Tender like Feather, with Luck from a Clock // NH au

03:00 am

Niall's PoV

"And that is how you make a GTD 1976  Ford Model!" And that is how I make a fool of myself.

For the past two hours I haven't done anything but show dorks and children how to assemble a vintage car model that was suppose to be rare, #MadeInChina. And this is the reason why I don't have a girlfriend for more than a year now. I am so sad, with my hipster glasses.

Remember back in Mullingar Niall? Back to the days where you had your guitar on that stupid stand that can't even hold the instrument for more than two hours, to the days where Greg, Dad and you were excited for the long awaited Saturdays that were always filled with walking, playing football and the usual take-away, to the days where you tried and tried and failed. Since when did my love life came into this?!

Since I had nothing to do except to go to sleep, which will never happen, I continued my journal entry. I often write down my thoughts and then someday I could translate them into lyrics of expressions and true love. Love is not always about a boy and a girl, and boy and a boy or a girl and a girl, love is about your family, friends and God. I just love my life sometimes that it hurts. I have so much love around me yet I don't have somebody to love. The perks of being an Irish geek. My guitar always gives me company in times like these, in times of desperation I call them. This is because I am right, it is desperation of getting a partner and I don't want to just get a slut because I want someone to share the rest of life with. If you understand then you do, if you don't you just don't. 

My guitar always gives me company. I have written around 19 songs mostly about love, except for this one called 'Rock Me' where I lost my virginity to a girl I met in a Summer Camp; very Grease-like isn't it? Except she didn't go to Rydell High, she went to Immaculata. I never entered any singing competitions except X Factor where I miserably lost with my bandmates. We weren't good enough so I thought to myself maybe singing is not the career for me, I mean it is just a hobby right? So I kept going through education and finished my degree on Education with Spanish resulting me to have the option of becoming a teacher but I don't want to be stuck in a dead-end job. I needed to travel and see the world, therefore I applied to be a translator. After three years, I think I should go back to university and do a Tourism degree; that sound's perfect doesn't it? I really want to see the world, the world I could've seen with Harry, Louis, Liam and Zayn; I thought we had something but I guess not, maybe it's because we were just playing around and not been serious. Stupid Niall.

Stupid.

I dropped everything again and went to the bathroom to obviously pee. As I stared at the mosaic window my flatmate built for the house, I started to notice that I seem to be melancholic. Loner as I am, I am sort of social too. I'm not the most popular jock but some people know me. I didn't actually apply for the football team in my university because that would be silly and stupid.

Stupid.

I don't know what to do know. Seriously. I know I've been saying this for the past three hours but the bed doesn't seem to be comfortable at all even though it is clean and ready for me to lie down. The green sheets on top of the foam is exposed to the light of my bedroom as the turquoise duvet folded on a corner. I want to sleep now actually. That bed went from yucky to comfy. It took me seven medium steps to reach my bed when suddenly my brain sent a message informing me I forgot to pack my bags and stuff for my flight to Spain.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Why does it matter anyway? Why am I so into that mess I threw myself in? Why did my X-factor experience mattered?! I can't I... I can't! I dropped to the floor on my knees. A loud bang on the carpet. My tracksuit bottom comforted my fall as I buried my face with my hands, away from everyone to see the shame that is called Niall Horan. Waterfalls of tears. Unbearable treackles of sorrowful tears. I can't go on anymore; if I can't handle getting over a stupid experience three years ago, I can't move on can I? The luggage stared at me in complete shock. I didn't know what to say to it; I can't leave but I need to.

"Lately I've been, I've been loosing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be..."

~A/N~

I dunno about that ending but I kinda left it short as I think most of it is allusion so I hope you guys are ok with this :)