Dark Temptations: A Niall Horan Imagine

Chapter Sixteen: Love Will Remember/ One Less Soul

Merry Christmas everyone in America! I hope your day was exciting! :) My Christmas was yesterday because I am in England visiting my family for the holidays. Here's another production of Dark Temptations. Enjoy :)

Chapter Sixteen: Love Will Remember/One Less Soul

“Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot,
 full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
— William Shakespeare

        I can do this. There’s no going back now. Just act like a normal human being. I can do that, right? Ugh stupid, Y/N! You just smudged lipstick above your lip! Stop shaking. I snap the cap back onto my cherry red MAC lipstick and set it on the counter. Taking a Q-tip to erase all lipstick mistakes, I rub my lips together to even out the application. I take a small step back to look at myself in the gigantic mirror. My mascara started to run because of my constant sweating. Sighing, I dab some tissue on the area and reapply mascara with the wand. I hesitated slightly while reaching for the wig that lied on its stand. After gently finger-combing it, I place the wig on my head and parted it into its natural place. The wig is bright mahogany-blonde with bleached blonde highlights, a colour that differed from my own by tons. It was chest-length, with voluminous curls cascading around my ears—hiding them, while accentuating my cheeks. I comb it through once more and take a complete look at my reflection. I did not recognise the beautiful girl staring back at me. She had luscious red lips that brought out her eyes and deep curls bounced against her chest. She wore a black metallic halter dress that revealed her bare backside. The hem only came down just in the middle of her thighs. Her lips formed into a scowl at how revealing the dress was.
           Her eye makeup is smokey and well done and brightened her eyes. They travel down to her legs and onto her feet, which were in a pair of really high glittery-silver platform pumps. Just looking at them made her breathing pick up. She shook her head, ridding the thoughts that were creeping into her head. I take one, deep breath before stepping out of my bathroom. I pace around my room, so I could practice walking in my heels. They were only five inches, but they felt like eight. In which case if you didn’t know, is simple way of asking for death. Or if you get lucky — a broken ankle.  I honestly did not know how Samantha made it look so easy to walk in these as if they were just regular trainers. I bet the girl could probably run in them. If my plan were to backfire, my quick getaway would to just ditch the heels and run with the life I carried with me, barefooted. I glanced at the digital clock that sat on my bedside table. It was getting close to 10 PM. My parents weren’t home, like usual. I went into my parents’ bedroom to get my mum’s Louis Vuitton bag. I filled it with all my basic necessities—gum, tampons (Mother Nature is like a ninja down there, okay?), ten euros, two MAC lipsticks and a gloss, and a pack of tissues. And of course, a mini version of Taylor Swift’s Wonderstruck perfume.
            Snatching my keys off the table next to the front door, I take a step out into the chilly, darkening night.
                                                                                                                  
