Chapter Three

Point of View: Niall James Horan

December 3, 2012.

"Best show EVER!" Harry shouts as he throws back the bottle in his hand, taking a large swig and collapsing on the couch of our tour bus.

"That crowd was absolutely massive," Liam adds. "I don't think I've ever seen that many people in one place." He sits down next to Harry.

"And they were so loud, oh my God," Louis slightly yells, rubbing his temples. "We're all probably talking really loudly, I can hardly hear a thing."

"I agree; definitely one of our best, boys," Zayn snatches the bottles from a protesting Harry, downing a sizable amount of it. "Did you guys see that blonde in the front that kept looking at me and smiling? Oh, man."

"Who, Niall?" We all laugh at Louis, and at Zayn's reaction. He always does this after a show. I smirk, shaking my head, and go to lie down on my bunk.

"Sorry, Zayn. I think Niall was looking at me," Liam shoots me a puppy dog face. I shrug.

"I can't deny it. His single kidney really turns me on," I wink at Liam, Zayn pretending to be hurt.

"I think it's because he looks like Justin Bieber!" Louis always knows exactly what to say to get everyone laughing. It's a special gift that he has that I haven't seen anywhere else. No matter what mood you're in, just hang out with Louis. You'll feel better.

Suddenly, we hear a familiar sound from outside the bus: the high-pitched squeals of dozens of screaming fans. And, as usual, the bus driver starts it up immediately and begins to roll out of the back parking lot of Madison Square Garden in New York City.

I crawl out from my bed and go to the back window of the bus. Knowing that the sight of me would make them follow us even longer, I hide underneath the window and peak out. About seven girls, all around the ages of 15 or 16, are sprinting as fast as they're physically capable of, but quickly falling behind. Just-purchased T-shirts are clutched in their hands, flying behind them. Purses are slung over the shoulders of the three girls remaining in the chase, left to hang on for dear life as their owners throw caution to the wind, following our bus onto a very busy street.

The speed limit has picked up to 45 miles per hour, but the girls are still trying. Liam kneels down next to me, watching them in awe. Even though they are far behind us by now, we still see a short, brunette girl in a striped shirt and red shorts almost trip and fall in the middle of the street. Liam and I both inhale quickly, then look at each other and exhale a sigh of relief when we see her catch herself. We look back out the window to see the three girls bent over, hands on knees, standing in the grass on the median in the middle of the road, fading quickly into specks in the distance. We watch until they become that small, then Liam turns to me again.

"Who would you do that for?" I look at him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, whose tour bus would you chase down, on foot, in the dark, and onto a busy street, just so… Well, I don't really know what those girls were trying to accomplish, and they probably don't know either, but, anyway – would you do that for anyone?"

I glance out the window again at the New York City skyline, thinking about his question. It was a pretty crazy thing to do. And for what?

"Honestly," I pause. "I don't think I would. For anyone." Liam nods. "A few years ago I might've said Justin Bieber, but now that I've seen it happen from this angle… I don't think I would."

Liam nods again, understandingly. We share a silence for a moment, but it isn't awkward. We've gotten so close that nothing's awkward anymore.

"I don't think I'll ever really realize how much our fans love us… or why they love us so much, for that matter," Liam looks at me, both of us still kneeling on the floor at the back of the bus. "One thing I do understand, though, is that that right there," he says, pointing at the window, "is love."

I nod slowly, trying to take it all in. Even after two years together, it still blows my mind when I see the things our fans do for us. We mean more to them than any of us will ever understand, and they mean more to us than they'll ever know.

"We're so lucky." I glance at Liam with a small smile.

"We sure are, Niall."

He pats me on the back, then stands up to go to his bed. I get up and follow him, climbing up to my bed on the top. I pull my phone out of my pocket, open Twitter, and type, "The audience at MSG was incredible! so much energy, our fans are the best in the world. nota doubt" I press the 'Tweet' button.

I'm about to set my phone down and pass out, when I decide to add, "but please be safe everyone, we arnt worth putting yourself in danger, so drink lotsa water and dont run in the street. love you all, night!"

My eyelids flutter shut, but I force them open again long enough to turn off the volume and screen on my phone. It's still in my hand when my arm falls to my bed, motionless. My eyes slowly close as my mind drifts away peacefully.