1D IMAGINES! *open*

Can you tell by the cover? ITS ANOTHER 1D IMAGINE STORY!!!!!!!


29. For Aria

For Aria

I squeezed my fingers together as John (AN: Made up, idk if there is a John in management), One Direction’s head manager, shook his head at me.  “I’m sorry, Aria, but this has to be done.  It’s our rule that at least two members of the band are single, and Niall and Harry are the most popular.”

“But why do I have to do this?” I whispered. “Why don’t you make Liam stop seeing Sophia, or something?”

“Because Liam is not as popular as Niall.” John sighed. “I’m sorry, Aria, but you have to break up with him.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked.

“If you don’t…” John leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his coppery eyes. “We will make his life horrible. We have his life in the palm of our hand—that’s what happened when he signed the contract with Modest! You don’t want to ruin his career, do you?”


“And think of your own life.  Do you really want all the hate that comes with being Niall Horan’s girlfriend?” John laughed. “You're not that strong, Aria.”

“I’ll break it off.” I said softly. “Just don’t hurt Niall.” I swallowed. “This is all he ever wanted to do…please. Don’t ruin it for him.”

“Well, now, Miss Carson (AN: You didn’t tell me your last name, so I made up one. :) ).” John leaned forward, so our faces were almost touching. “That’s not my decision, is it?”


I slowly opened the door to our flat, and closed it.  “Hey, babe!” Niall called cheerfully from the kitchen. “I made dinner for us—well, actually, I ordered takeout, but I picked it up, and I put the dressing on the salad—does that count?” He walked into the living room, and stopped short when he saw me. “Princess, what’s wrong?” He said, tossing the towel he held onto the couch and hurrying to my side. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” He led me to the couch. “Here, sit down, and I’ll get you a glass of water.” He got up, but I grabbed his arm.

“Niall…” I swallowed hard. “We need to talk.”

“Um, okay…” He sat back down again. “What about?” I bit my lip, and a flash of fear goes through his eyes.

“We need to talk about…us.” Niall inhaled sharply.

“W-W-Well, I think we’re doing aw-right.” He said, forcing a chuckle. “I mean, I love you, you love me, you know--?”

“Niall, I can’t do this anymore.” I blurted out. “I can’t take the hate, and the stupid girls shrieking in my face, and all the crowds…I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry, but I think that we should end this.” Niall paled, and I choked back a sob, looking down at my fingers. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, then got up and walked to the door.

“Did it mean anything?” He asked in a raw voice. I turned.


“When you said you loved me. Were you telling the truth, or did you just say it because I said it?” Niall stood. “Did you ever really love me at all?”

“Oh, Niall…” I breathed. “Yes…but—“

“But what? You just decided that you didn’t love me anymore? You just randomly decided that we meant nothing? That the spark that we felt when we kissed or held hands or touched each other in any way was just a-a-a fluke? A misguiding of fate or something?” In one long stride, he was right in front of me. I stepped back, only to bump a wall.


“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.” He said softly.  I slowly met his gaze, and opened my mouth to speak, then dropped my eyes.

“I don’t love you.”

“Look into my eyes.” Niall commanded, his Irish accent getting thicker with anger. He took my chin in his hand and lifted so I had to look at him.  “Say it,” He whispered. “Say it, Aria.”

“I can’t…” I said. “Please, Niall, just let me go.”

“No.” He raised his other hand, and cupped my cheeks. “I love you, Aria. I love you. I will never let you go. Never, do you understand me?”

“You have to…They’ll hurt you, Niall.” I pushed him away. “Please… don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“Who’s gonna hurt me? The fans? Management?” His jaw suddenly stiffened. “John. He put you up to this, didn’t he?”


“Aria, they cant touch me! What are they going to do—take my phone away?  Break my guitar? Kick me out of One Direction?”

“I don’t wanna risk anything!”

“Maybe I do!” Niall yelled.

“We’re over, Niall.” I cried. “We’re over!” I turned and opened the door, then sprinted to my car, jumped in, and squealed down the street.  And that was the last time I saw Niall Horan.

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