Strings and Schemes

Chapter 33

The second we step off the plane, I feel it—the shift, the weight of London settling back over me like a too-tight coat. Zayn's hand is still in mine, warm and grounding, but as soon as the first camera flash goes off, I feel the familiar prickle at the back of my neck.

The shouting starts immediately.

"Zayn! Over here!"

"Raina, how does your family feel about this?"

"Are you officially together?"

"Did you really spend two weeks holed up together in Greece?"

"Raina, are you moving in with him?"

"Zayn, how does it feel dating a diplomat's daughter?"

Zayn squeezes my hand lightly, wordlessly reminding me that we don't stop. We don't react. That he's got me, and we're going to be okay.

The SUV door slams shut behind us, silencing the outside world.

I let out a slow breath.

Zayn glances at me. "You okay?"

I nod, even though my pulse is still racing. "Yeah. It's just... a lot."

He smirks slightly. "Well, you did insist we go public."

I nudge him in the ribs, rolling my eyes. "I didn't think it would feel this insane. Nor did we have that much of a choice in the matter," I remind him.

He studies me for a moment. "You regret it?"

I shake my head immediately. "No. I just... I don't know how to navigate it yet."

His smirk softens into something more genuine. "Then we figure it out."

By the time we're back at Zayn's flat, the internet has already done its thing.

Every news outlet has a different version of our relationship story. The headlines are relentless.

"Zayn & Raina: The New It Couple?"

"A Diplomat's Daughter and a Pop Star—What Could Possibly Go Wrong?"

"Zayn Malik Goes Public with Raina Addams: The Power Move We Didn't See Coming."

I scroll through them, my stomach twisting. I knew this was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier.

"God, these news articles.." I mutter, "I'll give it to them, they have great hooks. Even I want to read more." I chuckle lowly. A very non-humoured laugh.

Zayn watches me carefully from across the kitchen, sipping his tea, placing a mug in front of me. "I've always found myself more interested in the articles about who they think I am than who I actually am," he concurs. Before reading me, "You're spiralling."

"I am not spiralling," I argue, my tone indicating exactly the opposite.

He raises an eyebrow. As if to say checkmate.

I groan, setting my phone down. "I just hate that they get to shape the story before I even get a say in it."

Zayn nods slowly. "Then let's take it back."

I frown. "How?"

He picks up his phone, scrolling for a second before looking back at me. "You trust me?"

I blink at him. "Zayn, what are you-"

He turns his phone around, showing me what he's pulled up.

A picture of us.