are polite, but I can't help but miss the not so punk rock Punk Rock. My old boss, Dylan who was nothing but high spirits and a great person to work with. Him and Louis. Two people that'll always have a positive impact on my life as an adolescent.

I'm not able to make it down the stairs without meeting my mother's wary gaze directed on me. As strong as the stare is from her, I subconsciously know I'm done for. In some kind of trouble as she points to the seat of the lounge's couch for me to sit upon. I easily comply — even when my mother demands for me to call in for work. The instructions arise more apprehension from within. Still I oblige her command without a second thought.

She sighs at me, my mother. Almost disappointedly. "I spoke to Harry," she brings to my attention. And without even having to ask I know what she's already up to.

Responsively I scoff with my arms crossed over my chest stubbornly, yet she hasn't uttered another word. When I go to speak, my mum beats me to it. Intentionally cutting me off to voice her thoughts. She's always been like that.

"You're being selfish Nilly and you know that," she tells me. "You don't have Harry's best interest at heart."

The facade I've spent about several days building up automatically falters and begins to distinguish. Only because my mother is practically -- with a vague confirmation -- taking Harry's side. The one person I would want to see situations in my point of view is completely disregarding it.

She continues, "As you get older Nilly and you begin dating, you have to learn how to take your other's feelings into consideration, too --," I go to make a rebuttal but my mother gives me the index finger. "I don't know if you've told Harry you love him yet or if he's told you, but if you love someone you'd only want them to be happy. Even if you aren't a factor of the someone's happiness."

My mother continues her rambling to make me feel like even more shite. She informs me about Harry's horrible experience in Brisbane because of me consuming his thoughts since we're on bad terms. She tells me about the minor panic attack he suffered from while he was there, alone. And I'm the blame for all of Harry's Australian troubles somehow.

The words sting like a bees metal tail. They pull at my heart strings like a violin, leaving me to gasp for breaths under the sudden bad atmosphere my mother provided me with. It hurts that she blames me for my relationships low at the moment, and maybe I'm just a downfall for everyone I surround myself with. Maybe.

My mum stands to her feet after our conversation, one wouldn't say. Her feet trail to our front door. An exit I've never yearned so long for before opening the door with the knob. She looks intently at me as the outside reveals itself to the both of us. "Now go fix it," she commands.

Like a deer in the headlights I stare at her causing my mother to huff at me, frustratingly. "You don't have to be with Harry, Niall," she says. "But the least you can do is be on good terms with him. He may not be your boyfriend but he was once your best friend, still is."

The words persuade me to rise to my feet slowly, and walk out of the front door. It's the only build of courage I'll ever obtain if I go to see Harry.

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Do you agree with the way Niall's mum handled the situation? Do you think Niall reacted the correct way to his mother's words? Why, why, why.