Strings and Schemes

Chapter 9

I laugh, both impressed and embarrassed. "How did you get ahold of this?"

"Louis sent me your profile," he says casually. "Now I basically listen to your playlists 24/7. You'd think I'd prefer my own, but yours are something else."

I roll my eyes, but his compliment warms me.

"Have you always been this into music?" he asks, settling beside me.

I nod. "I think a lot of moments in life can be made better with the right music, scenery, or ambiance."

He hums appreciatively. "Are you sure you have no musical ambitions? Because, honestly, your playlists rival the original albums."

I laugh. "No, really. I just want to live a low-key life—one where only the people I want to know me actually do."

His expression softens. "I always wanted that, too. But then an opportunity came, and I felt compelled to take a shot at my one out-of-this-world dream. Never thought it would go anywhere."

He leans back, exhaling slowly. "I think that's what made me struggle so much—knowing there were two parts of me that didn't quite align. It made for a lot of rainy days, a lot of difficulty reconciling the two."

I nod, understanding more than he realizes.

"Let me in," he says, pulling me closer.

"I already have," I whisper, though neither of us is sure if that's true.

He studies me for a moment. "I know there's more to your story than you let on. I'm happy to wait, but there are some obvious plot holes in what you've told me."

I sigh, knowing he's right. "I'm private to a fault."

He waits for me to continue.

"I guess I've just always felt more comfortable listening than talking. Or repeating the same stories—the ones I've already processed, packaged up neatly so people don't worry too much."

"Well, let's start with Liam," he prompts. "Why does he think you and Louis don't hook up?"

I exhale sharply. "That one's complicated. It's Louis' business, not mine. He wanted to keep Liam in the dark, and it's not my place to change that. It frustrates me, but I won't cross that line."

Zayn frowns. "Isn't he crossing a line by putting you in that position, knowing you're friends with both of them?"

I blink. "I never really thought of it that way."

Shrugging, I add, "Our parents would love it if Louis and I were into each other, but that's just not how we're wired."

Zayn nods, understanding the weight of public expectation. "I felt the same way with my first girlfriend. I loved her, but I was young. And tempted. The access that came with fame was... intoxicating. Not my proudest moment. The hate I got for breaking the mold was brutal."

I listen, but I can't let myself fully relate. Can't let my worlds collide. Can't let myself be seen in a way I'm not ready for.

I nod, absorbing his words. He says it so plainly, like it's just a fact of life—that love can be real, but still not enough to fight against the outside world. It makes me wonder if that's how my own life will always be. A balancing act between what I want and what I can actually allow myself to have.

He looks at me, waiting for me to say something. Maybe waiting for me to tell my own version of that story. And suddenly, the air shifts. My chest tightens, my throat feels smaller. I can't let my walls crumble here—not now, not yet.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Zayn," I say, my voice softer than before.

He tilts his head, searching my face. I know that look. The quiet expectation that I'll give something back. That I'll let him in just a little more.

I inhale, steadying myself before continuing. "I need to be honest about my boundaries. Maybe it seems like I don't have many because of what's happened this past week, but I do. And this is one—I need you not to push me on my story. I've already opened up to you more than almost anyone else lately."

He tries to interject, but I hold up a hand.

"It's not you," I say firmly. "You're probably the safest person I could tell. But I've spent my whole life building these walls—I can't just knock them down overnight."

Zayn exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for pushing. I'll wait. Just... come to me when you're ready."

I slide closer, resting a hand on his thigh. "Just keep doing whatever you're doing. I've never been this enchanted by someone, and I don't want it to stop."

A smirk tugs at his lips, both cocky and sincere. "Oh, I'll do anything to keep bothering you."