Throw It All Away [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 2: Understanding

Hello everyone! I hope you're all having a lovely December! 

Currently, I am sick. That's the first thing I should say, and it's part of why I didn't update sooner, but this is still under a week at least. So... that's good. 

Also, this chapter is rather short, so I'm sorry for that, but it just ended up being written that way. :| Thank you all for the huge amount of support on the last chapter though, it means a lot!

Over on the right is a banner made for me by @HeyItsUsername, who also gets this chapter dedication, thanks again very much! :) I'll always be looking for nice banners guys, so continue to make me some! I think they're wonderful!

So thank you for reading! Also, Wattpad has deleted my latest one shot O.O so I hope it doesn't do the same to this chapter! Just let me know if it does, please! And leave a comment and/or vote as usual, thank you all my lovely Kayanators! (Name coined by @parachute) :) 

Dana 

            “Goodness Dana, how long have you been back on the streets? You look absolutely filthy, I’m going to hav-“

            Mum jabbers on in the car, talking about how sickly I look and how poorly I must’ve been treated. 

            Though I disagree with a lot of what she says, I don’t really respond. That’s half because I’m not listening, and half because I’m just too tired to really say anything.

            I think I must look a frightful mess, my face feels grimy and in my peripheral vision I can see my wild hair sticking in every direction. Actually, I know I look a frightful mess, considering Mum refuses to stop ranting on about it. 

            Mum. 

            The word still sounds so foreign on my tongue, in my head. After she left us, Dad no longer referred to her as “Mum”, not even “your mum.” It was just “Jane,” and soon enough, Ben and I began to refer to her in the same way, though it was minimal.

            I know she’d be happier if I call her Mum though, so I’m trying to mentally get used to it before saying so. I know the first time I said it, just back in Marcel’s bakery, it sounded fake, even to me.

            I want it to sound real, and badly too. Maybe then I can put this all behind me. Though I know if I manage to at all, and it’ll take a while, it’s better than nothing.

            “You had no one! My oh my, I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve felt. Well don’t worry, because I’m here, and I won’t let you be alone ever again!” 

            Internally, I frown a bit at that. 

            I hope she doesn’t mean that literally, because in all truth, I’m a private and solitary person, if I can help it. I enjoy the company of others just as much as the next person, but I think it’s important to be alone too. 

            Like Emma would tell me, it’s important to have alone time to think. To reminisce and remember.

            Don’t go back down that road, I tell myself, shaking my head slightly. 

            That’s the last thing I need to do. I’ve barely been away from my old lives for half an hour, and I’m already thinking about it. 

            “My fashion career has really taken off,” Mum says, grinning widely as she drives. “I’ve got my own business now.”