stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 27

Charlotte

I feel so uncomfortable poured into one of Alli’s bright pink, skintight dresses. She’s taller than me, so I can’t imagine how short it must be on her. I had to borrow shoes too, since all my heels are locked away in my apartment behind the straggler photographers still waiting for a picture. 

I’ve already read online that people know Zayn is headed back to Los Angeles after his show tonight, because he’s just inseparable from “brunette model Charlotte Ray.” It feels funny, seeing my name in print that way. There are always adjectives attached. And someone found some really embarrassing old modeling pictures, so they’re starting to use those in conjunction with all the paparazzi ones. 

As I finish up my makeup I’m hoping I look so much unlike myself that I blend in with the club crowd tonight. Where we’re going is definitely a celebrity hotspot, but without Zayn I can’t have all that much allure.

Aside from the girls in the frozen yogurt shop and someone at my eyebrow waxing place, I’ve yet to be recognized without my famous other half.

“Car’s here!” Alli calls from the living room.

I run coral blush over the apples of my cheeks and step back from the mirror. I look so different with pounds of makeup. More like someone Zayn Malik would probably date. I don’t know how this makes me feel, but I finish up the last of the second round of mixed drinks Alli made to warm us up while we got ready and leave the bathroom.

“You look gorgeous!” Alli beams. It’s probably because I’m wearing everything of hers and we’re matching in pink, making me look like her brunette Barbie twin. But I smile and thank her, doling out a similar compliment. Alli always looks like a Barbie.

 We climb into a car that’s clock reads eleven thirty and I check Zayn’s flight tracker. Alli giggles at my act. 

“Is he meeting us there?”

“He doesn’t land until 12:30, so I think he might pick me up at your place. I doubt I’ll still be at the club by the time he could get there.”

“Shit, I wanted Hillary to see you with him,” Alli sours. 

It is tempting. We both hate Hillary, and it would kill her to know I’m dating Zayn Malik.

The car drops us off on the curb and I follow behind Alli who is much more knowledgeable about what to do at clubs than I am. She leads us to the front of the line, says something to the man at the door and we’re let in in front of dozens of people in the next second. I’m not sure how she did it, but I give the people glaring at us an apologetic shrug as we cut in front of them.

Once inside Alli leads us to a table where Stacey sits perched atop the booth.

“Alli!” she screams, launching herself toward my friend. They hug before she turns her attention to me.

“Charlie! My god, we need to talk. I need to know everything about Zayn Malik!” Stacey has wrapped a long, thing arm around my shoulder and before I can protest is dragging me to where she was sitting and fixing me a drink from the huge bottles of alcohol and mixers at her table.

Fortunately, before she can force me to fill her in someone else at the table distracts her and I’m able to take my drink and go stand with Alli, who has already accepted a drink and struck up a conversation with a few guys we know. 

Tom and Johnny. They’re the only straight male models in the group tonight, and I’ve met them a handful of times. Tom has always sort of given me the creeps. Alli has always insisted he has a thing for me, but he has a weird way of showing it. And if I didn’t want anything to do with him last time I saw him a few months ago, I sure as hell don’t want to start anything now that I have a boyfriend.