Niall's POV: "Unforgettable together, held the whole world in our hands / Unexplainable, a love that only we could understand, yeah"

"We need this," I tell myself.

We need this.

We need this.

We need this.

We need this. We need this. We need this.

Weneedthis. Weneedthis. Weneedthis.

Weneedthisweneedthisweneedthis.

I repeat it like a chant. It's my mantra. The only thing that helps me hold my resolve while me and my best mates are crying our eyes out in Harry's flat.

We don't want this, but we need it.

In our hearts, we know that, and that's why Louis's so mad. Because we know we can't fix it no matter how much we want to.

I look around at these boys. I've practically grown up with them. We saw each other through our gawky teenage years into young adulthood, from nobodies on the streets of the UK to the biggest boyband in the world. And I can't wrap my head around how we did it, but we bloody did, didn't we? In a way, it's been so good that we're all afraid it'll never happen again.

I know I am.

I can't go back to Mullingar. I've seen too much of the world, tasted too much fame, fell in love with too many songs. I can't be happy there in the same way I was before all this. But how can I do this without my boyos? A stage is so big for one person. But I have to try, don't I? I said it myself that I won't be happy sitting at home for more than a month or so.

Blimey, I wish this was easier.

I wish Harry would tell a bad joke to make us laugh.

I wish Louis would mock him for it.

I wish Liam would try to keep a stiff upper lip and fail and start laughing anyway.

I don't regret one part of this. Well, except maybe my audition song. It was pretty awful. But I don't regret not making it as a solo act. I don't regret the band not winning. I don't regret the long months on the tour bus or the whirlwind traveling or the one-album-per-year quota or the hundreds of hours of sleep I lost or not going to uni or not being able to walk out into the street without being bombarded. I'm a kid from a tiny house in Ireland. No one should know me. And yet...

I can't sit here anymore. The room is too quiet, and my thoughts are too loud, and I can feel the walls getting closer. I need to get up.

So I do.

And I clap Liam on the shoulder, and I ruffle Harry's hair. Normally, he hates it, but he looks up at me with an almost-smile, and I try to mirror the look in my own eyes. It's hard to smile right now. But we're doing our best.

And then I walk over to Louis. "Walk" is a strong word, since he's only about two paces away, sitting on the loveseat with his arms crossed like a little kid in timeout. Granted, I bet we all look like little kids right now, blubbering and pouting.

And I sit beside him.

He doesn't look my way, but I didn't expect him to.

Without saying anything, I lean over and put my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm around him like I've done so many times before. Louis, who always has a goofy grin on his face and a joke up his sleeve. He's always good for a laugh or drink or a spot of advice. He's like a brother to me, and it's killing me to see him so broken. I drag my arm across my face to wipe my nose. I can almost see how absurd I look.

And, against all reason, I laugh.

I laugh and I laugh and I laugh, and it's borderline insane before Louis raises an eyebrow and addresses me.

"Something funny, Nialler?" he asks. His voice is cold, and his body is stiff, but using my nickname means that he doesn't hate me.

"Just us," I reply, having finally caught my breath. "We look a right mess, I reckon, sitting here boo-hooing like all our grandmums just died."

"You seem to be taking this hi—hiatus well," Louis says in the same cold tone, only choking a little on the word "hiatus."

"C'mon, Louis, you know I of everyone didn't want this to end. What, and go back to Ireland all alone with a literal channel separating us? Or worse, the States, where there's a bloody ocean keeping us apart?"

"Mate, you'll never be alone. We'll always have your back, and—" Louis stopped, and I swear his mouth almost twitched into a smile. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Right-o, Tommo!" I grin, now fully embracing the smile that's been daring to break through for several minutes. "You know bloody well that this is eating at all of us. I mean, look at us, for Christ's sake! But it's because we care that we have to do this. It's scaring me, shitless, to be honest, but I'd rather keep my three best friends and lose the band than keep churning out albums and lose my brothers."

Louis does smile now, and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"We've got too much history to let it all come crashing down," Liam says from behind. "We've been on top of the world for five years now."

"That's a long way down," I mutter mostly to myself. And then I look around. Harry hasn't said a word in ages, his mane of curls hiding his face from the rest of us. I'm not totally sure that he's not still crying. Liam has his jaw clenched and hasn't bothered to wipe the tear streaks from his face. And Louis, well, Louis is looking between the three of us like one of us has a way out of this mess.

We definitely deserve a better ending. I know that much.

"I guess we just can't let this be the end, then," I think to myself before throwing my other arm around Louis and engulfing him in a proper hug.

I'm not sure who needed it more.