𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⟡﹒

prologue

𝐘/𝐍

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IT WAS A NORMAL DAY, as long as you ignore the fact that it wasn't.

"Stop following me like a lost puppy, Zayne." You shudder, phone clutched tightly in your fist as you pushed your way through the plethora of clammy and drunken bodies.

You ever seen those commercials where people screw up the simplest of tasks in the most idiotic fashion ever? Yeah, that's basically what happened here.

"You know it wasn't like that," Zayne says to you, though he wasn't really talking to you, rather it was Jean talking through him.

"He knew how I felt about him yet he still,"

Don't give them too much of yourself.

"You know we're in the same boat right?" You ask mockingly, stopping your eager stride at a nearby wall. "Don't defend him as if he would do the same for you."

Zayne blinks at you, maybe once, maybe twice . . . . maybe three times.

"What, cus' were both black?" The dreadhead urges ignorantly, tucking his hands in his pockets as his pink locks sway from side to side.

Men surviving off of zero to no brain cells genuinely needs to be studied.

"Zayne," You smile, but not a smile that would be considered welcoming.
Grabbing him by his collar, you swiftly back him up and into the wall, despite your major height differences, "Don't be asking them stupid ass questions you know, you know the answer to."

And with that, you shove Zayne hardly against the wall one last time, then continue your meaningless stroll towards what you hoped would be the nearest exit. You imagined that he would lay there on that wall for hours — sulking in his own miserable, self pity.

You wanted him to feel the same embarrassment you'd felt, especially because of your racial similarities.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'd kiss you in a heartbeat." Zayne admits, his voice echoing the loudest despite the constant voices that could be heard chattering throughout the lengthy hallway.

"Yeah, ight." you mumble harshly to  yourself.

That was all you needed.

It was all you needed to hear before pivoting on one foot and retracing your steps back to him in nothing but anger, and pure rage.

You didn't care about who you barged or shoved on your way to Zayne. You were upset, and really needed to slap the poop out of someone. Zayne here, just ended up being your victim. Though, he wasn't really the victim in this situation.

"Let me just be perfectly clear," You spit, searching for your voice in a horde of noise, "this," Your wrap your palm around his throat, "was not my fault."

There are three things you need to know before you read this.

No, you weren't usually a violent person. Okay, no that was a lie. You believed in keeping your hands to yourself. But when it came to guys like Zayne and well, now Jean — you just couldn't help yourself.

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