× Horan

Friday night and Jace and I were at The Courtyard Bar.

The place was pretty busy, making the two of us huddle at the end of the bar just to have a conversation. I saw Lynn's friend, Jillian, taking orders and cleaning tables, along with her boss and other co-worker I didn't know the name of. I knew Lynn wasn't going to be working; she's probably in her room getting ready at that moment.

There must have been a special I didn't know about, ladies night, perhaps, because the amount of girls in the bar was an unusual amount than normal. Lynn's boss, Finn, was taking full advantage of it as he kept refilling women's drinks and saying it was on the house.

"Oh!" Jace said abruptly, like he just remembered something. "Did I tell you? Hazel is doing really well with her chemotherapy. She's not getting so sick anymore, though she's almost lost all her hair. But she's being pretty optimistic about it all."

"That's great," I said, offering him a small smile. "Will she be at the gallery tonight?"

"Yeah, she hasn't been to one before so she's buzzing."

I raised my beer in the air in a salute and took a sip. I've talked to Hazel a couple of times when Jace was with her, and regardless of her being this utmost, raging bitch for hurting Jace the way she did in secondary school, she was pretty cool. And I hated her for that. But she definitely didn't deserve to have cancer. No one deserves that.

Two girls came up to us then, a blonde with a nice ass and a pretty Asian with the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen. They didn't look familiar, but that didn't mean they didn't go to the same school. It was a big university. And for as much as I paid attention, they could very well be in my chemistry class for all I knew.

"Hey," the blonde purred, leaning down on the counter next to me, making sure to tug down her tight shirt to expose her chest even more than it already was. "You're Niall Horan and Jace Layton, right?"

I looked her up and down leisurely. "Maybe. Who's asking?"

"I'm Christina," she said and gestured to her friend. "And this is Gracie. We were hoping maybe you two could give us a good time."

I looked over at Jace even though I already knew what he was thinking. This wasn't going to happen. But I didn't tell the girls that, instead, I decided to string them along. I wanted to see what exactly they were asking for.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked with a lazy smile.

Gracie moved in closer to her friend, making sure to rub her body against the blonde like it would arouse us from girl-on-girl touching or something.

"We heard some rumors that you two like to have some fun," she said, her warm eyes looking directly into mine. "You get around; thought we could get in on it."

I wasn't even a little surprised that they heard rumors like that about me because a lot of them were true, but that was the first time hearing them about Jace. With Jace, they were most definitely rumors, and false ones at that. He was the most gentlemen-like out of all the lads I had ever met. There was no way he would ever go along with this. Besides, even though Jamie was a thousand miles away and not even an official couple, there was no chance he would do that to her.

"You know," I started, leaning in closer so they wouldn't miss a word I said. "If you would have come up to me two months ago, I would have. But I don't do that stuff anymore."

The blonde girl's smile wavered slightly. "What do you mean by 'anymore'?"

"I mean that I don't shag girls to get off."

Then the smile disappeared completely and her gaze shifted to Jace, almost pleading with him. "Sorry, ladies," he told them with a not-so-sorry shrug.

They looked rather pissed as they watched us. Then the blonde took her friend's hand and walked away, not even bothering to look back at us as they moved onto someone else.

Before Jace or I could say anything, there was a bitter laugh from behind us. I turned and saw a different blonde looking at me from her booth, her blue eyes dark with anger. Abby Moor stood up and walked toward us, arms crossed over her chest. It surprised me a little that I didn't notice her sitting behind us, but then again, there was a lot of people in that bar. Lionel Messi could have made an appearance and I wouldn't have noticed.

"You put on a good show, Niall," she said. "Even I believed you. But I know better."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, spinning around in the stool to look at her.

"'If you would have come up to me two months ago, I would have'," she quoted in a deep voice, imitating me. "You say that like you haven't slept with anyone since then when I know for a fact that you're lying."

I felt my heartbeat pick up. What did she know? Did she know about me and Lynn or was this a ruse?

"Because if you were telling the truth, then what the fuck were you doing with me on New Year's Eve? Oh wait, that's right. You were just using me."

"What is she talking about?" Jace asked, looking at me disputably.