                                                                                                                    ***

             The place was filled with numerous intoxicated teenagers as I made my way past the heated crowd. The party became busier and louder as the night drew on. Funky Buddha was infused with neon lights of various colors, making everyone’s skin gleam with different auras. I slowly make my way to the bar and grabbed whatever was supplied onto the table. The gold, bitter liquid sloshed around in my cup as I squished my way through the many sweat-filled teenagers. The music pounded against my ears as I made it through the crowd. In the corner of my eye, I swear I saw a flash of bright blonde hair. I did a double-take to confirm that my vision wasn’t playing tricks on me. My heart starts to pick up a faster pace and I find my legs making their way quickly through the crowd. My hands shoved intoxicated teenagers out of my way to create room. I find myself in a dark corner of Funky Buddha and I knew I lost track of him. I feel sweat start to form at my hairline as I back myself away from the crowd. I feel something hard but body-like behind me and I drop my cup to the floor in shock. I feel a wet spot form and widen on my dress. I run a hand across it until I realise what it was.
            “You little fucker! Look what you did to my—“I look up at the person who made me spill beer on my dress. His face was unfamiliar, but either way it sustained my repugnance for him. I could immediately smell the alcohol on his breath, probably even if I was a mile away.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He slurred.
“This dress was 200 fucking quid and you ruined it!” I fume. His hand sloppily comes towards the strap of my dress and attempts to pull it down.
“Take it off, baby. You’d look better without it, anyways.”
Furious, I kick him in the groin. His hand flies away from my shoulder and to his inner thigh. He howls in pain, but the loud music muffles it, making it oblivious to the others.
“Fucking perv!” I start to storm away but I feel his warm hand grab my forearm and jerk me back.
“Dance with me.”
I give him a disgusted look. “I have a boyfriend.” It wasn’t exactly true but it was the first excuse that came to mind.
“That’s not shocking. With a fine girl like you, I can’t imagine anyone resisting that sexy arse of yours.”
He attempts to squeeze my bum but I punch him square in the jaw. Apparently it wasn’t hard enough because I didn’t get the reaction I was expecting. He laughed at my failed actions.
“Nice try, honey. But you need some boxing lessons, because your self-defense is pathetic. No offense, baby.”
“I’m not weak. Considering I just put your balls out of place. Won’t be having babies anytime soon. Not like you’d be getting lucky though, either.”  I give him a smug look.
“Oi, you’re even sexier when you’re feisty. That turns me on.” He licks his lips in lust.
“You are disgusting. You’re...repulsive!” My voice was filled with venom.
“Or crazy. But that’s underestimating it.”
“Go away.” I command, furiously.
“Give me a show. Two hundred euros.”
“You’re not getting any of this,” I say, waving a finger at my cleavage, “for any kind of bribery.”
“Three hundred.”
“Suck a dick.” I give him the finger.
“C’mon baby, don’t be like that.” He attempts to pull me against him again. I shove him away and knee him in between his legs. He releases me and I make a run for it. I hear is painful moans as I grow farther away from him. I look for the nearest place to rest myself before my heels started blistering my feet because they were unbearably burning my soles. I take them off and limp towards a sleek, blue couch hidden in another corner of Funky Buddha. I checked to make sure there were no other creepy perverts around before sitting down. I felt instant relief in my legs and feet as I lowered myself into the plush cushions. I watched as the drunken teenagers dance under the heating lights. I hadn’t seen the faces I had been hoping to avoid while I was here again as I was passing through the crowd. I ironically heard the lyrics of I’m Into You float into the DJ and onto the loud speakers. Jennifer Lopez’s voice flowed throughout the area in a clear manner. Sweaty bodies glided against each other in tune to the music.
             I recognised a few girls from school on the dance floor. They were dancing with their mates interactively. I felt a small frown form on my lips. That should be me right now. Not here. In a wig being sexually harassed by someone I didn’t even know. I wish Niall was here. I know he’s here because it’s his and his bandmates party, but I wish he was actually here, beside me, protecting me. I tried very hard to avoid the numerous posters of One Direction’s newly released album, Take Me Home, that were plastered all over Funk Buddha. All of them looked adorable and much more mature than in their last album. They were surrounding a familiar red telephone booth, and silly Niall was inside of it. Although the party was exclusive, no sign indicated that One Direction was hosting a party here due to not wanting fans to be piling outside the doors, crashing the event. They were probably totally oblivious that a celebration was even going on, considering they all were creating an army at the stores that were about to put the album on the shelves in just under an hour. 
