twenty-five ◌ the silhouette

✗

I just wanted to say goodbye to my best friend in peace. I wanted to sit in solidarity with him; to let my tears run down my cheeks and trickle onto his with one final goodbye. There was a soulful lament in my heart that needed to explode out of my chest, and I needed a dedicated, serene moment. But it was as if I couldn't catch a break— not even a quick second to hold Niall's hand one last time.

The clicking of a pistol echoed in our ears and like instinct, our own weapons were brandished before us.

"Put the guns down."

An enigmatic silhouette casually leaned against the wall with its hands slipped inside the pant pockets. Liam, Harry, and I created a human barricade around Niall as we stood together with our guns pointed at the eerie figure.

"Who are you?" Liam questioned sternly. "Show yourself."

"Hands in the air!" Harry bellowed.

I swallowed the fear in my throat and waited for the mysterious being to make itself known. In silence, the figure unhooked itself from the wall and menacingly strolled towards us. The moonbeams snaked its way through the open partition and flushed its silver light against the shadowy being.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" I didn't even know the ire-laced words slipping past my tongue came from my own mouth, till the dark eyes of the man flickered towards me.

"You recognize me," his lips lifted into a cynical grin.

"I'd never forget the face of a monster who slipped drugs in my drink," I cooly declared. My eyebrows narrowed in on the man and cocked my gun.

"Tasha, put your gun down. I'm not going to hurt you," he claimed, though I wasn't so sure if I could believe him. "I'm here to help you."

I stifled a laugh, rolling my eyes with great disbelief. With the gun still in my hands, I took a step towards the enemy. He didn't flinch at all, not even when the tip of my weapon grazed his chest.

"Who the fuck are you?" I curtly asked, my voice low and demonic-like.

"Your friend— Zayn."

My entire world shifted, like everything around me spun a full 360 and when I found myself right side up, I was in a whole different dimension. I stared and stared at the person before me, my face drenched with confusion.

"Look, I don't have much time to really explain," Zayn quickly continued, completely disregarding the three guns in his face. "I work for your father Tasha."

"You work for ANTI," Harry corrected with a snarl. He took a long stride till he was next to me, glaring at Zayn with utmost antagonism.

"I'm a spy," Zayn clarified, taking his hand to bravely swipe the gun's barrels away from his chest. "My identity has been compromised, and ANTI is changing plans."

"I don't believe you," I stated. "I can't trust your words. You're a part of this. If you really worked for my father, then I wouldn't be in this situation. Kat would be home, and our mother would still be alive."

"There's a lot of information you don't know and don't have the time to comprehend right now. The most important aspect about this current situation is Niall," Zayn's focus shifted from my eyes, to the unmoving body hiding behind Liam. "I will take his body to British Intelligence, from there Tasha, you must continue to follow my instructions."

"No, fuck that," I scoffed. "What makes you think I can actually trust you?"

"If I didn't let Kat get kidnapped, then it'd look terribly suspicious. This entire time, I've been subtly helping you," Zayn proclaimed. I shot him a look of utter disbelief, and he heavily sighed before continuing, "those men you fought off in the stairwell of your apartment, I failed to mention of your martial arts abilities. In New Orleans when you stupidly left Liam's blood-ridden dagger in Prime Corp, I stole it back from police evidence. Then there was the time you asked me which banks held your father's cash, and I responded with—"

"—Bonne chance," I whispered suddenly, ignoring everything Zayn mentioned. There was only one indication of his allegiance that bobbed in my mind.

"What did you say?" Harry turned his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Bonne chance," I repeated, the words coming out of my mouth at a much higher volume. My trance-like gaze latched onto Zayn as my mind replayed those same French words over and over again.

"I don't understand. What's so significant about it?" Harry questioned, his voice filled with both puzzlement and irritation.

"Zayn basically told me where all the banks were," I gathered, darting my eyes to Harry who only stood there with wonder painted upon his face. "A French phrase, to represent French-speaking places."

On the surface, I couldn't trust Zayn, but my gut told me to sway my thoughts. Everything that came out of his mouth, hit me with such power and I couldn't shake the feeling.

