Laying in the hotel bed is strange for me. I lay there, bathing in the heat that the sun is providing for me through the large window on the broad side of the building, without a thought in my head about anything of any sort of importance, because I really have nothing important to think about anymore. I honestly cannot think of the last time I had lain in a hotel bed and had nothing to do. Rather, I can’t remember the last time I had lain in any bed without thinking of everything that I had to do later that day or the next. Even when we had small breaks, I was constantly moving around in order to make time to see everyone in the family. But not anymore, I get to have nearly two years of nothing but fun times with my family and old friends back home. Not only do I have no commitments today, but I also don't have any tomorrow, or the day after that, or any of the days after that, for nearly two years.
One of the first things that we had known when we came up with the idea of taking a break was that the fans would be disappointed, and they were, majorly. But what they couldn't understand is that we simply had no breaks for nearly five years, and we’ve explained this in so many interviews that it’s almost nauseating to say anymore. We did the X-Factor tour, recorded an album, did another tour, album, tour, album, tour, album, tour while recording an album. Not to mention so many other things that we've done, interviews, events, award shows. We never stopped for one moment. And it truly was beautiful, and some of the best times of all of our lives, Zayn included, but the time came that we needed to break, at least for a small while.
My phone alarm went off, signifying that I have an event in one hour. My eyes widen when I see the time: six o'clock. Had I really lain in bed for nearly seven hours? Part of me, and by that I really mean most of me, has no desire to actually go to their release party. I remind myself, though, that I have two years to do nothing, and we had promised to try to make an appearance. I'm in LA still, so I should really go. Instead of immediately getting up and readying myself, I check my twitter, answering some fans back who have tweeted at me, and post a "thank you" to our fans. Some people say that it's all I ever post on twitter, but One Direction fans truly are the best fans in the world, and I will say this until the end of time. Many of them have been here since the beginning of our adventure, and so many have joined along the way. It's incredible how many fans we have and mostly how much support we've always gotten from them.
I finally drag myself to the hotel shower, thanking god that the water pressure here is awesome, and wash myself completely. I dress in a simple button down shirt and some tight jeans, leaving my hair un-styled, but blow dried slightly, because it's my personal favorite way to wear my hair, and, honestly, I'm not really up for impressing everyone tonight. Being one of the most famous people on the planet is seriously stressful- all eyes are always on me. And, sometimes, I really wish they weren't.
Luckily, most of the hot spots in LA are all pretty close to one another, so finding my way to the venue isn't very hard at all, but it does take me several minutes of driving to be used to driving myself around, but this rental car is very different from the one I own back in London.
"Name, please." The bouncer says when I step up to enter the party.
"Niall Horan," I say, in a light voice. Unfortunately, so many fans of Fifth Harmony are gathered around the place, that my ears hurt from the screaming. Normally when I'm in a place this crowded, I have ear plugs in, but right now I'm natural Niall, all the way. Apparently, the girls are doing some random drawing thing where a few lucky fans get to come in and mingle with the celebrities that are here tonight, which is something that the lads and I had always wished that we could do at our release parties. Unfortunately, we had to even stop bringing girls up on stage for the amount of hatred that they got from other fans, which seemed to be the only negative thing about our fandom.
"Right this way," he says as he opens the door to let me in.
Instantly, my eyes have to adjust. While it was beginning to get dark outside, the inside of the venue is extremely brightly lit, with both colored and white lights shining in my eyes, coming from nearly every direction. "Niall!" I hear a high voice shout, and notice the figure walking toward me to be Camila, from the girl group.
"Hey, Cam," I exclaim, embracing her in a hug. She begins to explain where everything is at, as though she's the guide here. We catch up for a little while, with me congratulating her on their album release, until she notices someone else that she wants to see and says, “See you around!” to me.
I thank her for the mini tour, and, true to Niall Horan form, head immediately for the food tables. After all, I really hadn't eaten anything all day. I talk to some of the caterers, making small talk while they provide me with their food. I eat some delicious chicken and greens, but what really strikes me as noticeable is the giant cake and cupcake stand at the end of the row of food tables. Clearly, whoever designed this had in mind that dessert would come last for most people, with the ice cream cart being right beside the cake table. But, what really makes the cake table stand out is the beautiful decoration. While I'm truthfully not that into art, and often times don't have an appreciation for things of this sort, spending a lot more time with Harry recently has made me into a more informed person, seeing as Harry is a major art collector, and he truthfully really understands it and likes to share the beauty of each piece he buys.
I make my way toward the table, where the cake is currently being cut, starting from the side facing away from the guests, I notice, and begin to look through the various cupcakes, all decorated in flowers whose colors match the bright lights that my eyes have finally gotten used to seeing.
"Hello," a chipper lady, whose name tag reads Sallia, with a noticeable accent says to me. "Is there a certain flavor you'd like? We have eight different ones. But the cake is entirely chocolate." She's a middle aged woman, who I'm assuming is in charge for tonight, if not, overall of the entire cake making business.
"Do you have red velvet?" I ask, smiling politely at her. She directs me toward the section with red velvet cakes, where a boy and girl around my age stand. I look at the different colors of frosting, trying to decide which one I want.
"They all taste the same," the girl says, her voice bland. However, she's very pretty, I notice when I look at her face, closer than when I first noticed her. Her hair is long, even pulled up in the ponytail she's currently sporting.
"Be nice, sweetheart," the boy, who is clearly the older woman's son, says to her.
She rolls her eyes, and smiles, but so slightly that I almost can't tell if it actually happens, at me. "He acts like he's my boyfriend." I can hear a clear annoyance in her voice, saying that she doesn’t like to be treated this way by him.
"Yeah? I thought he was," I say truthfully to her. But only because he had called her sweetheart. "Though, you shouldn't seem so bored. It's kind of rude." As I say this, I can tell she knows that I'm kidding with her by the coy smile that she gives me, even though my voice sounds as though I mean otherwise. The thing about people like her, is that they understand literally any form of joking.
"Still, they all taste the same," she says, noticing that I still haven't picked up a cupcake. "All the same frosting. But, I wouldn't recommend the blue unless you want to have a stained mouth for the rest of the evening. That probably doesn’t make you too hot to the ladies."
"What's your name?" I ask her, while chuckling, noticing no name tag on her, like at the other tables. Even the boy, whose I didn’t look closely enough at to catch a name, and Sallia have name tags.
"Billie," she says, dryly, as I have already noticed is her style of speak. But, I kind of like it.