My Reason To Be (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 57: In the arms of an angel, fly away from here

HIII! SO SO HAPPY ABOUT ALL THE FEEDBACK OF LAST CHAPTER!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! THIS CHAPTER HERE WAS REALLY HARD TO WRITE AND TOOK A LOT OF TIME. PLEASE COMMENT BELOW BECAUSE THIS IS FAR DIFFERENT THAN ANYTHIGN I'VE EVER WRITTEN. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHY A FEW PAGES IN. I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT AND I REALLY DO NEED YOUR INPUT SO PLEASTE TWEET/COMMENT. I'LL TRY MY BEST TO RESOND :)

HERE WE GOOO

I keep my head down, glasses on, and purse hugged tightly to myself as I pass through the constant flashing lights and shouts of middle aged men who have nothing better to do than follow teenage celebrities. I follow Harry’s tall body, keeping my hand clutched tightly in his as he creates a path to his Rover which probably tipped the paps off to begin with. They’ve bloody memorized the license plate by now and everything.

“Alright, lads you got your pictures.” Harry says once we make it to the oversized car.

Two or so paps remain against my passenger door and Harry pushes them to the side as unaggressively as he can. I don’t know how he always remains so calm. Zayn would be having a shit fit right about now. Especially since they always tend to really overdo it whenever it comes to my brother. Little prats.

“Want to smile for the camera love?” One of them asks beside me and I scoff, turning the other way.

Unfortunately another one is at my other side and he easily flashes his Nikon right in my covered eyes. I gasp, bringing my hand up to shield my face.

“I’d appreciate it if you just keep the cameras on me, man.” Harry says firmly, running a hand through his distressed hair in frustration.

“Got it, boss.” The man says and takes consecutive shots.

After failed attempts of getting into the car I nearly lose it. “Sod off already, will you?!” I exclaim, finally pushing the man’s shoulder in irritation.

“Feisty are you, beautiful?” He chuckles and steps aside while still snapping pictures.

“Alright, enough!” Harry shouts with finality. “You got like seven hundred photos. At least one will get the spot in tomorrow’s tabloids.”

I don’t get into the car and instead watch his frustration while addressing them all. I hate that they never gave him a break. That everywhere he goes he’s hounded by them all, every minute of his public appearances recorded for all to see. What’s more frustrating is a simple walk in the park will land Harry in that week’s magazine while one of the other boys can get ass drunk and punch a baby and there will be one low quality picture on the internet. I know it got to him, but as always humble my twin brother chooses not to complain to not seem like he’s taking his life for granted. I just pray the pressure doesn’t become too much for him.

They somehow swarm away with his outburst and he pushes me into the passenger seat, shutting the door with more force than usual before walking over to his side. Once in, he huffs and runs his hands through his hair mussing it up even more. One hand on the gear shift with white knuckles, and the other on the wheel he turns the ignition on and slides out of the spot without so much as checking his blindspot.

I extend a hand and wrap my fingers around his on the gear. He turns to me with a soft smile and I smile back.

“Want me to beat them up?” I ask and he chuckles.

“No, tiny. I’ll be just fine.” He looks back at the road.

“I know you will, but I can still beat them up. Break their pointer fingers so they can’t press those buttons ever again.” I say with sneaky narrowed eyes. “We’ll call it an accident and move to Switzerland.”