               I became completely unaware of the world, as if I was deeply in thought. It sort of pained me to be thinking of One Direction, let alone Niall. It’s been just a little over a day since our—departure and it stings my mind to even think of his name. All through the night I have tried assuring myself that it was the right thing to do. But I can’t fully bring myself to believe it. I try to recall the events of last night, even though I was reluctant to. Niall was in danger, I felt that he was. So like every girlfriend’s instinct—I had to check on him. But the fact that he was not there is what confused me the most. So what led me to believe that he was not safe?  It didn’t make sense at all. I sat, ruminating what happened not too long after escaping the boy’s house and Niall’s ransacked bedroom. I was on my way here to Funky Buddha in which I knew the guys were still decorating. I had gotten in a car accident with an incoming truck but then I realised I was just hallucinating it, which was pretty damn scary if you ask me. But if I never was in a car accident, then how did twigs and leaves appear in my hair when I finally arrived to Funky Buddha? I don’t recall ever falling outside. As I got deeper into my thoughts, the more confused I became.
                I draw myself to the back of Funky Buddha in which I knew there was a bathroom. I go into the woman’s restroom and look at myself in the individual mirrors. The beer stain was terribly noticeable under direct light, and I looked at it in disgust. Turning on the water, I grab a bundle of paper towels and repeatedly dab the water onto the stain to clean it. Out of nowhere, I hear a creaking sound. I bypass it as just a person in another stall and continue to rub the stain. I hear the sound again—much louder this time—and turn around. I look under every stall in search for a pair of feet, but I find none.
                        “H-hello?” I ask, cautiously. No answer. Fear started to creep up my spine as I stood in the eerily quiet. Something wasn’t right. I considered leaving, but I shook it off. Going back to the mirror, I take off the wig and set it on top of my bag. Taking a brush, I let my natural hair loose and brush through each strand. I reapply my lipstick and perfume and consider myself ready to go. Just as I was about to leave, I hear the tap off a microphone and the music die down.  Someone clears their throat into the microphone before speaking.  I pause, my hands still on the door.
“Excuse me, ladies and gents. I have an important thing to announce, so if I can gather all of your attention, that’d be most helpful.”
The crowd grows silent.
“Thank you. As all of you know, in just five minutes, the clock will struck midnight, and we all know what happens then.” He chuckles. There is only one man in the world with that laugh. It’s that I-rarely-ever-laugh-because-I’m-very-serious-whatsoever kind of laugh. I realised who was speaking.
            It’s Simon.
“For the past long, long, months, five very talented boys have worked together—as an extraordinary team and band—and have produced their next already hit selling album across the nation. Through the sweat, tears, and laughter that was put into creating this album, I think we have come to an open-standing conclusion,” the audience laughs.“Everyone, I present you One Direction’s new album, Take Me Home!”
          Everyone cheers and claps as the clock strikes twelve. I hear more sets of footsteps on the stage and one of them takes the microphone. He speaks, and his familiar voice instantly makes me freeze.
“We like to thank you all, that are here with us on this fine night. Our producers, co-workers, directors, musicians, so on and so forth. Without all of you, we would not be here, celebrating this wonderful achievement.” Niall says.
         The audience claps again and C’mon, C’mon flowed into the DJ. I walk back towards the mirror and planted my hands on either side of the sink. What was I doing with myself? So far, my plan hadn’t shown any signs of backfiring, but it’s not like that won’t ever happen. Taking precautions, I slip the faux hair on again and gathered myself to go out. I walk down the dimly lit hallway when I come faced towards a storage room. The bazillion boxes aren’t what caught my attention in the storage room. It was a dress. Well, not a dress...but the dress. Wait, not even that. It was my dress. I enter the storage room, making sure that no one else was in here. I examine the dress from its hanger. It’s silky, purple fabric made it so irresistible. I was supposed to wear this dress tonight. I frown as my fingers run through the long dress. So unfortunate. I can recall the event of getting this dress. Niall said I looked so beautiful in it, he knew it was a keeper. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t think about anything else.
“Find what you’re looking for?”
I turn around in shock.
 It was Niall. Dammit. “I uh—um. I was looking for the bathroom.” I spoke in a voice I hoped Niall wouldn’t recognise.
Niall narrows his blue eyes at me. “Are you sure?”
I nod.
“Hmm. For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
“And why is that?”
He ignores my question. “There’s something about you. You seem—familiar.”
I start to sweat, but I try not to show it.
“Have we met?” he asks.
“Not that I remember. You’re, Niall Horan...right?”
He chuckles “the one and only.”
I nod hesitantly. I glance back towards the dress. “Who’s this for?”
His smile disappears and turns into a deep frown. “It’s for a special someone.”
“You mean ‘was’?” I suck in my breath. I just put my freaking foot in my mouth. Shit.
“H-how’d you know about that?” his voice contains suspicion.
“You’re mega-famous, Horan,” I say matter-of-factly. “News gets around quickly.”
He nods his head once. “Oh. Yeah, guess.” His head hangs low, and I feel like I had just been punched in the gut.
“I’m so sorry, Niall. Y/N was...” pretty stupid for doing this to you. I finish in my head. I was about to say that aloud, but then Niall would think I was hating on his ex—or technically myself. Niall pulls down the sleeves of his navy blue shirt in discomfort.  
“No. Y/N did nothing. It’s my fault for letting her go so easily.” He says the last part quietly.
I kept myself from the urge of walking over to him and hugging him and telling him that I’m sorry. Before I could say anything, a bright fake smile grows on his lips.