Abby laughed again, that same vicious laugh that told a whole story just in the sound. "Of course. You tell Jace everything except for the events you know you screwed up in."

"I didn't do anything wrong, Abby," I said through clenched teeth. Not to you, anyways, I added in my head. "It was all consensual."

"You're right," she said with a snarky grin. "I'll give you that. You're just an asshole."

The Abby Moor that once followed after me like a lost puppy, the Abby Moor that pushed Lynn into a pool because she was jealous, the Abby Moor that once gave me a box of M&M's with her own face on them wasn't standing in front of me then. From the cold look she was giving told me that I was right. Instead stood a girl who looked like Abby Moor and sounded like Abby Moor, but this wasn't her.

"It's a sad day when I have to thank Lynn Mercury for showing me who you truly are," Abby added, a lot softer now.

"I wasn't hiding anything from you, Abby," I explained. "I told you what I wanted but you twisted the image around and made it into something that it wasn't - into something that you wanted. I never lied to you. Your imagination made me into the saint you thought I was."

Abby tensed and I knew I struck a nerve. "But you said you cared about me."

"I do, just not in the way you want me to. I shouldn't have used you like that, and I'm sorry. You deserve better."

It might have been my imagination, or a trick of the dim lighting and smoke in the bar, but I swore I saw her lip tremble slightly. Her gaze was fixated on the floor. "I just..."

"Like I said before, Abby. If you ever need to talk, just let me know."

She gave me a quick curt nod and then hurriedly walked away. I turned and looked at Jace, who was staring at me like I was a ghost.

"What the fuck was she talking about, Niall?" he asked and I knew I was caught red handed. I didn't have a choice but to tell him.

So I did. I told him everything, from entering that damn house party on a mission to find Lynn and tell her how I felt, only to find her snogging Harry. Then I explained how that was the reason why I went after Abby, to let out some rage or something stupid like that, and then when Lynn found us and convinced Abby to question my motives. And finally I explained how I tried to hurt Lynn through manipulation only to end up in a bathtub all wet.

"I used Bradley's tactic against her knowing what it would do to her," I finished.

"Jesus, Niall. Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I? Abby was right, I didn't tell you because I know I fucked up. Except she just thought it was because of her. Abby doesn't know what happened after she left..."

Jace didn't say anything for a bit. He took a few drinks of his beer before he finally spoke. "And Lynn was just okay with this?"

"God no," I laughed ironically. "She was pissed, but we talked and... and I don't know. I know she holds what happened close to her heart and I regret it every single day."

He shook his head at me. "You know, I'm not surprised this happened," he said smoothly. "And it makes sense that it happened with Lynn since you love her."

"But that doesn't make any sense to me," I stated angrily. "It's such a paradoxical behavior. If I love her, wouldn't that mean I would treat her better than that?"

"The people who are likely to cause us harm are likely going to be people we love," Jace said, watching me closely. "It's not the strangers we need to fear."

× × ×

I had to be honest; I have absolutely no interest in art.

What was the appeal? Sure, sometimes they were pretty to look at, but for the most part it's just paint strokes on a canvas. Sculptures were the same way. How can you go from Michelangelo's David to something that literally looks like a pile of shit? And to think people pay millions to own something like that just baffles me.

I was currently staring at a photograph of a white light surrounded by blackness. That's it. There was clearly something I was missing because the people around me seemed to stare at it like it held all the answers to their problems.

In my opinion, the real masterpiece in the room was standing in the corner looking at a photo of a broken bike.

The dress she was wearing was striking in the simplest way. It was black and short, automatically a favorite of mine. The straps were thin and the front V-neck dipped low, collarbones and the curves of her breasts on full display. There was an oval cutout on the back, going down to the bottom of her spine, her shoulder blades exposed. The shoes she was wearing made her taller than most of the people in the room. Caramel hair was pulled back with a black clip and fell down her shoulders in waves. She was hands down the most beautiful looking piece of art in the room.

I moved onto the next photograph, trying to understand what I was looking at. After a few minutes, I gave up and continued down the row.

Just as I was about to turn the corner, I bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," they said.

I looked up and came face-to-face with chocolate brown eyes and honey blonde hair. I remembered those eyes, the last time I saw them was during the Halloween party, dark from the shadows of the shed.

