Cross My Heart, Cross My Fingers [Punk'd Sequel]

Chapter 1

Niall's POV

I strummed the chords heavily on the guitar.

"Oh, I got one! What about la da da dum dum, la da da da dum dum dum?" Liam threw the idea into the air.

"Yes! We are using that one! But for now, can we please just take a quick break? I'm brain dead!" I complained.

This was the silent aftermath of the past month. Now touring and making the new album, it has been go go go, no time to stop and be a tourist, just sing, move to the next city. The one thing I absolutely hate about this job, but it is better to keep that to myself because the others seem to be enjoying it.

But I mean, have you ever been in this spot where you absolutly hate the world and think you were just put here as a test? Or as a joke? And you just hate what you made of your life, but are afraid to leave the time era of your life behind? That is how I feel. It crushes me, and no one has any idea.

But I continue on, because oh how I hate to disappoint. I walked over to the vending machine, ordering myself a Pepsi. After putting in my money, the bottle came down. I grabbed it and continued on my little tour around the building. I decided we would make this a three hour break, why not? I need some time alone anyway. I texted them all, saying I wouldn't be back for a while, my excuse being going to see new born baby Theo again. I don't bother to read their reply's, I'm too eager to retreat to my small hideout. I walked down the small hidden hall with cleaned out offices and recording studios.

 This small hallway was useless before the water damage happened from a leaky pipe. No one goes back here anymore. I found it one day, and had some help from anonymous people to renovate it, and bam, a private recording studio.

I walked in the door, my Fender coustom gitaur, desprate to be strummed. I smiled, this is my second home. Being around musical instroments, its a wonderful feeling of butterflies that arouse in my stomach, goosebumps begin in the crook of my neck and spread all over my body. I love it.

No one knows, but I am making my own album, by myself. I'm producing it, recording the vocals, and playing the instruments. All completely rock based. We all know One Direction is coming to the end of the tracks soon, so I am preparing myself for a solo career. I sat back down at my writing table, millions of small lyrics scribbled on napkins, gum wrappers, and receipts. I pulled out my half finished song, writing down a few more verses.

"The road outside my house is paved with good intentions

Hired a construction crew, 'cause it's hell on the engine

You are the dreamer and we are the dream.

I could write it better than you ever felt it.

So hum hallelujah,

Just off the key of reason

I thought I loved you

It was just how you looked in the light.

A teenage vow in a parking lot

"Till tonight do us part"

I sing the blues and swallow them too." (NOT MY LYRICS, CREDIT TO FALL OUT BOY. THE SONG IS CALLED "HUM HALLELUJAH")

Putting my pencil down, I tested out the sound, recording it on all the instruments, then adding vocals. After the end of the second hour, I had the song done, finally. I decided because I'm on a roll, to write down another few lyrics. Picking up my pencil once more, they poured back down onto the blank page. After the deed was done, a masterpiece lay in front of me.

"They're gonna clean up your looks

With all the lies in the books

To make a citizen out of you

Because they sleep with a gun

And keep an eye on you, son

So they can watch all the things you do

Because the drugs never work

They're gonna give you a smirk

'Cause they got methods of keeping you clean

They're gonna rip up your heads,

Your aspirations to shreds

Another cog in the murder machine

They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me

They could care less as long as someone'll bleed

So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose

Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me." (AGAIN, CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, "TEENAGERS". NOT MY LYRICS.)

I have to record the guitar and drums later, my three hours were up and very successful. I set everything back, leaving the room and locking it in the progress. I made my way back to the boys recording studio.

"Niall, where were you? Why did we have to take a three hour break? We need to get two songs written today, and we have a concert at 8:00!" Louis exploded.

"My new born nephew needs time with his uncle, sorry for taking family time, gee-sh" I sat back down, throwing my empty Pepsi into the trash like a basket ball and a hoop. Scoring it, I did a silent 'yes' to myself.

"Don't worry guys, I can write it" I said. They all left me with the music. I shifted my mind from punk rock to pop. I hate pop music now. The lyrics have no meaning, it's stupid. I'm making an album rock based and how I wan it, not how media training wants it. Are they recording it? No. Is it their music? No, it's ours. Three hours and many energy drinks later, I had written three songs with music. Rock based. I got up, leaving the room to go deposit the doodled paper to management. I slid them in their mailbox, labeling it with "Midnight Memories, 3".

I walked back into the room, cleaning it up from my mess of thinking. I picked up the empty Monster cans, finding a folded note sitting on the table...adressed to me.

You escaped. Not your best choice. You never saw me when I'm mad, you always stayed on my good side. Now I have your family, and this time you can't get them back. Your mother? She is going crazy. What about your father? We have him locked up in jaill for drugs. Blackmailing him was easy. Your brother and his son? They are next if you don't come back. Meet Ebony-you remember her? Right? Anyway, meet her at the same place as we did last time. Oh, and don't think of telling your "beloved" boyband, we could do you a favor and take you away from them.

That is one trait I always hated about you, Niall. You never realize how much you have until it is taken from you.

You escaped me, and this time you are not going back. And this time around, you will wish to be sent back to your real home, hell.

He's back, and people are going to die if I don't act fast.

The worst part isn't that I have to go back to E.R, it's that it's all. my. fault.