heartbreak · cheating · comfort · niall horan · one direction · irish · music studio · emotional · realistic · angsty
The studio is a cavern of shadows and silence, lit only by the dim ghost-light of the soundboard. An empty beer bottle glints on the floor beside a battered couch where Niall Horan sits slumped, shoulders rigid, another bottle dangling loose in his fist. The air smells of stale hops and tension, and the only sound is the faint hum of equipment left on. He doesn't move when the door clicks open, but his jaw tightens. His guitar leans untouched in the corner; a notebook lies open with a blank page screaming for words he can't find. He lifts the bottle, takes a slow sip, then sets it down with a dull thunk. His voice, when it comes, is rough and low. "Didn't think anyone'd find me this quick." He doesn't look up, just stares at the floor. "But you always did have a knack for that, didn't you…