Loved You First - DISCONTINUED DUE TO LOSS OF INTEREST
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Niall P.O.V.
I had a certain fascination with this boy. The way his soft, brown curls twirled as the gentle wind from the café door blew threw them, pushing them into his emerald eyes, every time somebody walked in or out. He lifts his hand up, brushing the strands away so they did not cloud his vision, frustratingly so they fell back into place. His muscles flexed under the golden tan colour of his skin, as he flipped the pages of the book he was previously engrossed in. I wished to be next to him, reading the sentences as he read them, experiencing the book just as he did our fingers accidently grazing as we both reached to turn the page; shy smiles shared and red blush growing across strong but delicate cheeks. This is the fantasy that I find myself constantly trapped in. Knowing that I will never have the chance to experience it for real, not again. The time that we had shared has long since pasted, but I remember the feelings we shared and the way I screwed everything up. He has become so perfect and sure, while I was now shy and distant. He has grown into a man who seems so sure of who he is, the way he holds himself, even sitting in the wooden café chair, he sits tall. The way he interacts with people, looking them right in the eye, as if to show them they have his full un wavering attention. His brown curls have been cut back some, pushed off his forehead so you can clearly see his face. His face has lost some of its roundness, now defining his cheekbones and chin. The years have been kind to him, but I would expect nothing else.
My fingers brushed against the strings of my guitar, as I sat on the small stage in the corner of the café, lost in the thought of him, singing a tune with a voice that has long been falling on deaf ears. Ears that would much rather be listening to their friends talk about their weekends, or their plans for the future. These people have no time to stop and listen to the soft voice that had somehow become rough and scratchy -even though over the years I had continued to use it- as it carried throughout the cramped space. They were too busy living what they thought was their lives to take a second to appreciate the small things. Always rushing to be somewhere new, never taking a second to stop. There was always something more important that they believed they should be doing. But there was one, the boy with the green eyes, eyes that I had watched dull even dimmer than they were when I used to see my reflection clearly in them. He came every other day, sitting at the same table – always facing away from me – ordering the same drink – coffee, black with hot milk on the side – each book he bought to read was never one from the best sellers list, but books that I knew held a deeper meaning for him, books that he could connect with, books about broken people because he was broken. I broke him. We are the same in that way now. I was always the broken one, broken by a boy who I should never have loved, but had continued to love because I was so sure of what we could be. Harry was the one, who had been there for me, but I had chosen to leave him, leave him and Liam because I knew that no matter how hard any of us worked on it, things would never be the same. And I couldn’t stay and watch as everything began to crumble around me again.
Three years have passed since I have spoken to any of the boys. We are now each just a memory in each other’s minds, a memory of people we knew when we were growing up. When we were finding ourselves. But did any of us actually find ourselves. I’ve been playing at this same café for two years now, after a year spent wandering the world with a certain kind of wanderlust trying to find something that held any importance, any purpose, but with no luck, my mind in a state of psychosis, not being able to tell the real from fake. I was constantly followed by a feeling of unrelenting despondency, a feeling that nothing would ever be right again, because I wasn’t with him. The boy who made me feel so alive, the boy who made me feel like things were actually possible. The boy who made me feel. The boy who I thought would do anything for me, do anything to be with me even after I left him. I thought I meant more to him than that, I held on to this thought for a year, wishing that he would find me. I knew that if anyone could find me Harry could. But after a year of waiting I was not met with the happy ending that I wanted, but with a magazine article that ripped my heart right out of my chest and made me believe that nothing was worth anything.
I was visiting Australia at the time, thankful that I could finally really see the country without being on a tight leash from the security guards. I wish like hell that I could forget that day, wish that I had never seen the article, but I remember it. I remember every single little detail of that day. I was in Sydney, walking by the shops that I have never before been able to go into. Lost in my own little world, thinking about the other boys, the only contact I had with them was seeing their faces littering the pages of magazines, not for One Direction, no that time of our lives was long over. The boys had branched off separately after I left; they told me there was no way they could continue, when they were no longer One Direction without me. Louis was now still in the music industry, but he had also gone after his life passion of becoming an actor and was now up with the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt and George Clooney. Liam moved to America with Zayn, they’re not a couple, they became a duet type thing, now collaborating with people like Bruno Mars. And Harry, the one person who I had thought cared about me had finally gone out on his own and started a solo career. But that isn’t what broke me; no I was broken by a certain article that travelled the world two years ago.
