The Prince [Zayn Malik]

The Job

*Drew*

"She's gone, love." Dad said.

"Where is she?" I asked in confusion.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "She isn't coming back, though. It's just you and me."

"I-I want my mum." I stuttered, tears blurring my vision.

"She isn't here. She isn't coming back." He repeated what he said earlier.

"When w-will she come h-home?" I cried.

"Never!" He yelled before stomping out of the house and slamming the door behind him. I burst into tears. I just want my mum.

"Drew!" A voice yelled. It kept calling my name. I was shaking with fear. I shut my eyes tightly and opened them again, only to discover that I wasn't in my home.

I was in Zayn's bedroom. He was shaking me, in an attempt to wake me up. My face was wet from the tears that fell down it.

"What the hell was that?" He asked in a panic.

"Just a dream." I mumbled. "Just a dream." I repeated, trying to assure myself. But that scene wasn't made up in my head. It was completely real. That's exactly what happened when my mother left us. My dad got angry and went out to the bar. He did that almost every night.

"It didn't seem like it." He replied skeptically.

"Have you ever had a dream that seems so real that you feel like it's actually happening to you?" I asked.

"Yeah, I have." He nodded.

"What was it like?"

He sighed. "I remember walking alone in a desert. I was just walking in a straight line for what felt like forever. I didn't look beside nor behind me. I faced forward and kept walking. Then I started seeing people in front of me. They were throwing stones at me. I didn't even acknowledge the pain. Slowly, there were more and more people throwing stones. I still didn't notice any pain." He paused and ran his hands through his hair.

"That's it?" I questioned.

He shook his head. "I kept on walking while they kept on throwing rocks at me. Suddenly, I noticed somebody beside me. They were several feet to my right. I couldn't make out a face, or even the gender. I just knew that it was a person. They didn't throw the stones at me, but instead threw them at the other person. The other person wasn't like me. They could feel the pain. We kept walking, and the gap between us closed. Once we were side by side with only inches between us, I started feeling the pain too. I felt the stones being thrown, even though they weren't hitting me."

"That's weird." I mumbled. His dream was nothing like mine.

"That's not the end." He told me. "I looked at the person beside me one more time. I felt like I was having a heart attack or something. I could finally see their face clearly, and it was you."

"Me?" I questioned.

"You." He nodded. "Do you make any sense of that dream?"

"Not really. I haven't had any rocks thrown at me." I shrugged.

"I think I understand it. Want me to explain what I interpreted?" Zayn asked. I nodded. "Well, all my life, I've been hated. Hardly anybody has truly loved or even liked me. I've been insulted and ridiculed and hated for years. I never cared for it. I never let it get to me. I ignored it, just like I did when the rocks were thrown at me in my dream. Then you came along. They started hitting you with the stones, and as we came closer, your pain brought me pain. Do you understand what I'm saying?"