Before this chapter starts, I just want to let you know that I am so stressed with school right now. My grades suck, I might have my first ever C in a class and I'm not mentally prepared for that when I've only gotten a B once. It's all insane and I find myself crying way too often just because of anxiety and stress.
So I will not be able to update as frequently as I would like to, but when I find time I will try my best.
Sorry, just wanted to let you know. I hope this doesn't disappoint anyone too deeply.
I still love you so much, but it's hard juggling school by its self, and this story is just another ball to add and I can't handle that.
Songs of Inspiration:
21 Guns - Green Day
Battle Scars - Lupe Fiasco
Little Bird - Ed Sheeran
Allyson's POV
TWO WEEKS LATER
"Here's the last song of the night with me on the air! Thanks for listening...this is Allyson Parker and you're listening to Boston's hottest radio station! Have a great night,"
I tap the song to play and then relax into my seat with the biggest smile smeared on my face.
"You've become quite a natural Parker," TJ smirks at me, nudging my arm.
"I guess so,"
"It's better than working in that tiny ass office all day. Well, I'll see you tomorrow," he nods to me and I say my own goodbyes to him and Devon before gathering my belongings and heading to the elevator.
Once the lift reaches the bottom floor, I exit the lobby out to the frigid New England air.
Thankfully due to my recent promotion to being a radio host, I received a little raise that helped pay for this new jacket I bought. It really makes walking home at night more tolerable, since my last coat let the wind right through it.
I take out my phone and check my recent messages, and no surprise they are from the same old people; Kevin, Morgan, Jordan and Niall.
Morgan is just informing me more about this new co worker that she finds fashionably attractive, and Jordan is asking, well, more telling me that he is coming over with pizza and wings for the Bruins game later. It's the playoffs, I don't expect anything less from him.
Kevin is just checking in per usual, the same thing he messages me after work...everyday. It's thoughtful, and sincere that he is concerned with my well being, but honestly, it gets boring. He gets boring. He isn't Niall, and never will be. He isn't as exciting, isn't as funny. He doesn't have that little quirk to his personality, it's just rather bland.
Yet, Niall's message is yet another colloquial response to our previous conversation.
Instead of texting back, I dial his number.
He picks up on the second ring.
"Hello," he says so simply.
"Hello," I repeat his introduction.
"How are you?" he asks.
"Just walking back home from work, so I'm fine. How are you?"
"Just hanging at Harry's, so I'm fine too,"
The line is silent as I continue my walk down the conversation.
Every time we talk now a days it's so restricted. As if neither of us want to say anything we don't think the other will want to talk about. Neither wants to be intrusive. I don't even know what to talk about, what do exes even talk about?
Exes aren't even supposed to talk, so why do we?
"That's...good," I try to carry on the conversation but fail, due to my lack of social skills.
"How was work?" he asks, the same one he does every time I call him on my walk home.
"Just fine."
Fine. A word both of us seem to use in every response.
We always say we are fine, that everything is fine.
But is everything really fine?
"So how's Harry?" I ask, since he is at his house. I feel like every time I talk to Niall he is at Harry's, actually.
"Good, his birthday was the other day but the place is still a dump from the partying. Us five lads go pretty hard core at parties, even when it's only us and his mum and sis,"
I smile giddily at the sidewalk, and almost trip over nothing as my mind runs elsewhere to my surroundings.
"Wait, Harry's birthday was recently? Shit if I would've known I would've sent him something," I groan. Morgan would've wanted to know, too. I wonder if she did.
"It's fine, he doesn't want anything anyways. He got mad at us when we bought him gifts, and all I bought him was a onesie and a couple of pillow pets,"
I can imagine Harry getting all stubborn at his band members for buying him gifts. He's generous and humble like that, and that is something I will never fully grasp. Just how good he is compared to this dreadful world. Sometimes I wish he had someone as good as himself for him. Like a down to Earth girlfriend, someone for him to love him like he deserves.
"I can see that happening," I giggle.
"You should've seen his face when Lou walked in with a card board cut out of himself though! That was one gift Harry didn't get mad at us for buying!" Niall laughs, contagious enough for me to laugh also.
"Like one of those life sized ones?" I ask to clarify.
"Yes! And it was from a photo shoot like four years ago! We were so little and Lou looked so awkward and young," Niall's laugh goes high pitched, and that's when you know he's really in for it.
I restrain my laughter as I cross the street, but then let it all come out when I reach the opposite sidewalk.
"That's too funny," I say once I am calmed down.
This is the most laughter I've had with him in ages. Probably since...Christmas.
And I'm not going to complain about this, ever.
It's an improvement, a change that I like.
"You know who else has a birthday coming up?"
"Whose?" I ask, trying to figure out which band member also has a February birthday.
"Yours."
"Oh, yeah, I kinda forget about that," I mutter, my eyes darting around the sidewalk at the people I pass by.
"I know we are just friends now, but I do want to get you something, and I hope you don't get mad because I'm going to either way," he says and I can't even find a way to argue back.