"There is a black Audi in the car park with the license plate of N-R-0-2-1-A-A," Zayn informed. He pulled out a singular key on a black carabiner from his pant pocket and placed them into the palm of my hand. "Take the vehicle and get the fuck away from Paris ASAP. Then wait for my instructions. I will have you meet at your father's safe house."

I squinted my eyes in curiosity, "my dad has a safe house?"

"Naturally," Zayn simply replied. "Tasha, you will do as I say."

"Hold on," Harry stepped in, pushing me behind him. "Who says she's going to follow your instructions? We still don't know who the fuck you are. You say you work for Julius but how can we trust that?"

"I know who's behind these ANTI attacks— the master puppeteer," Zayn declared. His eyes dawned in on Harry with an eerie stare, as he dangled this alluring piece of information above us like a piece of shiny bait.

"Who is it?" I asked, my words slipping out with care.

There was a part of me that didn't want to know who this ambassador of torment was. Of course, at the time I didn't understand why I was so hesitant in learning this crucial piece of information. But in hindsight, it was just my heart telling itself to prepare for the bomb about to drop.

"Your not-so-friendly professor, Joseph Dela Cruz."

There was no way I heard that correctly. I saw Zayn's lips move and heard the noise filtering from his mouth, but the letters strung together to create this name, had to be wrong. Was I still in shock? Were my ears compromised from the echoing sound of flying bullets and destruction? There had to be something messed up with me, because I refused to accept the idea of a man I've known for most of my life to be against me.

"You're a fucking liar," the darkness lacing Harry's voice carried with the breeze, but left a spine-chilling residue.

"Why would I lie?" Zayn let out an unamused chuckle. He shook his head and quickly continued, "you lot need to get the fuck out of Paris. Tasha, because my identity—"

"—no, shut up," Harry interrupted, fury radiating from him. He cocked his gun and pressed the barrel against Zayn's head. Once again, the dark-haired fellow didn't flinch. "Professor Dela Cruz did not hire ANTI. He's not a part of this. Either you're lying through your fucking teeth, or you've been mistaken."

"N-R-0-2-1-A-A," Zayn repeated, his voice unbelievably calm and unwavering. His eyes latched onto mine, disregarding Harry and the deadly weapon kissing his skull. "Go to the car, let me take Niall, and get away. There's no time. ANTI has no idea that you know of me, so act like everything is normal."

I scoffed, "normal."

"I'm serious Tasha," Zayn's eyes flickered over to Harry. "Put the fucking gun down and follow instructions."

It was silent for a moment, as we contemplated the situation at hand and all the possible outcomes by trusting Zayn. The issue however, the time allotted to think about this, didn't exist. It was either dive headfirst, or run back onto the shore. Before I could even open my mouth to say anything, another voice pipped up.

"We're trusting him."

I snapped my attention to the deep, unsettling voice behind me. Liam stood there, a dark brooding aura to him and I shivered.

"What?" I breathed, gazing at Liam with wonder. "How can we?"

"Because we can, we should, and we will," Liam's bitter words dripped out of his mouth like acid. "The last time you didn't trust someone you should've, Niall ended up dying in your arms."

Liam's bold statement took the breath away from me and I lost my equilibrium. A cruel dizzy spell enveloped my entire body and when my eyes trailed over to the unmoving shell of my best friend, it became certain that I was about to crash. An echoing clang of metal to concrete rang in my ears as a pair of arms held my body upwards in attempt to keep me from tumbling like the gun sprawled on the ground.

"Damnit Tash," Harry grumbled. His hands gripped onto my arms as my body diagonally planked only inches above the ground. Harry pulled me up with ease, and my feet stumbled atop the concrete to find its balance.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, my eyes glued to the ground and suddenly my feet became more interesting. I let out the heavy breath I didn't know I was holding in and rubbed my temples to ease the tension in my head. "Liam's right."

"What?" Harry quipped in disbelief. "Are you serious? We're going to trust this shithead? We don't know if he's even telling the truth."

