- bulletprxxf lxve -- styl(arry)inson + ziall horlik

- lxxi - new romantic(hicken diggity)s

— taylor swift: but darling we found wonderland, you and I got lost in it and we pretended it could last forever —

Previously on — bulletprxxf lxve —:

Rich turns the squad’s attention to Liam by asking him, “Is your dick really 10 inches?” Liam’s eyes bulge out of his orbits and roll onto the bed. “Or are they 11?”

“Uh,” Liam is tongue-tied, unsure if he should answer the question, not answer the question or where the rumor that his penis size was that size started from.

“He has one dick not two,” Kylie says.

“What?”

“You said or ‘are they 11’?” Kylie corrects him.

“Are they?” Rich asks.

“Dimwit.” Niall lightly slaps Rich’s arm. “It’s ‘is it 11?’ not ‘are they 11?’!”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Rich insists.

“Oh jeez,” Tristan sighs. “This is what happens when you drop out of high school.”

“And get a plastic cock,” Kylie giggles.

Rich ignores her and asks Liam, “So which is it, 10 or 11?”

“Or is it 12?” Nick winks.

“It can’t be 12, that’s too big!”

“Because then it would be half of your size,” Kylie says and the laughter that fills the room immediately can be heard down the hall to the elevator which is seven rooms away.

“I got a new dick!” Rich cries out.

“Made In China,” Tristan says. He signs the letter F in the air. “Fake!”

“It’s real, you sucked it and you know it’s real,” Rich cries out again.

“I tasted plastic,” Robin’s girlfriend says

And now:

Niall bites his bottom lip in a state of anxiety. It is a couple of weeks to Christmas and he is already packing to go home. Almost packing to go home.

He had already found a match for his liver while he was in Australia and the liver transplant was successful. He was starting his radiotherapy for mouth cancer which he and the doctors and agreed to start when he was back in London. His knee surgery was scheduled the beginning of December so that he would be ready for the concerts by end of January. As for his drug addiction? He simply did not know. Harry signed him up – albeit forcefully – to a (rich and exclusive) rehab center in Southern UK near the beach yet every day it was hard to go with either alcohol or his coke while he was still in Australia… thankfully he had his weed or else he would simply die.

He hears three knocks to his hospital room door and calls Zayn in.

“Hi,” he greets.

“Hey,” Niall greets back, his back to the window where the sun is brightly shinning. Zayn shifts on the spot, his head cast downward to his feet.

“I like your shirt,” Zayn comments. Niall is donned in a BMTH black shirt, ripped red skinny jeans and black Converse on his feet.  “Where’d you get it?”

“Ladavid got it for me.”

“And your skinnies?”

“From Rich,” Niall says.