Niall Horan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a mix of guilt and anticipation. His plan had been set in motion: to feign sickness and get a day off from the gruelling tour schedule. It wasn't that he didn't love performing with his bandmates, but sometimes the exhaustion caught up with him, and he craved a day of rest. Plus, pranking the others was always a bit of fun.
He coughed weakly and adjusted the thermometer under his tongue, making sure it looked convincingly high. Just as he expected, a knock sounded on his door, and Louis' voice called out, "Nialler, you okay in there?"
"Yeah, Lou," Niall croaked, careful to sound as feeble as possible. "I think I've caught something. Feel awful."
The door creaked open, and Louis poked his head in, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "You look terrible, mate. What's your temp?"
Niall withdrew the thermometer, studying it dramatically. "Ugh, 101.5. I think I need to stay in bed today."
Louis frowned sympathetically. "Alright, mate. You sure you don't need anything? Medicine? Soup?"
"Nah, I'll be grand," Niall assured him, suppressing a grin. This was working even better than he'd hoped.
Louis left him to rest, and Niall settled back into his pillows, already planning how he'd spend his day off.
As the day wore on, Niall's feigned illness seemed to garner more attention than he'd expected. The other boys popped in periodically, offering him soup, checking his temperature, and generally fussing over him. Niall played up his symptoms, relishing in the attention and the success of his prank.
But as the hours passed, something unexpected happened. Niall began to feel genuinely unwell. What had started as a playful deception now seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. His head pounded, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his limbs ached as if he'd been running a marathon.
He mustered the energy to call for Louis, who rushed to his side. "Mate, I think I'm actually sick," Niall confessed weakly, the guilt of his earlier deception gnawing at him.
Louis looked skeptical. "Come on, Niall. You've been milking this all day. Are you sure you're not just tired?"
Niall shook his head, wincing at the pain that shot through it. "I swear, Lou. I wouldn't lie about this."
Louis sighed, clearly torn. "Alright, I'll get Liam. He'll know what to do."
As Louis left the room, Niall's heart sank. He'd cried wolf one too many times, and now when he needed his friends to believe him, they were hesitant. He braced himself for their disbelief.
Liam and Louis returned with concerned expressions, followed closely by Harry and Zayn. Niall felt a pang of guilt at the sight of their worried faces. Had his prank gone too far?
Liam took charge, checking Niall's temperature and examining him for any signs of illness. "His fever's high," he reported, frowning. "We should get him to a doctor."
Niall nodded weakly, relieved that they were finally taking him seriously. As they helped him out of bed and into a waiting car, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their concern, despite the circumstances.
At the doctor's office, Niall was diagnosed with a severe case of the flu. He felt a mix of embarrassment and relief as the doctor prescribed medication and advised plenty of rest.
Back at their hotel, the boys took turns sitting with Niall, bringing him water, medicine, and anything else he needed. Niall realised with a pang of regret how lucky he was to have friends who cared for him so deeply, even when he didn't deserve it.
As he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the sounds of his bandmates' chatter and laughter, Niall made a silent vow to never fake sick again. He'd learned his lesson the hard way, but at least he knew now that his friends would always be there for him, no matter what.