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The room was in a hazy, crimson glow of faded strobe lights and carefully lit neon sticks.
“Wow,” was all Zayn could muster when the music finally died down. And at least it was something more than nothing. That’s the most he’s ever said that night, other than the songs he performed oh so well. And even if he wanted to say a few more things, in the end he had just taken a sit in the stool right in the middle of the stage. They were meant to be sitting there after the final speeches for the last number of the night, but he can’t be damned because that’s exactly where he had to be and it was perfect.
And you’d know from their faces that they didn’t want it to end. They wanted anything, and everything, but for it to come to an end. Although you’d also see that at the end of the day, they didn’t have much of a choice. Because they can’t quit the minute the fame dies down, they can’t quit when management finally decides to let them go because they don’t sell as much now, they can’t quit after all the fans have turned their backs on them. Not that they’re thinking the people who have come to mean so much more than life itself would do that, because these five boys know the fans wouldn’t, but the fear is still tugging strings at the back of their minds. And with three out of five people in the band engaged, they’re not sure how much more the fandom can take before it all disappears like a moon in the midst of sunrise.
“It’s been a wonderful career, aye lads?” Niall asked in a mused tone, but really, it was more of an assurance than it was of a question. Obviously trying to sound happy and cheerful, being the bubbly person that he is, which is contradictory to what lies beneath him right then, to what he really was feeling. Because it had been a wonderful career, having sold more than one could earn in his entire lifetime, and having something to look back at just to say they’ve really succeeded. And Niall – Niall was supposed to say something else. He really was. And he tried. But the tears were trickling at the corner of both his eyes, and he wanted to break then and there, but he couldn’t. The fans deserved more than to see the boys they’ve adored for the past ten years cry. They deserved more for all the queues they’ve so patiently went in line for. Heck, they deserved more than a thank you. And Niall thinks they’d never paid them enough. Not with the love, not with the songs. They’d never be able to pay the fans enough, because they owe them everything.
And Liam was thinking the same thing.
“We don’t know what we ever did to deserve this – to deserve all of you, and these four guys here – but whatever it is; it must’ve been pretty good.” Not that it was a surprise to anyone. Because if there’s anyone who’d been very vocal about thanking everyone they were supposed to thank from the beginning, it was Liam. Maybe it comes with the title and all. And like Niall, he was supposed to add a few more words, probably just a few words of appreciation, and more appreciation, but he just took a deep breath. He did just so, and stared. Not stared as if there was something terribly wrong, but stared peacefully, as if they’ve actually done something – right. And that was it, he had sold himself. He couldn’t quite say more.
And that, that was Louis’ cue. He knew.
“I’m just thankful to everyone, really. We love you guys so, so much.” Louis’ words were comforting. They were softly spoken, and you could practically hear the grazing crowd wail because those were the words they were waiting for. They were waiting for the boys to say they loved them back. And that was enough. Every single cent spent had been paid. They were sure, they were very sure. And because it was so comforting, and soft, and loving it hurt. So, so much. And the fans weren’t the only one, because by then, Zayn was just blankly staring at nowhere, Niall had faced about the crowd rubbing something in his eyes he assured weren’t tears, and Liam – Liam was standing right there, adoring every single second left. And Louis – well, he took one deep, final breath before handing the rest of the stage to Harry.
Harry then started smiling like an idiot, and shaking his head. Disbelief, that’s what the other boys thought. And they were probably right. Because really, who would’ve thought four rats from all corners of England, and one all the way from Ireland, gets to live their dreams? It’s just surreal, really. Every bit of it is.
“Things,” he let out a shaky breath, about to give up holding back the tears any time soon. But until then, “Things like this don’t happen to boys like us. And – and I don’t care if I keep on repeating myself because we owe you guys so much. We owe you guys our lives.”
That did it. The crowd was literally howling now; moans of grief, and pain, and release, and just, love. They never really got what these boys had, how they made every girl in the nation fall in love with them. Because it took more than looks, it definitely took more than music. And it sometimes saddened them, because so many people took part in the beginning, and in the midst of the rise, and even before it all came to an end; but so little had stayed through the downs, through the tears, and through their darkest days. But they were the genuine ones. The ones who stayed even when Harry got engaged, or when Zayn had to go to rehab, or when Niall got in a car accident, or when Louis had a love child, or when some random psycho tried shooting Liam. Because maybe, that’s what being a fan is all about. And it’s not like the boys hadn’t been a humongous help when it came to problems. Because honestly, some of the girls are only—and still—living because of them. And it hurt knowing that that day had to be the end of it all. But maybe, after ten years, the boys have built enough trust – trust that these girls, the fans they’ve cherished and cared for, wouldn’t do anything they know wouldn’t benefit anyone who loved them, including the lads who – as they say – ruined their lives, but at the same time, fulfilled it. And that was enough to hold on to.
And with that, the intro of the song that started it all began playing. The lyrics that had been carved in the hearts of so many people were being sung, for the last time. And they were pretty sure, the silent cries of the crowd was what hurt the most. No matter how much they wanted to just lie there, to dread about a loss, a now increasing gap of longing to have them there longer – on stage, singing Torn – they couldn’t, because they so smartly chose to cherish the moment of hearing these five boys sing their hearts out together, even if it was their final curtain call.
It doesn’t honestly end there; it’s just a new beginning of a different path. Probably a better one – or not – no one will know, yet. But no one will forget this either, because this was where it all began. A bow and one tight group hug, they know, even for the final time, that everything will be just right.