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way. Louis orders himself one more beer, figuring Niall is going to

have to spend some time with his adoring fanbase before he makes his

way back to Louis, but he‟s only a few sips in when he feels a hand

clap on his shoulder and turns to see the man himself behind him,

covered in sweat. People are staring, clearly recognizing Niall but

apparently too intimidated—by Niall, of all people—to come say hello.

Louis is friends with a damn celebrity.

“Niall Horan, you little shit,” Louis says, smiling for what feels like the

first time in ages, and he pulls Niall into a crushing hug.

“What‟d you think of the show, man?” Niall says, returning the

embrace before pulling back. He takes his hat off and runs a hand

through his hair. He looks almost nervous, which is hilarious given the

circumstances.

461

“Are you kidding me? It was fucking phenomenal,” Louis tells him.

“Why didn‟t you ever tell us that you‟re a fucking celebrity?”

“Knew you‟d be jealous,” he says with a shit-eating grin. “Nah, man, I

dunno. I started doing it secretly just to see if I could, y‟know? And

then when it blew up it seemed like too much to explain. And it kinda

made me feel like a superhero.”

“Oh my God, you‟ve got a secret identity,” Louis says. “Zayn is gonna

be so jealous.”

Niall just laughs. “I figured when it was time to reveal myself, it‟d be

obvious. And it was! So now I can make you bastards come to all of

my shows and support me like proper friends.”

“You know we would‟ve if we‟d known,” Louis says, momentarily

serious.

“Yeah, I know,” Niall says, and then jumps on Louis‟ back like a spider

monkey.

Louis tries to tell Niall to stay at the club with his adoring public, that

he could get a taxi home, but Niall was insistent on heading home. Now

they‟re blasting some pop station, occasionally singing along with Niall

drumming on the steering wheel. It feels nice, feels easy and young.

Louis isn‟t stupid enough to ignore the fact that there‟s anxiety and

dread and hurt creeping around the edges of his mind, won‟t pretend for

a second that they won‟t resurface later, but right now he feels okay.

It‟s nice that he can still feel that way, even just momentarily.

“Niall,” he says, lolling his head back against the seat. He‟d only had a

few drinks, but it‟s enough to have him just a little more pliant than

normal. “You said you‟d know when the time was right to tell us about

this whole thing. This whole Craic business.”

“Yeah?” Niall says, guiding the car around a roundabout.

462

“Why was tonight the right time?” Louis asks.

Niall pauses for a moment, his brow furrowed under the brim of his hat.

“You know I didn‟t start out wanting to be an orchestra director, right?”

he says finally, and Louis is a little tipsy but he‟s not drunk enough to

be this confused by conversation.

“Okay?” Louis prompts. “I mean, I didn‟t really know but I could have

guessed.”

Niall nods. “I wanted to be a musician. Like, full-time. Wanted to be

famous, wanted to write songs, wanted to tour the world. Still kind of

do, actually, but it‟s not that easy, is it? I tried a little bit during

university, played a couple of gigs, put together a couple of bands, but

it never worked out.”

Louis nods. “Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “Us creative types, right? So I got this job right out

of uni, and it wasn‟t what I‟d imagined doing, but it was a good job and

I made friends and it makes me happy, so who am I to complain? But I

still missed making music. Missed performing in front of people. So I

figured out a way to do it anyway.”

“What, you just picked up a turntable and started booking gigs?” Louis

says. Honestly, knowing Niall, it wouldn‟t even be that surprising.

“Nah,” Niall says, scrunching up his nose as they pull up to a red light.

“Was at a pub, pretty fucking pissed, too, and their DJ didn‟t show. I

lied and told them I was a DJ, they were desperate, and from then on

I‟ve just kept on going.”

“That‟s brilliant,” Louis laughs, and it is. “You committed disc jockey

identity fraud and became a legend.”

463

“Something like that,” Niall grins. “But you wanted to know why I told

you about it tonight.” Louis nods. “I always wanted to be a musician.

And I kind of am, now. I get to do gigs and make people happy and I

get a lot of free drinks. It‟s brilliant. And just because it isn‟t the way I

thought I‟d be living my dream doesn‟t mean it isn‟t worth doing.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Louis says, though there are

some dots he can connect for himself.

“I‟m trying to tell you that you‟ve got to do something for yourself

sometimes, man.” Niall pulls up to Louis‟ block of flats and turns to

look at Louis seriously once he‟s put the car in park. “If something

makes you happy, then you should do it any way you can. Even if it

takes you somewhere kinda weird, it‟s better to be happy and weird

than sad and normal, yeah? And if you‟re happy, other people will like

what you‟re doing.”

Louis looks at him consideringly in the yellow light of the nighttime

street. “You and your unexpected depths, Horan,” he says. “You spring

them on me when I‟m least ready.”

“Not my fault you forget about them,” Niall says, sticking out his

tongue. “All right, get out of my car, cranky, we‟re going up to yours.”

