How To Act Gay [LiLo]

[10] The Progress.

(if you can see the image above, thats how i picture all the boys in this book. thanks @godamnialll for the pink haired zayn pic omf)

LOUIS' POV

"Do you want me to do the whole airplane spoon thing?" Zayn's annoying voice cut into my worrying thoughts as he slammed his palm onto the dinner table in front of me like an interrogating cop, narrowing his eyes. "Because Tommo, I will not hesitate to do that."

I rolled my eyes at the lad, moving my hand away from my mouth before I bit off all of my fingers from anxiety. You can't blame me though. Today was the first official day of Rush shooting for the new season. The new season in which I'll be starring. Me. Wow.

My character, I recently learned from Zayn-- surprise surprise-- would be only in for about six to seven episodes and then return for the season finale. I was more than okay with that really. This role was better in every single way than my previous ones.

And hey, who knows. Maybe my character will become to this show what Castiel became to Supernatural.

"Zayn! I swear I'll just puke everything back up!" I protested sleepily, pushing my plate back, and Zayn glared at me for a few seconds like a cross mother, then sighed with a shrug, finally giving up and turning back towards the sizzling stove, flipping something in a fancy fashion as I scoffed.

Zayn was the cook between us of course. I was forbidden to touch any of the kitchen appliances since I mysteriously end up breaking them in some way. Trust me, it's a mystery, even to me. I even burned myself while boiling water for instant noodles so it's pretty safe to say that I'm a hopeless cause.

I honestly don't mind Zayn mothering me though. It feels nice to know that someone cares enough to make food for you and check if you ate or not. Sure my Mum did that and still does, but she doesn't live with me now, does she?

I sighed, mentally making a note to call Mum as I had to tell her about whatever will go down today or I'd never head the end of it for keeping her out of the loop.

And just like that, my thoughts jumped onto the tangent of the impending day when I'll start my shooting for the big fancy TV show and meet Liam Payne and Will Baker again and embarrass myself. Yeah, those thoughts.

I quickly shook my head, banging my head on the grimy table as I groaned.

A few seconds and a bit of plate clinking later, I heard Zayn's counselor voice say, "Talk to me, baby."

I scoffed, looking up from my makeshift pillow of my sweayer covered arm. I weakly smiled at Zayn sat across from me, who was drumming his fingers against the table now. I pushed my long, tangled fringe out of my eyes, suppressing a yawn.

Zayn still wasn't dressed for the morning, his hair the usual pink and black unstyles mohawk, and he was also a bundle of excited nerves because he was going to meet Liam Payne, also known as the other love of his life today. And hence, Zayn Malik had literally dragged me out of bed at the ungodly hour of 6AM when we had to leave at 10, quickly whipping us up some breakfast then threatening me to eat, so he can go on and headstart on his two and a half hour long pampering.

I raised an eyebrow as I eyed his t-shirt. Can't touch this, even in your wettest dreams written in pink cursive writing on the grey fabric.

"Custom made?" I smirked behind my glass of water.

"What-- oh this. Yep. Made it myself actually!" Zayn grinned proudly, then turned a tad serious as he scooted his chair closer to me.

"Now. Talk to Zaynie. Don't worry your empty little mind," Zayn cooed, and I playfully pushed him away as he laid his head against my shoulder.

I sighed, fiddling with my fingers. The early morning sunlight was slowly pouring through our kitchen window, changing the colors of the room.