Nobody Compares

When Addison Selley's family is killed in a car crash, she's forced to live with her new guardian until she turns eighteen- her cousin Harry Styles. Yes, that Harry Styles.
However, a distraction arises in the form of a blonde Irishman.
Right. There's just one foreseen problem. And that problem is Niall Horan.

*WARNING* coarse language, sexual scenes, violence. :)


13. step on a lego piece



I got up early, just before seven. I even had time to go for a shower and get dressed in jeans and a lace top, throwing a coat over it and pulling a scarf around my neck. It was cold out. I was rummaging around in my luggage, trying to think of where I'd put my shoes when I abruptly remembered last night. I had to sigh about it, because there wasn't much else I could do. I was still holding the hotel brawl against him. He deserved nothing else.

I crept outside barefoot, noticing him curled up on the couch in a tiny little ball, blanket drawn up to his chin and his blonde hair poking out. OK, maybe locking him out of his own bedroom was a little bit cruel. He still deserved it. I noticed a pair of white converse at the door. I'd thrown out the pair he'd scribbled his name all over, so I'd just take these instead. I leant down and started to lace them up when I noticed something. On the sole. I cursed involuntarily loudly as I realised he'd taken the effort to scrawl his name on this pair as well.

Well fuck that. I stormed out of the apartment to go get breakfast. I hoped he stepped on a Lego piece or something.


I stood in the line for Starbucks when I felt something smack into my head. I whipped around, searching for the source when suddenly I was blind, someone's hands over my eyes.

"Guess whooo!" yodelled a familiar voice.

"Sawyer?" I shrieked happily, squirming before throwing my arms unceremoniously around him. He took his hands off my eyes and grinned down at me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Didn't you invite me?" he reminded, pulling away and fixing my hair. "I thought it'd be nice, just a weekend away to enjoy London. Go out and party, get smashed, what do you say?"

"I say that sounds like the best thing I've heard in a while," I replied. I squinted at him, taking him in slowly. "Have you grown or something?"

"Nope," he chortled, "You've probably been spending too much time around short guys." I thought of the boys and snorted. Maybe.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked, confused. He shrugged, messing up his hair with one hand.

"I didn't," he admitted honestly, "I just came here to get a morning coffee, and I thought I could smell a skank." I wrinkled up my nose and batted at his arm. We ordered our drinks and took a table near the window.

"So, how have you been?" I inquired, sipping my hot chocolate. "Things back home alright?"

"Same old," he shrugged, "Oh you won't guess who got pregnant!"

"Who? Was it Katie? Who got her knocked up?"

"Nah, not Katie," he answered, leaning in to whisper it in my ear. His breath tickled my skin and I squirmed, giggling. "What?"

"Nothing, tell me," I said, poking him.


"What, Victoria? No!" I cried in shock, leaning back and staring at him as he nodded impressively. "Who the hell would wanna bang her?" He laughed.

"You'll be surprised, ever since you left, the town's been searching for a new free fuck," he said lightly, taking a deep gulp out of his espresso. I never knew how he could drink those every day. "What about you then, and your hunkalicious boyfriend? Getting an heavy action there?" I flinched and forced myself to drink instead. He stared at me, gauging my reaction. "Oh? Trouble in paradise?"

"Sure, you could say that," I said, tracing my finger across the table top. "If there was any paradise to begin with."

"What?" I groaned and let my head fall onto the table.

"I can't stand him," I mumbled and he leant closer to hear me. "He's such a dickhead, and we can't spend two seconds together without starting a fight." I looked up from my arms at Sawyer, who was frowning at me.

"What happened to your cheek?" he asked, taking my face in his hand before I could protest. He frowned, moving my head from side to side carefully. I thought all signs of my welted cheek had disappeared by now. "It's a little puffier than usual. Are you getting work done?" I sniggered, pulling out of his grasp easily. He didn't break a smile. Suddenly, realisation began to wash over his face. "No...he hit you?" I squirmed uncomfortably on my seat, avoiding the question and sipping again. "Addo?"

My head snapped towards him and I scowled. He knew I hated it when he called me that.

"Did he?"

"We both did," I sighed, looking out the window. "We were in the hotel room on tour and we just started yelling and fighting, and he was drunk and I was sick, and I threw a bottle at his head and he pushed me into an alcohol all just went very bad."  Sawyer was staring at me in shock and reproach.

"Do the others know?" I nodded. "What did they do about it?" I snorted and dug my fingernails into the table.

"Well, now I've moved in with him."

"You've what?" he gasped, leaning even closer. "You're living with this guy now? Are they crazy?"

"Yep," I muttered under my breath, taking another sip. "We almost fought last night too."

"But you didn't?" He raised an eyebrow at me. I stared at him for a moment, as if the answer lay in his cheekbones. I shifted again and shook my head insistently.

"Never mind."

"There's something else," he assumed immediately. I couldn't help but be exasperated. "Isn't there, Addo?"

"There's nothing else."

"Tell me!" he howled in an injured voice, flinging his cardboard coffee holder at me. "Come on!"


"Fine, I'm just going to guess until you're readable facial expressions give it away," he replied, leaning closer so he could make full eye contact. "Are you pregnant? You're pregnant with Niall's child, you're carrying the baby of your torturer and arch nemesis? You're a lesbian? Your cousin is a lesbian? Oh I know, you're getting your boobs done! What about squeezing past security guards at the club? That's gonna be harder now. Oh my god, I don't know Addo, just tell me!"

"Stop calling me that," I sniped back, staring at my cup fixatedly. "It's not a big deal."

"Then why won't you tell me?" he demanded.

"Because...I don't even know what it is." He glared at me for a full minute, before he spoke again.

"You like this guy." I spat half of my drink back into my cup and gagged.

"I'm sorry?" I gasped, wiping my mouth.

"You like him, don't you? Niall," he said, nodding slowly.

"Did you not just hear what I told you? That he's an abusive dickhead who sat on my chest and tried to squeeze the life out of me?" I demanded shrilly.

"That's not an answer," pointed out Sawyer haughtily, sipping his espresso with his pinkie sticking out.

"Yes! It is!" I barked, "And no! I don't! I hate his little freaking guts, and I want to kick him in the face every time he smirks at me and I wish I'd never slept with him in the first place and those stupid fucking eyes stare at me like all the fucking time!" Sawyer was too busy laughing at me to offer up condolences.

"You do," he scorned, "Like him. I don't get why exactly, but I expect there's a perfectly logical explanation behind it. Like his fame, or money. Or his sexual prowess."

"I don't!" I whined, kicking my foot up and resting it on his leg. "Look what the fucker did to my shoe! Now I have to walk everywhere with his name on my foot."

"Oh Addo," he sighed, brushing my foot off of him. "Then why the hell did you not refuse to pretend to be his girlfriend in the first place?"

"I never knew it was going to be this bad."

"How long have you spent with them?"

"The boys? About a month," I answered.

"So why did the outburst only come a couple of days ago, judging by your cheek?" he asked suspiciously. I couldn't even think of a proper answer for a few moments.

"I don't know, I guess I let him steam roll over me for the majority of it," I shrugged. "I didn't want there to be a big fight or confrontation you know? Looking back, that was probably wise." I rubbed my cheek woefully, staring out the window. I sat up abruptly in my chair. "Who's that?"

"Who's who?" asked Sawyer non-chalantly, moving his head so he could see clearer out the window.

Click. A photographer.




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