I Found Niall In My Closet

Day 1 of the disappearance of Niall Horan 8:13 AM

Day 1 of disappearance of Niall Horan 8:13 AM:

 Still sluggish I pulled myself out of the shower. I hated Mondays. To be honest I didn’t like any day Tuesday through Thursday either but Monday were always worst. Carelessly I rung my multicolored hair out in the shower and groaned. Maybe I could procrastinate until I was late to work and I had no choice but to skip, but who was I kidding? I needed the money. It wasn’t easy for an eighteen year old right out of high school to pay for an apartment even if it was in Small Town USA. Reluctantly I reached out for the softness of the white towel I had laid out. Crap. I set it out on the farthest possible place.  Leaving the humid warmth of the shower I entered the frigid air and eagerly wrapped the towel around my body as soon as my fingers landed on it.

This was why I hated Mondays.

Griping, I pulled the soft fabric closer as my bright hair dripped on my skin, yeah I dyed my hair. It was mostly brown with streaks of blue, green, and purple in it and I had to admit it looked pretty darn cool. I remember when I was younger and my friends were surprised to learn my hair wasn’t natural multicolored. I actually grew up in a different town although I moved here as soon as I graduated school in June. I hated the way everybody judged me and that nothing hardly happened. And to be honest I hated everyone there back. Once again I wrapped the now nearly soaked towel closer to me as I braced myself for the freezing air of my bedroom. Quickly I stepped out into the open and gasped . . . .

I really needed to clean my room. Shirts, pants, panties, and bras were splattered all over the room which showed how much of a slob I had really become. I didn’t like being so messy but I had a job and I couldn’t be bothered with cleaning up all the time. Not quite wanting to slip on the ridiculous beige kakis and bubblegum pink ice cream T-shirt I meandered over to my closet as I looked over at the dozens of posters of One Direction hanging neatly on my wall. There were several pictures of them as well as their girlfriends hanging up Carelessly I slung the door white painted door open and begun to take my towel off until I saw . . . a figure of something . . . with bleach blonde hair . . . a green Ireland T-shirt and suddenly the dozens of posters plastered on my wall began to glare at me. That figure was no stranger to my imagination. I had Niall James Horan in my closet. I looked down to the boy who was down by my feet looking up at me with shock as he snuggled with a pair of converses. Quickly I went over my options in my head. A) I could politely ask him why in the world was he in my closet and not in London or B) I could strip the towel off and jump him. As much fun raping him sounded I thought that would scare him too much so I clutched the towel to my breast.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY CLOSET?!” I shrieked with half giddiness and half anger. My excitement started to boil . . . I had a famous boy band in my freaking closet this was so unreal! It took all my strength not to totally fangirl as he looked up to me with those big pools of blue. Lord this is what I’ve dreamt about! Wait. How’d he get in my closet in my first place?

“Uh?” He groaned in that adorable Irish accent still in a daze from just waking up. Once again I had to contain my fangirling and my bouncing up and down. “I . . . uh.” Quickly his eyes darted around my room as a look of confusion flashed across his features. He didn’t have a clue did he?

Trying to regain my composure and not smile like a madman at the same time I looked back at him. “Do you know why you’re in my closet because I could call the cops right now on you for breaking and entering.” I spoke in a forced calm voice. Once again confusion flashed across his face.

“What the . . . you’re American! Where the heck am I?” he screamed a bit angrily now and of course not using the word “heck”.  

Suddenly I gulped. “You’re in West Virginia . . . you don’t know why you’re here?” Niall shook his head and looked at me.

“Wait I’m in West Virginia? I’m supposed to be in London, our tour starts up tomorrow!” He cried out letting worriedness etch his voice. Hurriedly he searched through his jean’s pocket and came back empty handed. “I have no phone and no money.” He exclaimed desperately as he clutched a few strands of his dyed hair in his hands.  Suddenly a brilliant plan formed in my mind. I could help him and then maybe we’d fall in love and have beautiful American-Irish babies and become famous. This really wasn’t a bad idea and it would help me get close to One Direction. If I helped him I’d get the life I’d always wanted . . . one with excitement.

“Um well okay, I’m Autumn Bell and you could stay here and figure something out.” I offered pulling him up out of the layers of runners and flats on the floor of my closet. As he came up I knew he noticed my posters for he was staring awestruck at the thousands of posters and pictures. “You could say I’m a fan . . .” I muttered as he mumbled something about dedicated fangirls. Hopefully I hadn’t scared him off.

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Okay yeah I started a new story but I really had no choice! My friend was making me a fanfic so she told me I'd have to make her one! SO I dedicated this first chapter to tofuloves1D for being the main character in this story. Now please comment, vote, and fan!

Love,

Ashley Joy :)