Let's Pretend [Niall Horan]

Chapter 8

-Harry-
••January 28, 2012••

I lightly knocked on the door, hoping for a reply but knowing I wouldn’t get one.  Niall hadn't stepped out of his room since that day.   How could Mrs. Gray have been so dreadfully cruel?  It was like she had no heart at all.  I honestly thought that Niall was broken when I saw him collapse as that awful woman left our house.  

One thing I didn't understand, though…  When Elizabeth called Zayn, Louis, and I into that hotel room years ago, she had told us that Faith's memory was gone, and that was why Niall could not know that Faith was alive.  Elizabeth hadn't mentioned anything about Faith hating Nialler…  And how on earth could she have known exactly when Zayn and I were about to finally tell him the truth?  I hoped that was a freaky coincidence, because if she somehow actually knew…  

I shook my head, trying to clear those thoughts away.  I balanced the plastic tray on my left hip, knocking on the door again.  I had never even met Faith, but she must have been a big part of Niall’s life for him to be cooped up in his room for the past three days over her…

“Niall, mate, I have food,” I said loudly, wondering what he was doing behind that thick bedroom door.  

He hadn't eaten in days.  How was he even surviving?  Maybe he was sneaking down into the kitchen at night, because I had never known Niall to go for more than a couple of hours without a snack.  I mean, Niall Horan was famous for eating.  Even the millions of fans he had knew that.  He was just so torn up about this whole Faith thing…

My mind flew back to when we were on tour a couple of years ago, stuck in a van for over eight hours as we drove from New York to Chicago.

Niall was famished – well, we all were, but Niall obviously was way hungrier than any of us.  It was odd to see Niall not scarfing something down.  

I sighed with hunger, waiting for the next stop at a gas station.  Then Louis took a cereal bar out of his rucksack, which was the only food that we had seen in hours.  Instead of eating it, though, Louis gave it to Niall.  None of us complained; it was just the most logical thing to do.

There was a rustling noise behind the door, snapping me out of the memory that had flashed through my brain in a split second.  I took a step back as the doorknob turned – and there appeared my little Irish lad.  

His facial expression was worn out, and he looked as pale as if he had seen a ghost and was frightened half to death.  But that wasn’t what bothered me.  His eyes were the scary part.  They weren’t his normal bright blue, but instead they were dull and filled with misery.

“Hi.” Niall's voice cracked.

“Brought you food.” I extended the tray out towards the blonde boy, who obviously needed it. 

He nodded, opening the door wider and pulling me inside.  He pushed the door closed, making sure he clicked the lock shut.  

I set the tray, which was filled with crackers, slices of apples and other random things I could find in the kitchen, on Niall's bed and walked over to the window.  I pushed the heavy curtains aside so the sun would brighten up the gloomy room.

Niall had quickly plopped down on the messy, dark bedspread and stuffed himself with food that he hasn’t eaten for – well, it was probably a new record for him.  I sat down on the bed beside him, crunching on a cracker or two as Niall steadily devoured the food.  It was good to finally be with him after his three-day seclusion.