stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 4

Zayn

She said no. She said no to all of my offers and now I am sitting here feeling like a fucking idiot. She'll probably never want to talk to me again. I sounded so fucking desperate. Pathetic.

I need to talk to Harry. He's only staying through my birthday. He has a life back in England to get back to, and I need to take advantage of having my best friend here.

"You've got it bad for someone."

He guessed it the second he walked in my dressing room.

"How'd you-"

"Come on. I haven't seen you act this out of it since the seventh grade. Emily Schuler. What city is she?"

"S'not a city... well, I mean, she sort of is but, she's more than a city."

"Wow." Harry grins, his dimples dent his cheeks and he looks genuinely happy for me. If I had been telling this to someone who made money off of me they would have spinning their wheels trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

Rock stars with girlfriends don't sell as many dreams. You need to be the eligible type that people can dream up futures with. Girlfriends are bad for the heartthrob business.

"Well, tell me about her! Show me a picture!"

I frown. I don't have a picture of her. I'd deleted my private Instagram last month when a girl in a city told a friend about it and I got inundated with - literally - one million follow requests.

I'd been so angry, but not because I ever posted anything on there. I'd been angry because that's where I followed Charlotte's escapades when I wasn't in California.

I have had it bad for her much longer than I realized.

"Don't have one. But she's beautiful, Harry. Like, drop dead proper gorgeous. But s'not just about that..." I look down and can't help the stupid smile that spreads across my face. "From the very beginning she's treated me like a normal person."

"You are a normal person." Harry can always be counted upon to bring me right back down to earth.

"Y'know what I fucking mean."

Harry just laughs. "I do. And I think it's lovely. Next time you see her I want a picture. What's her name?"

"Charlotte."

"Charlotte what?"

"Don't know." I frown at that as well. I think her Instagram name included something else but it may have been a middle name? It was Charlie something. But I can't remember.

How do I not know her full name?

"How long have you guys been-"

I cut him off before he can finish that sentence, my odd protective streak rearing its ugly head. "Five months. Met her in August at the diner she works at. She's a waitress, but she models and acts."

"A true California girl!" Harry grins. "So when do you see her again?"

"I just tried to get her to come to Nashville tomorrow but she can't."

"Why not?"

"She has to work. And she's never flown on an airplane before."

Saying it out loud sounds so odd and strangely innocent. I'm surprised, but then again not at all, that she's never been on a place.

That's kind of how she is, I can never really figure her out.

"If I lived in Los Angeles I probably wouldn't fly anywhere either," Harry shrugs. I want to hug him for being so accepting of her already, which is weird. But I know she'll like him. And he'll like her.

"Yeah, I mean, that's fine it's just that... I want to see her."

"Then go to LA."

"M'not scheduled to be in LA until February for the Grammys."

"You sound like a puppet." Harry fires back. "If you want to see her go get on a plane."

"You're right," I nod, turning to my phone. "Think I could get the Atlanta show cancelled without being in a heap of trouble?"

"You mean the show the day before your birthday? I hear you have the flu."

"What are you going to do?" I ask, realizing this plan is leaving out my best friend.

"I'm sure I can find something to do in Los Angeles."

"Sorted." I nod, with the second real genuine smile I've had since seeing Charlotte.

The first was earlier on the phone when she knew where I was. Why did she know that anyway? I don't think I was on TMZ today.

There's a knock on my door, it's my assistant informing me I have ten minutes until show time. I get up and follow her out the dressing room door while Harry trails behind, holding my phone helplessly. I want to text and tell her now but then I'll spend the next hour and a half wondering what she's texting back.

"Just text her," Harry goads, always seeming to read my thoughts. "And ask her if she has any cute friends for me."