Shared spaces

Prologue

Niall
"Don't do it" "You'll regret it" "It's pointless"
Those are only a few of the things I've heard since I made my choice to leave Ireland, pursue my dream, move to London to go to music school. I think it's fair to say that my parents aren't exactly thrilled with my life choices, but thinking about it they never really have been. They probably think it's another "phase" that I'll outgrow soon enough, just like I did with football, art, acting, the list goes on. But I won't outgrow it, actually I never did outgrow anything I just let their words get into my head, but I'm strong now and that won't happen. I won't let their words ruin something else in my life. So it comes as no surprise that they didn't drive me to the airport, wave me goodbye, tell me they'll miss me, nothing. Instead they purposefully ignored me all morning and would conveniently need to do something in another room if I walked into one where they were. It also comes as no surprise that I had no messages from them when I landed. It hurt, a lot. But I knew that this is what would make me happy and if they couldn't accept that then I didn't need them in my life.
As I stepped out of the taxi I had to remind myself that life is actually real, and this isn't just a dream. I walked into my new home along side so many others who were also here for the exact same reason as I was. We all got our room numbers and keys, and all separated into our rooms. All to live our lives the way we want to.
It took a while of going down different corridors, going up and down stairs but I finally found it. Room 317. My name was taped on the door next to another one, Zayn Malik.
I took a deep breath before unlocking the door, my door. The first thing I saw when I walked in was boxes all neatly stacked up on one side of the room and a bed already made up in a black duvet with no wrinkles at all, the second thing I saw was someone stood by the window looking out whilst talking to someone on the phone. When he turned around I swear I could feel my heart stop beating for a second, his eyes were the exact colour of caramel, his hair jet black, and he was looking me up and down. Me. Dirty, bleached blond hair which was flat on my forehead, plain blue eyes, and braces. Me.
"You must be Niall." He said lowering his phone slightly. I could feel my face burn up, for what reason I wasn't quite sure but I knew he would see.
"Yeah, yeah that's me." I somehow got out in one go.
He nodded once before turning back around and returning to his phone call.
Anything was better than home.