Be My Boyfriend (ft. Narry)

a

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[unedited]

17. Sparkly Kid

niall horan's point of view

To be quite honest, I am beyond upset with myself after dreadfully rejecting the boy I'm infatuated with.

Harry is a special boy I've encountered with and I have fallen deeply in love with the way he seems to be. However, fear comes into my emotions and being frightened by tears is what I avoid from feeling. I know Harry is truly different compared to the endearing Gideon Parker, but I remain cautious over this because I'm scared of falling, believing, and then crashing all over again.

Hopefully, I'll overcome this fright and move upon Harry's emotions. Now that I know his feelings are happily mutual, I'm satisfied and confident enough. The only flaw in this is the fact that he might fall for somebody else and I might regret the rejection I've given him.

But I don't and if I do, I will take the blame myself. Because that's the only option given to me and either way, I'll do the same.

It's been a day after we went home from the camp Gideon hosted and I'm actually very wishful that something wondrous happens in between our school break, but I still doubt that. I have nothing planned as well, but Greg did offer a brief vacation to Hawaii. I just declined his offer and volunteered to take care of my charming nephew, Theo, while he experiences a remarkable time of his life. After all, poor Gregory. After the mother of Theo passed away during his birth, Greg took the responsibility of taking care of his son. It is one of the many inspiring stories of us Horans. I just don't understand why people aren't fond of our family. We have artistic members and charming relatives. We're too difficult to hate.

I sigh and shake my head. Of course, nobody can take uniqueness. That's how the society is, am I wrong? You keep on saying be yourself but you, yourself, are desperate to fit in. It's a ridiculous circle. A mean cycle, as well -- exactly what Paramore sang.

My earphones roam around my chest until they're on my ears, lightly blaring Green Day's 'Know Your Enemy'. I tap my glittery midnight blue Vans until the woman behind the counter yells out my name with my tall cup of beverage. I walk over the counter and watch the woman gape at my appearance. Mentally rolling my eyes, I loudly say my appreciation and go over to my seat in this small branch of coffee shop.

Am I strange?

I always question myself the same question over and over again because I can't seem to say it myself. I don't think I'm odd. I think I'm unique, but saying I'm weird is different. I find myself colourful because-

I just find myself colourful for mild reasons.

As I sip on my beverage, I look down at my neon pink shirt and trousers that have cute pigs flying as its design. I chuckle and coo at them, but frown when I notice that I've worn the same shirt as before. I suppose this means I'm shopping for new ones.

I don't understand why people dislike the colours I wear. Pink, blue, green -- light colours, I mean. I assume the colours are too bright for their plain eyes, but that's my point. Why are normal people so plain? Why can't they appreciate these beautiful clothes and colours that represent boldness and characteristics in the human eye?