Fan Fiction - Picture Perfect Chapter Twenty Two
“Elle, is this you?” Amberley asked putting her phone in my face.
I looked at the headline and the photo following. Zayn and I hand in hand in London. I knew nothing good ever lasts.
“Has One Direction’s Zayn Malik found a girl?” I read word for word off the screen.
The room fell silent. The only sound heard was the loud ticking of an ancient clock and the pendulum swinging side to side. I stared at the page in my hands as if the words were going to come to life if I looked hard enough but in reality all I wanted is the words to go.
“There’s a full article, press read more,” Amberley suggested squinting at the small smartphone screen.
I picked up my index finger and firmly pressed the link to the article. As the page loaded I felt my stomach churn a familiar feeling of the night before my coming here. Everyone was farewelling me before my early hour flight, giving my advice as if they themselves had been to London to study before; but none of their advice could set me for this.
‘Explore everything and go everywhere.’ If the hospital was on anyone’s list I had surely met that but nowhere else had I seen.
‘Impress them, just be yourself.’ I was nothing of myself here, I always had to try harder, look better and be nicer but I got nothing in return.
‘Don’t fall in love with no rock stars.’ Coming from my mum this never made sense. I used to tell myself that I would not meet a rock star nor fall in love with one and I thought I hadn’t. I certainly did not now, but had a star fallen for me?
The page loaded and an enlargement of the photo was displayed with the caption of ‘The couple were found running in the rain after exiting the police station.’ I cringed.
“Read it,” Tash asked. Tash never asked for me to do anything for her and I tried to do the same but this demand was the harshest of all. I failed to let my eyes meet the screen let alone read words recounting lies and soon to be prosperous tales of me and Zayn. I began to read in the softest voice I could. If no one could hear; no one would know.
“One Direction member Zayn Malik, 19, was found sprinting in the rain of London earlier this morning with a girl by his side. The two were spotted exiting the police station hand in hand speedily making their way to what we know as Zayn’s London apartment. The girl by him is unknown to this point but sources say she also had entered the police station with him only under an hour before. We currently do not know why the pair were at the police station and we can only confirm that the Zayn has not suffered any criminal or legal action of any type, however has his girl gotten into trouble?” I recited, cringing after almost every word.
We all exhaled into silence once more, staring at our feet trying to find something suitable to say. I didn’t blame Tash and Amberley for feeling so overwhelmed. I am positive she didn’t sign up to tour me around the school then be dragged into the mess of my chaotic life. And Amberley couldn’t find a hug in the world to soothe the heat bottling up in my chest. I felt horrible and sick.
“Err…,” Tash stumbled, “what were you doing at the police station?”
I couldn’t possibly tell them what only happened several hours ago. I bit my tongue mentally flicking through a series of lies and back up tales I could say to cover up the mess but as I stared into their honestly concerned eyes I had given in.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say as I ran out through the door staring at the ground.
I took long strides until I found myself at door 8 and began profusely knocking at the door with my fists. As my knocking became harder and louder I started to reconsider why I had even stormed to this door. It was like second nature, I’d always turn to Zayn. And after, I’d hate myself for doing so. There was no one or nothing to blame things on; at the end it always was my fault.
Zayn swung the door open and held his hand cuffed to my mouth, “I know, just hush.”
He pulled me in and showed me another article on his Mac. He sighed in frustration and ran his long fingers through his hair. I bit my lip.
“All we can- ”
“This is disastrous. This will ruin everything. There’s nothing we can do, the whole of the UK thinks we’re going out and I’m some rebellious criminal. You have no idea how this is going to look on my study. This can ruin my scholarship. I’m done for. And then maybe somehow they know why we even went to the station and the press will think I’m some sort of mentally abused depressed girl and you’re using me as a charity case. OH, and I won’t be able to leave the house because there will be 800mm lenses in my face everywhere I go and you’re immature fans will drive me up the wall with their ‘hate’ telling me to back off when I’m not even-”
I was suddenly hushed by a rush of warmth hitting my cold lips. The gentle lingering touch slid across my bottom lip hesitating to come forward. His fingers found his way to my face plotting smooth cursive lines as his lips beckoned forward for more. His vacant hand trailed down my back running along the deep crevices of my bones tickling me in an almost seductive way. Both his hands were now at my waist as he passionately asked for more with his lips but without his tongue. I slung my arms on either side of his neck nodding slowing and swaying back and forth. I took my fingers and ran them through his hair then slowly backing letting my thumbs dance along his jawline before releasing.
It was perfect. So perfect I wanted more even though I never wanted him.
I came to realise what real trouble this was. I thought I could get out of this but now matters just got worse. Maybe we could’ve pulled the ‘just friends’ act, but with that kiss we couldn’t hide the fact we were both blushing.
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like that,” Zayn said regretting his actions.
“What? A dick?” I scolded.
“I mean it!” he barked back.
“I think I mean it more than anything. I want this to end. To stop. I want this drama to be done and over,” I contended.
“It’s not like I like this at all.”
“How about it, huh? The press and paps want us to break under the pressure here. They want to do this.”
“I can’t find a reason why.”
“This is life Zayn and quite frankly I’m hating it.”
I held the weeping tone in my voice from dramatically exposing and curled my lips in to a thin straight line. Too much already had happened and crying now was only going to make Zayn feel worse and more guilty than he already did.
“I have to go,” I said concealing the fact I most definitely wanted to stay.
“No,” Zayn almost demanded.
“Excuse me?” I asked shocked at his paternal outburst.
“You’re not going anywhere. Not until we end this, just like you want.”
“Since when do you care about what I want?”
“Since this has become about us not only you.”
“Are you trying to say you’ve only now cared about anything in my concern?”
“No- that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what is it you mean?”
His eyes met the ground as he struggled to find words to explain the mess in his head and what I could see as the throbbing pain from his temples. He rubbed his forehead impatiently sighing before he looked up and stared back at me. His deep brown eyes pin-pointed my pupils following every small twitch they made. I grew fed up with this acts of empathy trying to win my frail heart.
“What is it you mean?” I asked again, “Why have you even tried with me? What do you actually want? What is it?”
“What I really meant is…,” Zayn trailed off again as I slowly ran out of patience.
“What I mean was…,” he tried to reinforce again staging the moment, making my blood boil in rage.
“WHAT?” I burst in anger, frustration and half relief.
“What I meant was I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” he finally revealed, “I LOVE YOU OKAY? HAPPY?”
Strangely enough like when someone bows down on one knew and asks you to marry them and you say no; I was not happy and nothing was okay.