“Would you like to go get a drink with me?”
I pause before speaking. “Uh—I um...I don’t think that’s the best idea in the world, Niall.”
“I insist. You seem alone, come join me at the bar.” His smile brightens. He holds out his hand for me to take.
“I’m—I’m underage.” I say quickly.
He laughs. “How old are you?”
“That’s not something I should share with a stranger, Mr. Horan.”
He holds back another fit of laughter. “Fair enough. You don’t have to stay long.” He offers his hand again.
I think briefly. “Just one.”
“You got it.” He winks.
I walk, but not without hesitation, towards him and take his hand. He looks into my eyes and studies them. His own narrow in suspicion.
“Are you sure we have not met before?”
I quickly look towards the floor. “No, Niall. I’m just a fan.”
                                                                                                                             ***
“Been to a concert?”
I shake my head.
“Meet and greet?”
I give him a silent nope.
“Seen me in the district?”
I laugh. “Niall, I swear on my heart that we have not met before.”
He chuckles lightly and raises his glass of gin to his lips. He looks at me as he drinks it. I stare at the dancing crowd as they showed no signs of slowing down. So far, my plan hasn’t shown any retreat of backfiring just yet. I hoped it stayed that way. I swirled the tiny straw in my strawberry margarita, becoming oblivious of those around me.
“You have not touched your drink.”
I snap my head towards him. “Oh. I—I don’t really drink.”
He sets his gin down. “You know,” he glances towards the crowd, as if making sure the coast was clear. “Y/N didn’t really drink much either.”
I felt my cheeks burn. “Oh, is that right?”
He crinkles his nose and nods. He casually sets himself back on the barstool.
“Is she here?” I ask, nonchalantly.
He takes a quick but smooth look around. “Not that I am aware of. Why do you ask?”
I shake my head, shaking his question off. I take a quick sip of my margarita. The liquid was sweeter than I had imagined. The tequila squirted inside of it made my lips pucker. It was frothy and the salt smothered my lips. My peripheral vision saw that Niall was staring at me as I sipped on the drink. I turn around on my stool to look at him.
“May I help you?”
He smirks. “I’m just trying to figure you out. I’ll ask you one more time: have we met before?”
I sigh deeply. I jump off my stool and attempt to leave. I feel Niall’s warm hand catch onto my arm.
“Wait. I’m sorry. I just, I swear I’ve seen you before. I’m just trying to figure out how I know you.”
I don’t speak.
“What is your name?”                    
I think about it for a minute. It was a question I was hoping to avoid. I thought of the first thing that came to mind, even if it wasn’t the best choice.
“Samantha.”
“Samantha? As in, Samantha Frisbey?”
I give him a small smile. “No, I’m not familiar with her.” Damn no, I was.
“Right.” He slaps his forehead. “I’m sorry; I’ve had too many shots tonight. It was nice meeting you—Samantha.” He runs a hand through his blonde hair before holding out his hand. I shake it and turn around to leave in the other direction. Each step I took, I knew that his piercing blue eyes were following right behind me. The whole time I walked, my thoughts were screaming at me.
Y/N, you idiot! You should’ve left while you had the chance. You weren’t supposed to let Niall be in contact with you. Always fucking things up.
He had to recognise you. He just had to. Dammit.
                        I grit my teeth together and clench my fists as I shoved my body through the crowd. You just couldn’t stay away. I take off my platform pumps and throw them in the nearest corner. I continue to stomp angrily through the crowd, ignoring someone who started cussing at me. I throw them the finger as I make my way towards the back of Funky Buddha again. I lock myself in the bathroom. I immediately pulled off my wig after confirming that no one else was in here. I slap my hands on the sink, unaware of the stinging pain shooting up my arms.  Way to go Y/N. I take out the purse I had hidden beneath the cupboard that contained my “costume” supplies. I angrily zip it open, but wish I hadn’t. My eyes bug wide like saucers. My things—they were gone. The only thing that was still in the purse was makeup remover. Who the hell would take my things? There was nothing valuable in it! Pissed off as ever, I rip open the makeup remover—spilling some of the wipes in the process—and roughly rubbing off my makeup. Something was wrong, the chills going down my back made it clear. I sensed movement behind me. I almost didn’t want to remove the towel from my face. I froze in my stance. My breath rose, and my knees buckled. Stop this Y/N. You’ve gone through too much today. It’s probably just some lady next to you doing her makeup. Be at peace. I quickly remove the wipe from my face and turn around. I froze again. No one was behind me. Or anywhere in the bathroom.
          I take a deep breath. Calm the fuck down. You seriously need to be on some meds, Y/N. No wonder Niall was looking at you strangely. I chuckle briefly at my stupidity. I was perfectly fine. I turn my body back towards the sink and ran the water. I rinsed off the makeup that had transferred to my hands. I dry my hands off and bend down to put my wig back into my purse. After I zipped it up, I swear I felt someone behind me. I find my eyes faced to a pair of red seven inch heels and strikingly long legs. They looked a bit familiar.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll mo—” I look briefly at the woman’s face, but not long enough to see if I recognised her.
“Surprise.”
            I see the woman raise a shadowy figure above her head. And before I knew it, my mind shut off, and then the world around me drifted into darkness.