Young & Beautiful (Zarry)

Mr. Brightside

-Zayn’s Point of View-

I couldn’t be any more out of place here.

When you enter The Grand the shock of bright white makes you blink repeatedly to adjust your eyes. The theme is white on white. How original. It’s all high ceilings and big white pillars with white lamps hanging from wires. The only color is the framed photographs on the walls so all the focus is where it should be. Faint acoustic guitar accompanied by piano is wafting from the speakers that are skillfully hidden so the music seems to just be coming from thin air.

Uptight looking upper-class elitists mill about the large space sipping cocktails and it seems quite posh.

I feel out of my element wearing my old Nirvana t-shirt with my leather jacket. Everyone else is wearing either white or black with minimal color. Shit, looks like I didn’t get the memo that this was a black and white festivity. People unashamedly eye me from head-to-toe as the glide on past me. I pretend not to notice as I scan the room for the only reason I’m here for.

Instead I find Niall chatting up Liam. Huh? That’s weird. I guess Niall must’ve invited him.

I grab one of the champagne flutes off a passing by server’s silver tray as I move on to hunt down Harry.

I stride on through the venue not caring if my motorcycle boots scuff up the polished wooden floor. I take a generous sip of champagne and keep my eye out for Harry.

I’m not really interested in the art on the walls.

In my rush to find Harry I bump into a girl wearing a plain white cocktail dress.

“Sorry.” I mumble trying to go around her.

“You’re the boy from the pictures aren’t you?” The girl’s bubbly high-pitched voice demands my attention as she side steps in front of me blocking my path.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” I tell her honestly.

“Harry Styles photographed you.”

I look at her with a little bit of annoyance.

“My name’s Grace Highland.” She says as if I’m supposed to know who she is.

“Pleasure to meet you.” I say politely but the biting edge still in my tone.

“Here’s my card.” She fishes into her small clutch purse and produces a white card with gold edges.

I take the card from her curiously and read it to myself. In black roman scripture it says Highland & Sykes Modeling Agency. I stuff the card in my back pocket.

“I hope you’ll give us a call.” She nods lightly before breezing past me.

Modeling agency? Yeah right. Harry’s camera is the only one I’ll ever pose for.

When I finally spot Harry he’s in a darkened corner, champagne in hand talking to a leggy brunette.  She’s laughing at whatever he’s saying and he’s showing off his dimples. The woman leans in to whisper something in his ear and that’s when I reach my limit.

I turn around making my way to the entrance.

I’m so much angrier than I should be.

I want all of Harry’s attention.

I want him to keep those smiles locked away only reserved for me.

I want him to show no interest in anyone else but me.

I want to be completely selfish with him.

I’m almost to the next block when I hear my name being shouted behind me. I ignore it and keep walking towards my motorcycle.