*Zayn’s POV*

I ran as fast as I possibly could to the waiting taxi that was most likely waiting for someone else. Oh well.

I gave the driver the address of the arena where our tour bus was parked. God, this was so ‘heavily frowned upon’ by our management. We weren’t supposed to be without security, we weren’t supposed to have sexual relations with fans, especially if we had girlfriends, we weren’t supposed to be gone overnight, and we were NOT supposed to miss interviews. 

New message from: Leeyum -- Interview started. You’re ‘sick’, let us know where the hell you are.—

I texted him back –I’m sorry. Coming back to the bus now.—

What else was I supposed to say except that I was sorry? I had no excuse. I was an asshole, pure and simple. I let Kylie down, I let the boys down, I let the interviewer and people who wanted to see all of One Direction down. The taxi pulled up to the arena, which the bus would be leaving promptly after the interview to get to the next location, the next-to-last one on the tour. I got out, tossing two twenties in the front and mumbling for the driver to keep the change. I could see the bus in my peripheral view, hounded by fans. Shit.

How could I get to the bus when there were at least fifty girls surrounding it? Especially when I was supposed to be in it anyway, sick.

I called Paul, standing against the side of a building so nobody would see me.

“Zayn, where the hell are you?” He sounded furious, which didn’t happen very often.

“Um, well, I made a mistake. And I can see the bus, and I’m alone, and I’m supposed to be in it and, well, I’m not.”

“You’re fucking stupid.” He cussed. “I’m at the interview with the boys. Kylie is with us, I’m sending Jason to get you. He’ll take you in, but you have to be sick. I don’t know how you’re going to say you were sick considering some of these girls have been here all night and you didn’t come out so you couldn’t come back in.”

“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Thanks, Paul. Please tell the boys I’m sorry and tell Kylie I love her.”

“God damn Zayn, now she’s crying.” He cussed a minute later, after I heard him tell her that I loved her.

“Let me talk to her.” I replied, getting on the golf cart that the security guy drove up. I gave him a wave and mouthed a ‘thank you’.

“She, uh, left.” Paul lied. I could tell he was lying. Kylie just didn’t want to talk to me.

“That’s bullshit.” I snapped. “But whatever. Thank you, Paul.” My voice got softer as I sighed the last word, my body physically deflating. I hung up my phone, not having the energy to talk to him anymore even though he saved my ass.

“ZAYN!” voices screamed, and I remembered I had an audience as we drove towards the bus.

I put on my best sick face and waved, not stopping to sign anything as I got out of the cart, said thank you to Jason, and stepped onto the bus. As soon as the door shut, I threw myself on the couch. How did I get myself into this mess?

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, the boys were hovering over me. Harry looked down the second I looked at him… weird.

“Where the hell were you?” Liam said, he was definitely the angriest at me.

“Umm…where’s Kylie?” I ignored him.

“In the back, waiting for you to come talk to her.” Louis informed me. “But where were you?”

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