I gradually shifted my focus from the ground to Harry's brooding green eyes. He glared at me like I were insane but my words rang true and it was the only thing I was severely confident about. My ego stood at the very top of a pedestal surrounded by silver beams when it should've been grounded. Liam was truly and shamefully so, absolutely right. There was no one else to blame for Niall's death than me— and I will forever be broken because of it.

"We're listening to Zayn!" I snapped unexpectedly. I didn't mean to sound so brutally angry, but being pulled in so many different directions, I just needed some control.

"Fine," Harry lowly spoke, holding his hands up in surrender.

When I shifted my attention back to Zayn, he no longer stood before me. Instead, he knelt beside Niall and snaked his arms around my fallen friend's body. Despite Zayn's brooding presence and rough demeanor, he held onto Niall with tenderness.

"What are you waiting for? Go!" Zayn ordered. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out because I didn't know how to coherently put together a string of words. Zayn trailed his eyes from me, down to Niall and let out a sigh, "I'll take care of him. I promise."

I nodded, not uttering a single word. Before following Zayn's demands though, I took a few paces towards him and the once lovely boy in his arms. I gazed at the pale skin, the puffy pink lips, and the eyelids that obstructed the view of Niall's iconic, oceanic blue eyes. I'd never see the light and beauty manifesting from his pure soul ever again, nor would I ever hear his infectious laughter that always felt like a warm hug. Niall James Horan no longer walked on this world.

And it was entirely my fault.

Taking another look at Niall, I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from bursting at the seams; to explode like a vicious volcano of angry lava, and thick magma surging through my veins like a winding, somber river. With a shaky hand, I reached forwards to gently caress Niall's cheek. Risdual warmth still radiated from him, and it made this last skin-to-skin contact extremely difficult.

"Tash."

A large hand gripped the back of my arm and tugged on it. Turning over my shoulder, I found Harry gazing right at me with sullen eyes. While he did not vocally instigate a conversation, I felt his silent words circulate all around me. That mute discourse he, Liam, and Niall always participated in whenever things needed to be said, but without my knowledge, seemed to unlock itself. I knew exactly what Harry expressed without ever having to hear his deep voice.

"Okay, yea. Time to go," I nodded my head, replying to Harry's unspoken statement.

There was a tiny glint in his forest green eyes, like a flicker of pride. He took a few steps backwards before spinning on his heel to meet Liam at the end of the open corridor. With tears welling up in my eyes, I looked back at Niall for one last time. I leaned down, placed a gentle kiss on his temple, and delved into the most wretched farewell.

The black Audi at the end of the parking lot, emitted a beeping resonance when I pressed the key's button. Harry took them away from me and immediately slid into the driver's seat of the sleek vehicle. Like reflex, I opened the backseat door but as I slipped inside, someone was already rested there.

"You're not going to sit in the front?" I questioned with a curious inflection to my tone. I cocked my head to the side as I gazed at Liam.

The tattooed martial arts expert sat with his focus latched forward. Not once did he look at me, nor did he even answer my question as I waited for some kind or response. However, his silence was a reply, but I wasn't so sure why Liam refused to speak. I closed the door and took the passenger seat next to Harry. Buckling myself in, I rested the side of my head on the glass window as Harry peeled away from the parking spot with precise movements.

"Where are we going?" I asked, keeping my gaze out the window as all of Paris passed by in blurry wisps of romanic light.

"Back to our hotel to grab our belongings. I'll set a ten minute alarm to keep us from lingering too long," Harry explained.

There was an inelastic concentration with bouts of exasperated emotion I couldn't quite read. The moonbeams mixed with the golden glow of the street lamps casted an illuminance upon Harry's face. The specific way in which the evening shadows glided across him, I noticed the crinkles in between his brows. It was the only indication of stress on him.

"Where should we go after retrieving our things?" I asked.

"Well we can't risk taking a train or plane out of Paris since Interpol will most likely be waiting for us," Harry deduced, taking a left turn. "I think we should drive the 23 kilometers to Versailles, then take the first train out to Toulouse."