‘Harry Styles has shocked the world today with unexpected news of his marriage to short time actress girlfriend, Blair Attwood. The pair has been together for just 4 months, they met through a mutual friend at a music awards after party at the end of last year. Even though the pair has been inseparable ever since the dating rumours started to circulate, this marriage comes as a shock to both the fans and Harry’s family.
We spoke with Harry’s mother to get her thoughts on the topic.
“I was surprised when Harry came to me saying he was planning on proposing to Blair, he had a whole weekend planned. To say I was shocked is a very big understatement, but I saw that he was happy with her. I’ve seen Harry struggle through a lot this past year, with One Direction breaking up, and Harry loosing Niall [Horan] but when he’s with Blair he just looks so happy. And that’s all I want, I want my boy to be happy.” – Anne Cox
Perhaps the other most shocking thing about this news is the fact that Harry and Niall [Horan], ex band mates of One Direction, had come out saying that they were in a relationship. Our spies even found out that Niall and Harry were living together in a shared apartment in central London. The pair split in a mutual agreement, but Niall has yet to find his footing again in the music business ever since leaving the band.
So what does this mean for Harry? Is this marriage the new big thing, or is Harry just trying to hide from his broken heart?’
Even thinking about this now, two years later almost reduces me to tears. Even when he’s sitting right across the room from me, completely oblivious to my existence. I wonder if he actually knows it’s me, if he’s known all along but is un willing to say anything. I haven’t changed that much after all. But it’s been months since he’s started coming to this café, so maybe he has forgotten me, or maybe he hasn’t forgiven me for leaving him. Maybe I’ll never know. I looked down at my guitar, my voice carrying through the café once more as I sing a song that I had spent almost three years trying to perfect.
“I've been thinking lately about you and me, and all the questions left unanswered, how it all could be..”
My voice took on a tone of what it used to sound like, soft but sure.
“And I hope you know, you never left my head, and if I ever let you down, I'm sorry…”
As my voice carried across the tables, people seemed to actually be listening, but I only cared about one.
“I see you around here lately; you smile brighter than you should, and me I've been so lonely, I'm glad you're doing good…”
I lifted my head and stared hard at Harry’s back, willing him to turn. Willing him to know that this is for him. Everything has always been for him.
“And you know that you can take all of me, I swear I will be better than before, so sing it back…”
To my surprise he actually lifted his head from his book, started to slowly turn to me.
“I'm sorry for the things I've done, things I've done. I'm sorry for the man I was, and how I treated you.”
Still turning.
“I've been thinking lately about you and me, and all the questions left unanswered, how it all could be. And I hope you know, you never left my head, and if I ever let you down, I'm sorry.”
Finishing I stayed staring at him, and when he finally turned around to face me, his face was completely unreadable. He started at me through sad, dull eyes, they held no sign that they recognized me. I wanted to flee, after all this, he doesn’t even know who I am. It was all for nothing again. I bent down and packed my stuff away, ready to go home and wallow in my self-pity. I stood up and carried my guitar and backpack off the stage, walking out of the door.
I had made it halfway down the street, the cold London air biting at my exposed cheeks, before I heard footsteps running behind me. I moved to the left, getting out of the persons way so they did not bump into me. But as they got closer to me they slowed, then stopped. Curiosity got the better of me and I stopped cautiously turning around, knowing I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but knowing that I already had been from the moment I heard the footsteps running.I turned around fully, and took in the breathtaking view of Harry, out of breath and windswept hair standing in front of me on the side walk. After all these years I couldn’t even think of the words to say, I opened my mouth, but my voice caught. Harry looked at me, his eyes sparkling, he opened his mouth but only one word came out,
“Niall..?”
