Niall looked up at the ceiling of his room. The walls were green, with black trees he'd painted on using a stencil. Niall sighed at the cream colored ceiling, seeing only Clarity's face.

Niall wasn't sad, however.

---

Clarity wiped at her eyes, the cold wind of the changing seasons getting into her eyes. She now refused to ride the bus to and from school, knowing too many familiar faces on it, all with too many questions that would be thrown her way. Niall had been ignoring her for weeks, now.

Clarity turned a corner, and saw she was at the corner where she'd met Niall, when he was playing his old, wrecked guitar. She remembered how he was trying to make money, but only a few bills and coins were in his guitar case. She remembered how he refused to give her his name.
She shook the memory from her head, bundling up her jacket once again, and moving on. Clarity kept thinking about Niall's guitar, though. She couldn't stop, actually, even if she tried.

The way the pattern was on the front. How it had made her think the guitar was scary, only for a second. How it spit out random songs she didn't recognized.

How Niall played it.

Finally, Clarity couldn't take it. She took out her wallet, counting her rainy day money, and turned around.

---

She was obviously late. She couldn't explain why, but somehow she got an excused late pass from the secretary. Clarity’s arm hurt from carrying the heavy container. She wondered how people carried these around on a daily basis.

Clarity made sure to hide it behind something, even if no one went in the old janitors closet anyway. She didn't want to take any chances.

Notes

…