"Sounds solid," I simply agreed. I turned in my seat to look at Liam. "Are you okay with this plan?"

Liam didn't respond. He just stared out the window with his lips sewed shut. I gave him a moment to collect himself and answer, but it seemed like he was in no mood to converse. I let him be, however Harry didn't think it was appropriate to cease communication.

"Payne, will you fucking speak up?" Harry peered through the rearview mirror for a quick moment before refocusing on the road. "Now is not the time to shut down. We've got to be on high fucking alert until we can get our asses somewhere safe."

"What do you want me to fucking say?" Liam retaliated. He officially blew up, slamming his hand against the back of my headrest, and I jumped upon impact. "Why are you so hell bent on me adding to this conversation, when this civil conversation should've happened ages ago."

"What the actual fuck are you talking about?" Harry questioned in annoyance.

"Niall died tonight," Liam spoke. "He fucking died. All he ever did was keep the morale high and keep Tasha safe. Your idiotic, mysterious predisposition and incapability to open up, even just a little bit, kept Tasha from ever learning to trust you, Harry."

"Excuse me?" Harry scoffed.

"You're refusing to talk to us because of that?" My contorted facial expression made it blatantly obvious of my puzzlement and annoyance.

"Yes, and because you, Tasha, have an insufferable amount of ego that it's actually suffocating!" Liam barked. I winced from his harsh tone and brutal testament, as he continued his tyranny. "For someone who considers themselves best friends with Niall, did you not learn a thing from him? Did his perpetual flicker of hope and positivity not shine bright enough for you?"

"I— wh-what—" I stammered, losing ability to logically express my emotions. "I appreciated him. So, so much."

"Did you?" Liam raised a brow and let out an unamused cackle. "Because it seems like his pep talks and energy haven't stuck with you at all. I get not trusting Harry because he refused to reveal his favorite color and what he likes to do on first dates, but fuck! Couldn't you give him a little faith in his prerogatives?"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, the words trickling at an incredibly low volume.

"Don't apologize to me... Niall's the one who won't get to graduate or take you to your fucking prom. So apologize to him," Liam concluded his unexpected rant with a bold statement that crushed my heart. He slouched further into his seat, while I turned around to cower in mind.

I didn't speak the the rest of the car ride back to the Shangri-La Hotel. We entered through one of the back entrances as oppose to the main lobby, but upon doing so, we were met with a streamline of absolute mellowness. The serene piano music filtering from the speakers blended together with the click clacks of our shoes against the marbled tiles. There were a few scattered people at ground level of the lobby, and no one waiting around in the corridor of luxury elevators.

This calmness of the hotel, I attributed to some higher power cutting us some slack. While there was a part of me that expected a horde of officers waiting for us to march into the lobby, there was also another chunk that hoped for a lack of chaos. The tranquility felt was a feeling I knew would not last, and I submerged myself in the pacifying ambience.

"Alarm is set," Harry waved the phone in his hand. "Ten minutes to grab everything and leave without a trace."

I simply nodded my head in compliance and snatched my bags off of the floor. The three of us ransacked through the extravagant hotel room as we stuffed our things into various backpacks and duffel bags. Walking out of the bathroom with a fresh pair of sweatpants and my blue dress in my hands, I rapidly folded the garment into a messy ball. The dress was the last thing placed into my knapsack, before zipping it up. As I did so, I caught Niall's guitar lying off to the side. Next to his instrument was the desk chair, and his burgundy flannel draped across the back.

Hesitantly, I reached for the casual piece of fabric, feeling the soft material in between my fingers. I opened up the flannel, and without another thought, I slipped my arms through it. My body drowned in the blanket-like apparel, and I hugged myself. Niall's signature scent wafted into my nose, enveloping me with a homey feeling.

"What are you doing with his stuff?" I blurted defensively, bolting my hand on top of Harry's as he gathered Niall's nicknacks atop the desk.

"Tash, breathe," Harry advised sternly. "We'll take most of his things with us, and when we can, we'll send it to his family."

"Oh," I muttered, a surprised inflection in my voice. I took my hand away and let Harry continue his endeavors.