I had a certain fascination with this boy. The way his soft, brown curls twirled as the gentle wind from the café door blew threw them, pushing them into his emerald eyes, every time somebody walked in or out. He lifts his hand up, brushing the strands away so they did not cloud his vision, frustratingly so they fell back into place. His muscles flexed under the golden tan colour of his skin, as he flipped the pages of the book he was previously engrossed in. I wished to be next to him, reading the sentences as he read them, experiencing the book just as he did our fingers accidently grazing as we both reached to turn the page; shy smiles shared and red blush growing across strong but delicate cheeks. This is the fantasy that I find myself constantly trapped in. Knowing that I will never have the chance to experience it for real, not again. The time that we had shared has long since pasted, but I remember the feelings we shared and the way I screwed everything up. He has become so perfect and sure, while I was now shy and distant. He has grown into a man who seems so sure of who he is, the way he holds himself, even sitting in the wooden café chair, he sits tall. The way he interacts with people, looking them right in the eye, as if to show them they have his full un wavering attention. His brown curls have been cut back some, pushed off his forehead so you can clearly see his face. His face has lost some of its roundness, now defining his cheekbones and chin. The years have been kind to him, but I would expect nothing else.
My fingers brushed against the strings of my guitar, as I sat on the small stage in the corner of the café, lost in the thought of him, singing a tune with a voice that has long been falling on deaf ears. Ears that would much rather be listening to their friends talk about their weekends, or their plans for the future. These people have no time to stop and listen to the soft voice that had somehow become rough and scratchy -even though over the years I had continued to use it- as it carried throughout the cramped space. They were too busy living what they thought was their lives to take a second to appreciate the small things. Always rushing to be somewhere new, never taking a second to stop. There was always something more important that they believed they should be doing. But there was one, the boy with the green eyes, eyes that I had watched dull even dimmer than they were when I used to see my reflection clearly in them. He came every other day, sitting at the same table – always facing away from me – ordering the same drink – coffee, black with hot milk on the side – each book he bought to read was never one from the best sellers list, but books that I knew held a deeper meaning for him, books that he could connect with, books about broken people because he was broken. I broke him. We are the same in that way now. I was always the broken one, broken by a boy who I should never have loved, but had continued to love because I was so sure of what we could be. Harry was the one, who had been there for me, but I had chosen to leave him, leave him and Liam because I knew that no matter how hard any of us worked on it, things would never be the same. And I couldn’t stay and watch as everything began to crumble around me again.
Three years have passed since I have spoken to any of the boys. We are now each just a memory in each other’s minds, a memory of people we knew when we were growing up. When we were finding ourselves. But did any of us actually find ourselves. I’ve been playing at this same café for two years now, after a year spent wandering the world with a certain kind of wanderlust trying to find something that held any importance, any purpose, but with no luck, my mind in a state of psychosis, not being able to tell the real from fake. I was constantly followed by a feeling of unrelenting despondency, a feeling that nothing would ever be right again, because I wasn’t with him. The boy who made me feel so alive, the boy who made me feel like things were actually possible. The boy who made me feel. The boy who I thought would do anything for me, do anything to be with me even after I left him. I thought I meant more to him than that, I held on to this thought for a year, wishing that he would find me. I knew that if anyone could find me Harry could. But after a year of waiting I was not met with the happy ending that I wanted, but with a magazine article that ripped my heart right out of my chest and made me believe that nothing was worth anything.
I was visiting Australia at the time, thankful that I could finally really see the country without being on a tight leash from the security guards. I wish like hell that I could forget that day, wish that I had never seen the article, but I remember it. I remember every single little detail of that day. I was in Sydney, walking by the shops that I have never before been able to go into. Lost in my own little world, thinking about the other boys, the only contact I had with them was seeing their faces littering the pages of magazines, not for One Direction, no that time of our lives was long over. The boys had branched off separately after I left; they told me there was no way they could continue, when they were no longer One Direction without me. Louis was now still in the music industry, but he had also gone after his life passion of becoming an actor and was now up with the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt and George Clooney. Liam moved to America with Zayn, they’re not a couple, they became a duet type thing, now collaborating with people like Bruno Mars. And Harry, the one person who I had thought cared about me had finally gone out on his own and started a solo career. But that isn’t what broke me; no I was broken by a certain article that travelled the world two years ago.
