Chapter 2: New start

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LIAM’S POV

“Where’s Niall?”

The concert ended up and we’re in the car to go back to our houses. We’re about to drive off when I realize someone is missing; Niall.

“Oh, he’s already gone,” Marco says.

“What do you mean he’s already gone?” Zayn exclaims.

“He wanted to go I don’t really remember where.” Marco replies with a calm voice.

“And you let him leave?!” I tell, outraged. “We have to leave all five together, he could get mobbed by some fans! There’s not even a bodyguard with him?”

“We trust him.” Marco says.

“But he’ll be there tomorrow, right?” Harry replies. “We have another concert on tomorrow night.”

“Sure.” Marco whispers as the car drives off.

I don’t understand how they let Niall leave like this. We can never leave our bodyguards, the managers are too scared. So why suddenly, Niall would wish to go without us and without bodyguards and that they let him? I’ll have to check out what’s going on. It smells weird.

NIALL’S POV

I feel the cab stopping. I get up from my guitar, the tears still shining on my cheeks; the sun is coming at the horizon. We drove all night long.

The driver turns to me.

“It’s time to get out.” He tells me.

“Where am I supposed to go now?” I ask him, wiping my face with my sleeve.

“Here’s the address.” The drives replies, giving me a little paper. “They transferred your stuff over here.”

“I don’t even have my house left?!”

“No. You’re starting off from zero.”

I pass my hand in my face, desperate. I rub my neck. The driver gives me a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, chap.” He says as a tear make its way down my cheek. “It’s no easy but you can get through this. Don’t worry.’

I just shake my head from left to right.

“Where are we?”

“You’re lucky. Where in Ireland, at Mullingar.”

“It’s probably the only thing they didn’t take away; my childhood.”

I open the door of the cab then take my guitar and my bag. I look at the address of the paper and walk on the street. I look at every house, searching for the one with the good address. Finally, I find it.

It’s a small wooden house. I sigh as I get to the entrance door. It’s not even locked. I get in and all of my furniture is there. They’re all crammed together; the house is not big enough to put distance between them.

In my bedroom, my clothes are in a big heap on the floor. I don’t have energy left to clean the house. I don’t even have energy to think.

My head is crossed by a million of different thoughts. I can’t believe what is happening to me.

I lean my guitar against the wall then fall on my bed, exhausted. 

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