"Morgan?" I asked, a little breathless.

Lynn had told me that she was in the hospital the last she knew, saying that her mum wanted her to stay to get help with her "drug problem" from her "suicide attempt". I wondered if she was let out for good or if she was just enjoying the outside life away from the cream colored walls of the hospital.

Morgan didn't say anything as she looked at me, a mix of surprise and resentment.

"How are you doing?" I asked because, honestly, I didn't know what else to say and walking away seemed rude.

"Fine," she said briskly.

I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, feeling rather awkward. "I'm really sorry what happened to you. Those pills shouldn't have been at that party in the first place."

"Are you really sorry, Niall?"

My brows furrowed. "What? Of course I am."

"Lynn came to the hospital to visit me, you know," she explained, changing the subject. "We talked about that night on Halloween, and then the conversation turned to you."

I watched her carefully, trying to determine where this exchange was going to go. Her face was blank of any emotion, leaving me grasping for anything, some kind of tick or movement, but I was left disappointed. Morgan had a strong poker face.

"Do you remember how we met?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes."

It was the night of the bonfire. I had just dropped Lynn off at her hall and found Morgan in the lobby of mine. We exchanged maybe two words before we were on each other and in my room.

"For so long I blamed myself for being stupid that night," she confessed, taking a step toward me. "I let you have my body, and then the next morning you throw me away like trash. You didn't even look at me, Niall. But then I talked to Lynn, and she told me that it wasn't my fault for the way you acted, and she was right. Ever since that night, I was dwindling in self-loathing, when you should had been the target of my hatred."

Goddamn, what was up with girls and attacking me today? First it was Abby and now Morgan. How did an innocent trip to a bar and a simple stop at a gallery turn into so much revulsion?

"You didn't even visit when I was in the hospital. I saw you, Niall, in the shed. I may have been half unconscious and more than a little drugged, but I saw you, and you didn't even fucking call me once I was admitted."

"Morgan, I don't owe you anything," I defended.

She looked at me, like what she was telling me flew right over my head. "I know you don't, but has it ever crossed your mind to just be a good fucking person for once?"

She gave me one last, long look before walking away.

"Morgan, wait," I said after her. She turned around to face me again. "You're right. I've been an ass to you. I should have visited or gave a call, and I'm sorry."

She nodded. "I appreciate the apology, but it's too late for that."

I watched her walk away, out the door, and around the corner, not giving me another look.

It never crossed my mind that in an attempt to not get hurt by sleeping around, that I was hurting other people in the process. If there was any good that came out of Abby and Morgan's conversation, it was this.

I slept around because I couldn't do anything else to stop the crippling loneliness that filled my heart and mind with cruel thoughts of empty beds, hollow hearts, and Alina.

I liked to fuck. Not have sex or make love or whatever else cliché Nicholas Sparks and hopeless romantics call it. F-U-C-K. I liked how it was spelled, so simple yet inflicting so much. I liked how it sounded in my mouth or streaming from someone's lips. I liked pretending the other person wasn't even there. Nothing about them was really important. It was how they made me feel. No matter how much or how little they cared for me or I for them; it took me to a place that I could never escape by myself. Fucking removes the anger and sadness and leaves raw emotion. It was just pleasure and happiness and feeling.

But most importantly, I couldn't get hurt.

I looked over at Lynn again. I used to be like that. Now I was laying myself open for someone again and it could very well rip me in half.

Taking a few breaths to calm down, I stepped away from the photographs and found myself standing next to Lynn. I didn't say anything, I just looked at the image she was staring at and tried to wonder what was going through her mind when she took it.

"I never thought I'd see my stuff in a gallery," Lynn spoke up softly. "I never thought I'd share my stuff to the world."

Across the room, I saw Coach talking to a group of people, a wine glass in his hand. A few feet away stood Andrew and Matt looking at a photograph of two men in bed together and having a rather loud discussion about it. Around the corner I could hear Reece chatting up a couple of girls and failing miserably. The whole team was there to support Lynn. She was grateful, but I knew it wasn't enough.

This was a big accomplishment; I knew she wanted her grandma to be here, her friends and her brother. But I knew she mostly wanted her parents; to stand beside her the whole time with proud smiles on their faces. I didn't know anyone who didn't want that.

