C'est La Vie

HIM: Niall James Horan. Irish. Boyband member. My best friend. The guy I am hopelessly in love with. All rolled up into one.
ME: Maxime Adelina Mercer. American, but of French descent (cue to my name, in case you couldn’t tell). Personal trainer/physical therapist for previously mentioned boyband. Eternally friendzoned.

Will Niall ever see me as more than just a friend? Or is this just the life I'm destined to live? Being friendzoned by the boy who means more than the world to me.

Find out more in "C'est La Vie"


4. Vulnerability.


"Oh, hey Niall." Louis said cheerfully. I snapped my head up to face my best friend and I could feel my face pale almost instantly. 





"Max why did he say you were in love with someone?" Niall asked coldly, directing his attention to me and ignoring Louis' greeting.

Holy shit his eyes were boring into my soul. Seriously, if looks could kill I would not still be here being the awkward turtle that I am. His usually bright and cheerful blue-green eyes were now dark, and hard. He was obviously mad about what he had overheard, but there was also a hint of...sadness? Disappointment?

Nah, that can't be it.

Can it?

...Naw, no way.

"I, uh, erm..." I started looking around the room and rocking back and forth from my sitting position on the floor just to avoid Niall's intense stare. As I risked a glance back at him though I saw that it was not working at all. Niall was still looking at me with this deep gaze, and since I was sitting on the ground his height allowed him to tower over me. I don't think I'd ever seen him look so...


And sexy.

And erogenous.

And appealing.



Wait who am I kidding? I'm always horny these days.

"Max. Max. MAX!"

"Sorry what?" I snapped out of my sexual fantasy over Niall (wait wasn't I just fantasizing over Louis like, five minutes ago?) and looked back up at Niall.

Niall looked at me like I was an idiot. I don't blame him though, I mean I think I was actually drooling a little bit. It's not my fault though, Irish had to go and look so damn fuckable in his gym shorts and tank top, with his snapback turned around backwards and his hair down from its quiff.


Fuck me please.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on? You like Zayn? I'd think that since we're supposed to be best friends, you'd let me know if you had feelings for someone, especially one of my mates. I mean, I'm correct in my thinking right? I tell you everything after all, I'd kind of like the favor returned every once in a while. Or are we not really friends at all?"


Oh hell no.

Max don't take no shit, lemme tell ya. I don't care if I am in love with you. 

He's never spoken to me that way! To suggest that I don't care about him just because I didn't tell him about liking someone? That's crazy!

Not to mention that the 'someone' is actually him, but he doesn't know that.

Oh Irony, you cruel son of a bitch.

"Niall what the fuck?" I said, raising my voice as I scrambled to stand up and face my best friend. "Since when do I have to tell you every single detail of my life?" I walked closer to him and poked him in the chest, finally provoking an expression from him other than anger, which he had no right to have in the first place. "Yeah Niall, we're best friends, but I'm allowed to keep some things to myself! But you know what, if it means that much to you, fine!" I threw my hands up in the air exasperatedly and took some steps back away from him. "I like someone! And no, it's not Zayn as Louis assumed." I shot a pointed look at Louis who flushed red before turning his head to the floor. As I snapped my attention back to Niall, he jumped a little bit at the look on my face, which was full of anger and frustration. "There! I said it! I like someone! But you know what Niall, it doesn't matter, because he doesn't like me back, and he never will! I'm pining away for someone even though it's futile, and no matter how hard I try I can't fall out of love with him! So consider yourself informed of the situation Irish. Are you happy now?" My voice was hysterical at this point.

As I finished my rant, I realized there were tears running down my face and quickly turned my back to the boys and wiped them away. 

I don't cry.


Well, except for when I'm yelling at the boy I'm in love with about the fact that I'm in love with him and how it's tearing me apart little by little and he doesn't realize it's actually him I'm talking about.

I cry over that.

With my back still turned, an awkward and tense silence fell over the room.

"Max. I-I didn't mean to make you upset I just felt like--"

"No." I cut Niall off by turning around and holding up my hand. "Just stop. Don't try to apologize now Niall, it's too late. You had no right to jump to conclusions and to assume that I didn't care about you just because I didn't tell you one little detail in my life. Maybe I didn't want anyone to know, did you ever consider that?"

Niall looked down at his feet and scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. I know him well enough to know that his cheeks were probably beet red.

Louis was still being really quiet. Which was worrying me a bit.

"You know what? I'm leaving." I finally said. The boys both looked up at me as I grabbed my jacket from a chair and started making my way towards the door, being sure to push past Niall in the process.

Just as I shoved his shoulder with my own, Niall reached behind him and grabbed my wrist, spinning me around to face him.

"Max please, I--"

I interrupted him with my fast and fluent French, which always happened when I got upset.

"Non il est trop tard pour vous faire des excuses tout arrêter!" I ripped my arm away from Niall, not even bothering to backtrack my French slip up. 

He looked at me pleadingly, but it was too late. 

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." I spat out, flinging the door open with as much force as I could muster and storming off to the elevators. 

As I stalked across the lobby, I could feel people's eyes on me, the girl in workout clothes with tears streaming down her face, but I didn't care.

For as long as we have been friends, Niall has never seen my vulnerable side. And sure, I may come across as this kickass girl who takes every obstacle with a smile on her face, cracking jokes, and finding the bright side in every situation, but on the inside, it really does hurt me. 

It hurts me to know that my parents don't care about where I am.

It hurts me that my friends don't call or text anymore.

It hurts me that I haven't had the time to play the sport I love in months.

It hurts me that some of the boys' fans lash out at me for being so close to them.

It hurts me that everyone expects me to be happy-go-lucky all the time.

And as I sank down in the empty elevator with my back against the wall, I realized what hurts the most:

That I'm in love with my best friend and he will never love me back.

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