‘Harry Styles has shocked the world today with unexpected news of his marriage to short time actress girlfriend, Blair Attwood. The pair has been together for just 4 months, they met through a mutual friend at a music awards after party at the end of last year. Even though the pair has been inseparable ever since the dating rumours started to circulate, this marriage comes as a shock to both the fans and Harry’s family.
We spoke with Harry’s mother to get her thoughts on the topic.
“I was surprised when Harry came to me saying he was planning on proposing to Blair, he had a whole weekend planned. To say I was shocked is a very big understatement, but I saw that he was happy with her. I’ve seen Harry struggle through a lot this past year, with One Direction breaking up, and Harry loosing Niall [Horan] but when he’s with Blair he just looks so happy. And that’s all I want, I want my boy to be happy.” – Anne Cox
Perhaps the other most shocking thing about this news is the fact that Harry and Niall [Horan], ex band mates of One Direction, had come out saying that they were in a relationship. Our spies even found out that Niall and Harry were living together in a shared apartment in central London. The pair split in a mutual agreement, but Niall has yet to find his footing again in the music business ever since leaving the band.
So what does this mean for Harry? Is this marriage the new big thing, or is Harry just trying to hide from his broken heart?’
Even thinking about this now, two years later almost reduces me to tears. Even when he’s sitting right across the room from me, completely oblivious to my existence. I wonder if he actually knows it’s me, if he’s known all along but is un willing to say anything. I haven’t changed that much after all. But it’s been months since he’s started coming to this café, so maybe he has forgotten me, or maybe he hasn’t forgiven me for leaving him. Maybe I’ll never know. I looked down at my guitar, my voice carrying through the café once more as I sing a song that I had spent almost three years trying to perfect.
“I've been thinking lately about you and me, and all the questions left unanswered, how it all could be..”
My voice took on a tone of what it used to sound like, soft but sure.
“And I hope you know, you never left my head, and if I ever let you down, I'm sorry…”
As my voice carried across the tables, people seemed to actually be listening, but I only cared about one.
“I see you around here lately; you smile brighter than you should, and me I've been so lonely, I'm glad you're doing good…”
I lifted my head and stared hard at Harry’s back, willing him to turn. Willing him to know that this is for him. Everything has always been for him.
“And you know that you can take all of me, I swear I will be better than before, so sing it back…”
To my surprise he actually lifted his head from his book, started to slowly turn to me.
“I'm sorry for the things I've done, things I've done. I'm sorry for the man I was, and how I treated you.”
Still turning.
“I've been thinking lately about you and me, and all the questions left unanswered, how it all could be. And I hope you know, you never left my head, and if I ever let you down, I'm sorry.”
Finishing I stayed staring at him, and when he finally turned around to face me, his face was completely unreadable. He started at me through sad, dull eyes, they held no sign that they recognized me. I wanted to flee, after all this, he doesn’t even know who I am. It was all for nothing again. I bent down and packed my stuff away, ready to go home and wallow in my self-pity. I stood up and carried my guitar and backpack off the stage, walking out of the door.
I had made it halfway down the street, the cold London air biting at my exposed cheeks, before I heard footsteps running behind me. I moved to the left, getting out of the persons way so they did not bump into me. But as they got closer to me they slowed, then stopped. Curiosity got the better of me and I stopped cautiously turning around, knowing I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but knowing that I already had been from the moment I heard the footsteps running.I turned around fully, and took in the breathtaking view of Harry, out of breath and windswept hair standing in front of me on the side walk. After all these years I couldn’t even think of the words to say, I opened my mouth, but my voice caught. Harry looked at me, his eyes sparkling, he opened his mouth but only one word came out,
“Niall..?”
Notes
I hope you guys enjoyed that. please vote and review telling me what you thought, even if you hated it, that way I can make the next parts better.The song I used is Sorry by Sleeping With Sirens, you should look it up. (:
You are very talented.
Keep going!!!!
4/22/15