When the ten minutes were up, we gathered our bags and headed out the door in a haste. Using the same back exit of the hotel, we filtered outside where the late evening atmosphere welcomed us like an old friend. I lead the two boys towards where our parked car sat, however after a few paces, I noticed that the sound of soles to asphalt did not follow me. I turned around, only to find Harry and Liam going in a different direction.

"The car is this way," I reminded, pointing over to a mass of parked vehicles.

"I know," Harry answered and continued his trek to wherever the hell he was headed.

I jogged after him and Liam, quickly catching up to the two quiet boys. I followed them through a dark, sketchy alleyway before they both ceased their steps in front of a massive metal dumpster.

"What's going on?" I asked, darting my eyes from the smelly trash bin to Harry. "What are we doing here?"

"There are a few things of Niall's we can't bring... including his guitar," Harry declared, and my facial expression dropped into smooth lines.

"Why not?" I spoke bitterly.

"It's too big and everything Niall has, needs to be able to fit into a bag," Harry swiftly explained. "I'm sorry, Tash, but that's the way it has to be."

"No, fuck that," I spat, hastily reaching for the guitar in Harry's hand. Before my fingers could even graze the instrument's neck, Harry immediately swung it away from me.

"Listen to me, we cannot be hauling extra things without an extra person to hold them. It'll only hold us back," Harry attempted to justify his actions, but it wasn't a good enough explanation for me.

"Give me his guitar, now," I demanded, take a long stride towards the curly-headed asshat and once again, attempting to snatch Niall's prized possession away from Harry's grimy hands.

That beautiful piece of sitka spruce wood with worn out 6 strings, was an enchanting instrument. Every curve of the guitar and every pluck of a steel string, all were anchored by a memory. And a particular one, was a very special moment I'd never forget.

My promposal.

It was the last happy memory I had with Niall. The last pure, whole moment where nothing but peace and light existed. I absolutely refused to let go of the physical representation of that sweet memory shared with that sweet boy. But even though tenacity coursed through my veins, that same vigor also synapsed within Harry too.

"Tash, walk away and let us dispose of Niall's things we cannot take," Harry's jaw rigidly tightened as he pointed towards the alleyway's opening. "It sucks now, but you know this is the right thing."

"Just because it's right, doesn't mean it has to be the thing to do," I seethed. "I already lost Niall, and I don't want to lose that guitar too. His soul is attached to it, and I won't let go."

"We all lost Niall," Liam suddenly pipped up. His eyes narrowed in on me with a snarl, before a small, cynical chuckle escaped his mouth.

My previous statement seemed to strike a nerve with him, and at first I didn't realize how offensive it was. I wasn't the only one who had to say goodbye to a friend— Liam and Harry did too.

"I'm sorry," I softly apologized, and without spitting out another word, I turned around.

I walked out of the alley and around the corner, not having the heart to watch the boys throw out Niall's possessions. In the end, Harry was right. This battle against ANTI, and this mission to save my family was not over. I was determined, more than ever, to demolish our enemies.

Liam was somewhat right too— I did have an insufferable amount of ego, but the part he was incorrect about, involved Niall's energy. His spirited frame of mind did stick with me, and will forevermore fasten onto my heart as I powered through this agonizing battle against ANTI.

Niall's flicker was everlasting.

◌ ◌ ◌

Tension rises and will continue to rise as the gang moves forward without their beloved Niall... still breaks my heart. :(

Hope everyone is doing well. I know I am, just counting down the days till summer break when I can sleep all day and go on adventures at night with my nonexistent adventurous friends lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading my story and I hope you all are enjoying the ride so far. We're about half way through with this book, as there will be about 40ish chapters.

Also, I wrote an article for THE FAN FAIR on the official Wattpad account, Fanfic. My editorial, that is very special to my heart, is called "How The 5SOS Fandom Taught Me About Girl Power." If you take the time to read the article, then you'll get a better understanding of why I created Tasha the way she is; why my heroines in my other stories are crafted the way they are. 

If you do check it out, please vote and leave a comment on it because I would appreciate it so much!