"Why broken things?" I asked her, looking at the three pictures in front of us.

Lynn crossed her arms over her chest. "Not broken, really, but damaged. Things you can't fix or return to its original state without replacing it completely."

The first image was of a swing seat torn in half. A lot of things could have caused it, like rotting wood or some kids thought it would be funny to rip the swing in half. Either way, it was a swing seat you couldn't repair unless getting a brand new one to substitute it. The other image was of a broken bike. The front wheel was missing and the paint was chipping off. The chain was wrapped around the bars and back wheel. I suppose you could fix it, but in the state it was in, you'd be better off getting a new one.

"I took this a few hours out of LA," Lynn explained, photograph to the third painting. "It used to be a foster house a long time ago I had learned later. There was a kitchen fire that ended up taking over the whole building. No one was hurt."

Taking a picture of a fire damaged house that happened years ago to a different family must have been devastating. But hearing that story made me understand why she took images like that. As sad as it was, it was symbolic to her life.

"Hey," Jace said, walking up to us, Hazel right beside him. "This is a big turn out."

Lynn nodded. "Yeah, that's what Kathleen said. Biggest she ever had."

"Congratulations, Lynn," Hazel said with a smile.

She was wearing a navy blue dress that reached the floor, Jace's jacket around her shoulders. Her headscarf was the same color and the necklace around her neck looked like it was from handed down from generation-to-generation.

"Thank you for coming," Lynn said. "It means a lot that you're here. All of you, really."

"I just came over here to let you know that we're taking off," Jace explained. "Hazel has to go to the hospital early tomorrow and it's almost eleven."

Lynn gave them both a hug and bid them goodbye, leaving the two of us alone again. But that only lasted a few seconds before Kathleen and a tall, muscular lad came over, congratulating Lynn for about the thirtieth time tonight.

"And who's this?" Kathleen asked, looking at me. "Your boyfriend?"

Lynn laughed nervously. "Uh, he's my teammate, Niall Horan." she clarified and then pointed to some of the other lads around the room. "The whole team is here to support me."

"Oh, you'll have to forgive me. I don't watch sports," Kathleen apologized. "I'm more into documentaries. I shouldn't have assumed, you two just look really nice together. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Lynn assured her. "We get that assumption quite a bit."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. All you had to do was open a magazine and you'd see a picture of the two of us with some kind of caption about us being together behind closed doors. They weren't wrong, but that didn't mean they had any business to assume so.

"No Jonah tonight?" Lynn asked, looking at the tall lad next to Kathleen.

"No, he went back home with his mum," he said, crossing his arms. I couldn't help but notice how big his arms were. "He was only here to visit for a week."

"Oh really? Because I was able to get two tickets to our next game for you guys. Do you still want to go?"

"Absolutely," he said, a wide smile spreading on his face.

I had no reason to be, but I was jealous. I stood off to the side and watched as Lynn laughed and touched this buff lad's arm. I knew it was all innocent, but the squeeze of my heart was still evident. I had no idea who he was; Lynn had never mentioned anything about him from what I could recall. I didn't even know his name.

Crossing my arms, mimicking his stance, I took in his physique and couldn't help but compare him to myself. He was a lot bigger than I was; his arms were the size of support beams. He was a little taller than I was and his hair was a lot shorter. He reminded me a lot of Reece.

"Niall."

I looked over at Lynn who was watching me carefully. "What?"

"This is Liam Payne," she said slowly. "We met in the darkroom a month ago. He's the reason my photographs are up on the walls."

The lad held his hand out to me. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I responded.

"I should really get going," Liam said and smiled at Lynn one last time. "Congrats again."

Lynn waved after him before turning to me. "You okay?"

"Fine."

To my surprise, a sly grin ticked at the corner of her mouth. "Are you jealous, Niall Horan?" she asked. "You are, aren't you?"

"Okay, okay," I laughed and turned away from her. "You don't need to gloat."

She reached out and loosened the tie around my neck slightly, making sure to keep her hands on my chest a little longer than necessary.

Lynn's deep blue eyes looked into mine. "You want to get out of here?"