Finding a Happy Ending (Niall Horan Fanfic)

Chapter: 34 Let it Be

Niall's P.O.V.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I didn't dare even check it. I knew who it was calling me. It seemed the vibration was even louder against the car seat, and I knew everyone in the car could hear it.

"Niall," Harry sighed and put a weary hand on his forehead. "Answer your phone." He broke the silence that had kept everyone awkward since they stepped in the van. No one needed to tell us how tense it was in there. And I knew it was all because of me. All day, my phone has been going off. When I finished the concert, twelve missed calls. I feel guilty, but hopefully sooner or later she'll realize it's for her own good.

The phone stopped buzzing. I sat there unmoved by Harry or the phone. No one spoke the rest of the car ride.
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We got to the hotel around eleven. The hotel we were staying at happened to have a secured alternative entrance, so for the first time in a long time, we had no crowd of fans to go through. We went up a private elevator, and made it to the floor only available for private access. I liked hotels this way. It meant we could run up and down the halls naked, and no one but us could see.

When the doors of the elevator opened, I rushed out. I stormed off to the room and belly flopped onto the bed. This all felt so horrible. I didn't want to have to do this to Samantha. It felt so very wrong. But, I admit to myself it is all for the better. I have done this before believe it or not. Dated a girl while I've been apart of One Direction, and then ignored her for the sake of her sanity and the fans. I've always chickened out of relationships because I'm scared of what all the fans may do. I mean look what just happened with Samantha! She was literally attacked by some fans and some odd girls all because of me. I grabbed for the pillow and collapsed my face into it. Why do I have to be so odd? The other guys seem to be able to date without problems in their mind of paparazzi and fans, so why can't I? I really want to call Samantha back and just make up some story on why I didn't have my phone, but I knew I couldn't do it. I liked her so much I had to stop liking her. If that makes any sense.

I heard the door open and I could only assume it was Zayn, my roommate. I didn't look however, because it didn't matter. Zayn made his way to his bed and climbed on it. I could tell because the springs bounced. The T.V came on and I heard the low muffle of some news. I didn't bother to listen because my mind plagued me with so much noise anyway.

Why was this bothering me so much? I knew my conscience felt guilty for the fire, and for leaving, but leaving was the best thing I could do. Maybe if I just give the situation some time, my life will return to normal soon enough. I worked with the idea my life will be able to get back on track quickly, so I was able to take myself out of my position on the bed. I got up slowly, and trudged my way to the bathroom. I decided a shower was the best solution to calm me down, so I undressed and stepped into the hotel shower.

I turned on the hot water, and the steam and water poured down. I sighed and ruffled some fingers through my hair. Finally some peace. I didn't really take up any soap yet since I was still enjoying the feeling of warm water hit me.
However, as I stood there, my mind started to wander. Much like every human being on the planet, I did some of my best thinking in the shower. I tried my best to avoid the topic of Samantha and New York all together, and instead thought of songs. I thought about the concert and how even though something was on the back of my mind, I managed to sing and enjoy myself on stage. It was like every other concert, the only thing is once everyone was done with meet and greet and everything else, it went silent. No one talked the car ride home except for Harry once, but for the most part everyone stared out a window of into space. I knew why too.

And damn, I just started thinking about Samantha again. I picked up the bar of soap, and washed, though still on thought. There was one time I remember, not too long after the New Years surprise, Samantha told me about some dream she had. She said she was lost in some pitch black place. She scrambled every which direction, trying to find her way somewhere. But she said she was lost, and as she was giving up, she said a hand appeared. A giant, human hand. She claimed she took it trustingly and clung on as it started to rise up. She had nothing else to trust except this hand, so she only hoped it was bringing her to light. However, once they were really high up and she felt wind in her hair, they stopped. She barley had time to look around before they hand dropped her. She fell and fell until she felt her body splat on the ground like a chewed up piece of gum. She woke up terrified, but unsure of what it meant. I was still in a different time zone than, and she called me right when she woke up. We talked about it, and her worry sent her to a hiccuped voice and a few tears. I calmed her as best I could and told her things would be okay.