The Right Direction (Zayn Malik)

When The Sun Goes Down

I don't know where I am, or how I got here, but I do know two things for sure.

1: I'm hungry.

2: I shouldn't have stormed out of the car.

I also knew that it had to be very late, because there wasn't a single person walking on the street, and the roads were almost vacant. I didn't know where we were going for desert, so that ruled out the option of walking to that location. I was screwed in so many ways.

A wave of hope coursed through me as I recognized another human being on the street. By instinct, I reached into my purse and pulled out mace, slipping it into my back pocket. You never know when this will come in handy. "Excuse me, sir?" I politely said, noticing that it was a male.

An older, smaller man looked up at me. He seemed to be jiggling a set of keys in his hands, trying to lock the door of the building we were standing in front of. "Yes, m'dear?" He said. I noted that he had a southern accent, and smile in response.

"Do you mind telling me what time it is?" I asked. He nodded, pulling out a Nokia from his pocket and examining the screen.

"12:02 P.M. to be exact."

"Thank you in adv-- WHAT! 12:02?" I half-cried out.

The man nodded, then frowned when he noticed my startled expression. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, hey-- do you know how to get to the Four Seasons Hotel?" I suddenly asked, remembering we were staying in a Penthouse on the top of that Hotel.

The man nodded, his smile returning once again. "Sure do." He said. "Ain't far from here, actually. Keep walking down the street, make three lefts, turn to your right, and you'll find it there in all it's glory. Can't miss it." He instructed.

I nodded, resisting the urge to pull him in for a hug. "Thank you so much, sir." I said, turning around to speed-walk. I stopped when I heard him call out.

"Wait! It's really late. I can give

you a ride, if you'd like, of course." He asked. Get into a car with a total stranger? He seemed nice, but it was always those kind you had to watch out for. Plus, I've seen one-too-many horror movies that have to do with hitch-hikers. No thanks, but I perfectly like where my head is positioned now.

I waved at him and grinned. "That's okay, you've already done enough. Thank you!"

"Anytime, darlin'." He smiled, returning back to whatever he was doing before I came along and interrupted him.

Part of me kind of thought that he'd given me instructions to an old house that was abandoned, which was why I was really happen when the hotel came into view. I guess there truly are some good people here in this world.

As I made my way closer toward the hotel, I recognized a familiar face pacing back and forth in front of the hotel. He balanced a cigarette in between his pointer and middle finger, while mumbling to himself in anger.

Zayn.

I sighed as I approached him. I guess I was going to have to face him sooner than later. He didn't realize that I was standing in front of him, so I took this as the time to think of something. I really didn't feeling like talking to him, but he seemed stressed out and tense.

"Y'know," I cleared my throat as I moved closer toward him, "smoking is bad for you."

At the sound of my voice, he stopped dead in his tracks. I watched in amusement as his eyes lit up when he realized it was me. "Scar!" He cried, closing what ever gap was once in between us. Scar? That's weird. Zayn's never called me 'Scar', before.