"I will ship it out though, because I don't think you want me to come out and give it to you personally?" his assumption comes out as more of an interrogative statement.
"I don't know what we are supposed to do anymore," I sigh.
"Well you know what I wanna do, I'm just waiting for you to realize that you want it too," he adds, and I roll my eyes at his indiscreet way of saying this.
"I have my reasonings," I reply.
"I guess...I went on a date last night," he says so abruptly that I actually stop moving, and have to step to the side of the side walk so I don't cause a bump in traffic.
"Oh...really? How was it?" I choke on my words at the bile rising up the back of my throat.
"It was...nice. She was...nice," he says and I'm almost happy that's all he has to say about the girl.
"What was her name?" I ask, and make a note that who ever it is, I will personally dislike forever after this point.
"Charlene. I went to school with her, and she has her own bit of paps out for her 'cause now she's doing shoots for magazines and stuff," he adds and I restrain myself from jerkishly laughing at him going on a date with a model.
Niall Horan? Dating a model? Please. He would hit it off better with a teacher or librarian than a stuck up model.
"She sounds...lovely," I lie.
"So how are you and Kevin?" he asks, another question he always seems to ask.
"Kevin and I aren't a thing for like the millionth time," I roll my eyes, and continue my walk home. I am only a few blocks away at this point.
"It's okay if you are, I can handle it. Just want to know the updates and all with your relationships. I wanna be honest wit you, ya know?"
"Yeah, I guess," I say, the irony in his words stabbing into my heart.
"So what are your plans for Valentines Day?"
"Niall, I won't even date you, do you really think I'm going to give myself to anyone else? No, no I'm not going to," I tell him the truth, in words that I hope he grasps this time because he just doesn't seem to understand fully.
"Just checkin' love. Just checking."
"Do you have plans?" I ask.
"Yep. With my bed,"
"Oh really? So you're just gonna jerk off in bed? Lovely way to spend Valentines Day," I joke.
"As if you assume I do things like that. Nice, Allyson. Nice," he responds, in a tone of annoyance that I know too well to be faked.
"I'm joking! But I'm not an idiot either. It's okay if you do, it's better than screwing some random girl. I'd rather you bring yourself to your own pleasure than some slut," I laugh at my own comment.
"I don't understand why you can say that you would be jealous if I slept with another girl, but then refuse to be my girlfriend," he says and I sigh.
"Niall, I like being friends. Can't we just continue like this?" I plead.
"Whatever it takes to keep talking to you," he sighs.
I turn onto my street, and spot Jordan's car already parked in front. I guarantee he has already made himself a spot on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, thanks to the house key that he bought himself without the consent of Morgan or I. I could file that as a police report for a kick, but I guess he's my friend and I guess friends don't go to the police over their friends.
"I'm almost home," I tell him.
"Do you want to FaceTime when you get home?" he asks.
"Actually, Jordan's over to watch a hockey game," I respond.
"Oh okay, another time then. Rain check it. Oi and tell my mate I said hello!" he says cheerily.
"Okay, I will. I think he misses you and Harry. The lack of males around him anymore frustrates him," I laugh.
"I'll have to catch up with him later," he says as I step up onto the final stair to my doorway.
"I'll talk to you later, bye Niall," I tell him.
"Goodbye Allyson, please text me during the game and call me later,"
"Niall, I know the time difference between Boston and England. I'm not going to call you at two in the morning no matter how many times you ask me too. You need your sleep," I scold him and I hear a soft sigh through the line.
"You're stubborn. Goodnight my love," he says and I try to respond but just end the call and slip my phone in my pocket instead, then enter the warmth of my apartment.
Well, sort of warmth. It's been a bit hotter inside now that I am actually getting paid decently, and so is Morgan, so we can afford a little more heat.
"Niall says hi," I shout to Jordan over the loudness of the television.
"When will I be getting an invitation?" he asks, but I'm not sure if I'm mishearing him because of the noise.
"What?" I question, moving closer to the couch when I slip my shoes off and hang up my coat.
"When. Will I. Be getting. My invitation?" he waves his arm up ungracefully and I'm still confused, even though I seemed to hear him right the first time.
"To what?"
"Your wedding with the Irish dud," he says so nonchalantly.
"Can you like shut the fuck up?" I snap.
"Tell yourself that," he replies.
"I don't even know why you like him again. When I first flew home you thought he was the biggest dick in the world," I counter argue.
"Yeah, but every guy can is a dick. That doesn't change the fact that he loves you more than the fucking air he breathes," he says and I stop myself from smiling at the thought. Because that would be absurd.
"I don't want to get hurt again," I say, plopping next to him and grabbing a chicken wing off of the table.
"Life is specifically made to hurt people. Getting hurt is inevitable so stop being so scared of the world. You're gonna fall down but you have to get back up or you're just going to continue to get run over," he says, eating a mouthful of chips.
I take in his words as I devour my chicken wing, and watch the plays of my favorite game in the world, contemplating every action I have made in the past months since this blonde haired, blue eyed Irish boy walked into my life.
Or should I say, I walked into his.