Temporary

“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Riles,” Ella mutters, even as she sets her scuffed duffle bag down on the wet pavement. It’s a good day in London today; the sun’s just visible beyond the smog and the usually heavy rain has lightened to a drizzle. If Ella looks hard enough, she can see the Big Ben somewhere in the horizon.

The boy before her winks wickedly at her and reaches for her bag before she can. Ella throws him a look but says nothing. It’s a nice feeling to be taken care of, she’ll admit that.

“Bollocks. I already told you it was fine. Me an’ Niall are close as butt cheeks we are, and he told me we could spend spring break ‘ere. And weren’t you dying to interview a member of the great One Direction for that damn paper you write for?”

The girl flushes. Of course she has. Any good journalism major would be dying to interview a member of One Direction. They are the biggest thing since sliced bread in the entertainment scene anyway. But Riley’s comparison cuts a little too close to home.

I’m already dying. Why should I care whether I get a degree or not?

Riley sees the sudden fall in her expression and realizes.

“Christ Ella, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She waves his stuttering explanation away. “It’s fine. I didn’t take it like that anyways.”

He peers at her for a second before accepting her half-assed excuse and turns. Together, they soldier bravely towards the apartment complex that houses one of the biggest boy bands in the northern hemisphere. Ella isn’t sure, but she’s nervous. Sweating like a pig and all. Rubbing her palms across the front of her moist t-shirt, she follows the bright red of Riley’s shirt religiously until they come to a halt inside the brightly lit, heated (thank Jesus!) and well furnished lobby. The tension that she feels on her shoulders relaxes a tiny bit and she breathes in the warm air gratefully.

Riley’s speaking to the man – who Ella subtly suspects as gay because of the way he keeps flirting with the Irish brute before her – behind the desk. He’s gesturing, explaining who they are and that they are, indeed expected guests and not paparazzi style stalkers, of Niall Horan and his clan.

The explanation takes about ten minutes to no avail. Fluttery-eyed concierge refuses to let them into the elevator, or call Niall down to the lobby.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Ella mutters under her breath, careful not to let Riley see her chagrin.

He’s a big softie and she has no intention of frustrating him any further. She’s just about reached for the handle of her duffel – full of tripod stands and recording equipment – when the unmistakeable bleached blonde head catches her eye.

For a tiny, tiny moment, she’s awestruck, Ohmyfuckinggodit’sNiallfuckingHoran! but the cool journalist façade takes over and she’s in control again.

“Riles,” she calls, “it’s your cousin.”

Cousin, she still can’t believe it honestly. Her boyishly cute co-worker is related to One Direction’s Irish lad. Makes sense though. They do share the eyes and slightly dimpled chin. Riley’s got a few misshapen teeth as well. The only difference is that where Riley’s hair is a natural light, almost
daffodil blonde, Niall’s is not.

Riley turns at that exact moment to spot Niall making his way over to them. The lad’s dressed in three quarter khakis, a Red Sox t-shirt and slippers. Ella thinks that maybe this is what it’s like to be rich and famous. You can walk through a posh hotel lobby looking like a complete slob and no one will care. A cute slob, but a slob nonetheless.

Niall’s eyes flicker from Riley’s, to the concierge then finally to Ella. The moment their gazes meet,

Ella feels the tiniest echo of a stirring inside her. It reminds her of a bad stomach, only much pleasanter.

Her throat dries suddenly, and she’s thrown into that world where she’s been only once before – with Evan. It’s a world of dreams, of goals, of white picket fences, mowed front lawns and wee little tykes running around like they owned it. It’s a world of passion, and love and futures that she’s got no business thinking about anymore.

Reality shoves her soaring thoughts roughly back to the ground and Ella stumbles from the force of it.
Here she is, ogling after a momentary dream when the doctors’ have given her only – No, stop. Her fists clench and she breaks the electric optic connection she’s sharing with Niall to rebuke herself.

There will be no thoughts of death today. Not one.

Niall is there, in front of her and Ella is overcome with a sudden shyness. She’s gripped with a terrifying thought. What does he think of me? Ella looks discreetly at the clothes she’s got on – boyfriend jeans, a slightly oversized cotton shirt – and she blushes. Why hadn’t she worn something prettier, something sexier, something- Dear God almighty, stop!

She listens this time, to that internal monologue, and straightens. Turning to Niall, she beams a greeting up at him. He blinks a few times at her then shakes the hand she’s offered. Riley’s talking, sure he is – the polite gentleman that he is – but they don’t hear him. Is that what it’s like, when you fall in love? Do you lose your hearing and ability to think all in one go?

“Hey,” Niall says, still smiling.

He looks so cute when he smiles, Ella thinks unconsciously, but she replies with a ‘ello that sounds a little too forced and she’s left wondering if maybe she should just stop the interview right there and then and just walk away.

The last time she’d felt this way about someone had been Evan and heavens knew how much he’d hurt her. Shagging everything on legs behind her back like a dog on heat, stupid idiot.
But it’s just a stirring, and she’s overthinking this again and maybe she should just be as professional as she knows she has to be and finish the damn interview.

Their hands, the skin of their palms, tingle where they meet and she clears her throat to hide her small gasp. Niall withdraws his hand quickly and shoves it into the pockets of his shorts.
Riley finishes with the introduction and Niall says, “We can do the interview up in our apartment.”

Ella’s head bobs.

Riley grins, grabs their bags and follows Niall and Ella to the elevator. He’s still grinning when the elevator doors close on them, with Niall and Ella standing to his left and right.

This ought to get him a few scoring points with Ella, don’t it?