Tangerine

Chapter 43

Soundtrack: The Clash - Rock the Casbah

Dedication: nina (@timidblues) i'm digging your feedback, it's different from most and i like that :) i'm really looking forward to hearing more from you, thanks so much love x

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"Excellent show tonight, Scarlet," one of the lighting guys passes me, giving me a spirited high five.

"Thanks to you, Tom," I grin softly, watching him walk along with a woman I don't recognise. "Have a good one, yeah?"

"'Course!" he yells back at me. "Open bar!"

I laugh to myself, taking a laboured sip from my beer bottle.

The boy's team has rented a beach house in Miami for the next day or so, overlooking a prime spot along the beach. The backyard patio is full of people. It still continues to be packed in as assorted crew members finish their shifts; tearing the massive set down and packing up all the equipment back at the Florida arena.

Everyone here is either part of the entertainment or the crew. It's a giant party to kind of kick off the start of the American tour, considering we all have a day off tomorrow. Literally. The only thing anyone is doing tomorrow is driving to Kentucky. Well, sleeping while driving to Kentucky sounds more like it.

Harry and I have dropped the drink-for-drink rule just for tonight since I do plan to smoke. Harry is bound to have a couple of extra drinks in place of that anyway, so it kind of works out for us.

"I like those earrings, Scar," Zayn walks up to me amid the large group of people. He's got a red cup in one hand and is wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off his canvas of countless intricate tattoos. "Are those real diamonds?"

"Yeah, how about yours?" I ask, noticing his earrings look quite similar to mine.

"Yeah, wanna try them on?" he offers. I can tell he's already smoked from the blissed out smile he's so casually wearing.

"Sure," I chuckle, fitting my bottle of beer between my knees so I can remove my earrings with two hands.

"We'll trade them back at the end of the night, yeah?" he hands me his as I hand him mine.

"Sounds good, Zayn," I fit both of his earrings in my ears as he locks mine in his own ears.

Then he's weaving through the party.

And then he's out of sight.

I'm left with what I can only figure is a humoured expression, retrieving my beer bottle from between my legs to take another swig.

It's a new feeling, to trade earrings with someone. It's so personal. Like the first time someone says your name. Or the first time someone calls you their friend. It's a good feeling, no matter what it is. Especially with someone as magnificent as Zayn.

Sometimes I wonder what pulled me in with Louis. Harry, too. I mean, each of the boys are lovely in their own way and I just imagine sometimes what would've happened if any of the other lads were to have made a move on me first, if it hadn't been Louis. I think about that now and again, although I'm sure that the tattooed, grungy style that Harry and Louis possess is more my type, regardless.

I guess.

I've been thinking a lot about that.

And although I hate to admit it, I've also been thinking a lot about tattooed, open shirt Harry. Just as he is now, wandering the backyard party among a cadence of remaining light of the setting sun and the glowing light of the rising moon.