Something About You

Twelve. December, 2010.

He arrives back into Mullingar in the front seat of his dad's car, backpack on his lap, heart in his throat. The village is fully dressed up in Christmas cheer: lights strung across the high street, tree sparkling in the village green, carolers making their way from door to door. It all looks fake to him somehow, like something in a movie. Something he knew once, but doesn't anymore.

It's been five months since he's been here. Now, he's got a fortnight at home before he heads off to Los Angeles with the boys to start recording their first album. He can't even begin to wrap his mind around the fact that he's going to California to record an album, but that's just the way his life is now: something no one can wrap their minds around. He remembers a million years ago, in this same car, staring out the window as Greg drove them to Lough Ennell, dreaming of being in California. He's got a first-class ticket to LAX dated two weeks from today.

He goes through the motions most of the day: spending time with family, letting his gran kiss his face, answering infinite questions about what it's like living in London and how tall Simon Cowell really is. By the time he leaves to head over to Mully's he's exhausted, happy to have the 25 minute walk in the biting December air as a way to wake him up. He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his new puffer jacket, takes the long way to Mully's, and tries not to think about anything.

Everyone's there when he arrives and lets himself into the basement: Mully and Emilia curled up together on the basement couch like they were that Halloween a million years ago, Nicky and Gilly kicking a football back and forth in front of the TV as they each sip a beer, Deo standing in front of Mully laughing about something Niall can't quite make out. And Isla, too, on the couch next to Emilia, the two of them talking animatedly, Isla's hand coming up to cover her mouth as a smile stretches across her face in response to whatever Emilia's just told her. Niall's heart tugs in his chest, splutters and stops, and Isla looks up at him.

'Hey, you,' she smiles, stands up to give him a kiss and Niall wants to say no, sit down, the least he can do is bend over to kiss her, but she beats him to it, up on her tippy toes to press her lips against his before he can even step across the room. She kisses just the same as she did when he saw her last, two months ago in London, and it makes him want to cry.

'Ah, superstar's here,' Mully's saying when Isla pulls away. 'Rich and famous now mate, you couldn't bring us some cans?'

'They don't pay me,' Niall says, and it's half true. The money will come after the album, though he has no living expenses right now, with Modest! paying for everything. Appearances on TV shows pay a few hundred quid each, and he's put most of that away for Christmas presents for his family and Isla—a few cans wouldn't have been a bad idea though, he realizes belatedly. It's kind of the least he can do.

Mully's laughing though, and so is everyone else, and Niall knows it was a joke, lighthearted taking the piss the way his friends have always done, but something about it is sitting like a stone in his stomach, curdling uncomfortably. He's different, now. And his mates are too.

Everyone looks different, even: Mully's hair is getting longer and Gilly's shaved his head and Deo's gotten taller and Mia got new glasses, cute, round ones that really compliment her face. Isla's different too—her body feels new when he touches her, and there are freckles in spots he doesn't remember, places where he used to leave his own marks on her skin.

Sometimes, Niall thinks, his life has taken to feeling like a movie montage these days, a supercut of moments rapidly changing around him. It's all snapshots set to weird background music: laughing all night with Harry and Louis and missing four calls from Isla in the process, waking up absurdly early to go on the radio and sleeping all afternoon so that when he does try to call Isla that night she's fast asleep, fans outside screaming his name, strangers asking questions about his girlfriend back home. He tries to keep Isla out of it, to protect her privacy, but doing that makes him feel like he has to bury her sometimes, to keep her at arm's length to keep her safe.