“„We‟?” Louis says questioningly as he gets out of the passenger side.

He should have known better than to think this night was over yet.

When they get up to his flat, though, Niall doesn‟t have any plans for

further debauchery. Instead, he just tells Louis to change into

pajamas—and requests a pair for himself—and sets up shop on the

sofa, flicking through the television channels until he finds a James

Bond marathon, then turns the volume down so it‟s just a low murmur.

“Niall, if it‟s all the same, I think I‟ll just go to bed,” Louis says, once

they‟re both wearing flannel trousers.

464

“No,” Niall says, pulling Louis down onto the sofa by the arm. “You‟re

still sad. I‟m going to cuddle you until you‟re not sad anymore.” Niall

gets like this sometimes when he‟s drunk, all affection and warm

hands. He‟s not drunk right now, actually, didn‟t touch a drop all night,

but Louis knows that post-performance high as well as anyone, knows

how it gets you buzzing.

“This is a flagrant violation of my personal space,” Louis huffs as if

personal space is a thing he‟s ever cared about, but he allows himself to

be climbed upon nevertheless. Niall paws at him like a puppy until he

seems satisfied that he‟s made himself a comfortable spot to curl up on,

and then he nuzzles his face into Louis‟ chest.

“Don‟t be sad, Louis,” Niall says. “I love you.”

“You are not like any straight boy I have ever met,” Louis says, patting

Niall on top of his blonde head.

“Who said I was a straight boy?” Niall argues half-heartedly. He

squeezes Louis around the middle, like he‟s trying to physically force

some of his happiness to be transferred to Louis by osmosis. “What

about all those times with Zayn, then?”

“A, you were drunk all of those times,” Louis says. “And b, Zayn

doesn‟t count, love. Nobody‟s that straight.”

“All right, all right,” Niall says. “Just shut up and go to sleep.”

“Really?” Louis says. He gestures weakly to the sofa around them.

“Right here?”

“Yep,” Niall says. “Not letting you sleep alone tonight.”

465

“Okay,” Louis says, flooded with a hesitant warmth but pulling a spare

blanket off the top of the sofa anyway. “Good night, Niall,” he says,

pulling the blanket over them both.

“G‟night,” Niall says, muffled with his face squished against Louis. It

was, Louis thinks as the soft sounds of Goldfinger lull them to sleep. It

was a good night. The first one in a while.

He can tell Niall‟s already asleep by the soft sound of snoring muffled

against his chest, but sleep doesn‟t come as fast for Louis. He‟s still

thinking about what Niall said earlier about how he needs to do

something for himself sometime, and what exactly that means.

Louis has never really given much thought to whether or not he does

things for himself. He always assumed he was sort of selfish,

considering how much of his time and energy for most of the recent

years of his life has been spent protecting himself. Keeping himself

safe. But when he really thinks about it, really looks at it properly, it‟s

true that he never really does much that‟s just for him. He‟s been so

busy protecting himself that he‟s forgotten how to take care of himself.

He‟d forgotten there was a difference.

Maybe Niall is right. Maybe that‟s what it‟s going to take to finally

crawl out of this. He‟s not sure anything will get him over Harry at this

point, as much as it hurts to admit it, but this wouldn‟t be about getting

over Harry. It would be about getting out of this rut he‟s been stuck in,

not just since Harry left but for years. It‟d be about finally feeling good

again. He can barely remember what that‟s like, but he‟d like to. Maybe

he could.

He thinks, as he starts to drift off, that maybe he could try. He has to try

something, because he can‟t keep living like this. Maybe it‟s time to try

something new.

466

The weekend before Harry left, he came „round to Zayn‟s flat to return

a few odd things of Zayn‟s he‟d accumulated—a scarf left in Harry‟s

car, a borrowed t-shirt, that sort of thing. He ended up staying for a few

hours, telling Zayn about his internship, which is at some kind of

fashion photography studio that takes the kind of weird pictures Zayn

used to rip out of magazines and put up on his wall when he was in uni.

When he left, he gave Zayn a business card for the studio, and Zayn

hugged him hard and promised to call and to come visit him in the city

one day. He passed the business card on to Louis once Harry was gone,

and he watched helplessly as Louis chucked it into the bin.

Anyway, Zayn‟s kept in touch with Harry since he left. It‟s not like

they talk every day, because Harry‟s busy settling into his new life and

Zayn‟s busy settling into Liam, and even when they do talk Harry‟s

more withdrawn than he ever was, but Zayn makes a point to at least

text him every couple of days. Typically his hermit tendencies keep

him from bothering to keep in touch with anyone, but he‟s always made

exceptions for people he loves, and he does love Harry. Just because he

and Louis couldn‟t work things out doesn‟t mean Zayn‟s going to stop

being friends with him.

He mentioned it to Louis once, only once, just a careful “talked to

Harry today” slipped into the conversation, and Louis brushed it off as

if he hadn‟t said anything at all. Since then, Zayn has let it be. Louis