Terminal Four (Z.M)

o n e .

Zayn grimaced at Kris' words, a frown emitting his features. "I really don't think so, Kris."

"Oh, come on," Kris said, swinging her legs onto her table, leaning back onto her chair. "You're young and dynamic, and a very successful dude. Ariana Keller's also young and dynamic, and she's pretty much the head of her father's company. Plus, she's really not that much older than you, she's only twenty four. Think about it. She's hot."

Zayn rolled his eyes at her. "Please don't. You know I'm not interested in her like that."

"Mr. Malik," the intercom on his desk buzzed suddenly, the distorted voice of the receptionist interrupting them. "Ms. Keller is waiting for you in her room on the twelfth floor. Please do go there immediately."

"Alright," Zayn mumbled, clicking the intercom, before getting to his feet. He ignored the smirk on Kris' face as he picked up the stack of completed manuscripts off his desk. "If you walk out there with a promotion, then I need two parties," Kris called out to him. "One for the promotion, and one for predicting it!"

Zayn walked towards the elevators, waiting for them to open, before stepping inside. As the elevator doors shut him close inside the box, his heart beat faster than usual. Not because of his usual claustrophobia (yes, he was very claustrophobic), but because of the fact that he... he didn't really want the promotion.

God, he didn't want this freaking job.

He ran his hand through his hair, accidentally ruining his quiff and then grimacing at his reflection. He quickly formed the quiff again, concentrating on the mirrors on the elevator walls. What if he quit?

His eyes in the reflection widened as this thought struck him.

But what would he do, if he quit? He definitely wouldn't be getting ten thousand dollars per month, which was for sure. But then again... he would be free. He wouldn't have to force himself to get out of bed every morning to come here to work where he did the same old shit every single day. He wouldn't have to do any of that.

But what would he do?

The elevator binged as it reached the twelfth floor, taking an extra second for the elevator doors to open, before Zayn stepped out of it, his heart now beating faster. Quitting seemed like a pretty good idea. Oh god, what the heck was wrong with him?

He stopped in front of the big mahogany door, labelled ARIANA KELLER in gold, before knocking twice on it. Almost immediately, a soft female voice called back. "Come in!"

Zayn pushed the door open, and found his boss sitting on her chair, her cheeks tinted pink, as she hastily adjusted her hair. She got to her feet, smiling brightly at Zayn. He raised his eyebrows. "They said you called for me."

"I did," she said. "Take a seat, please."

Zayn uncomfortably sat in front of her desk, drumming his fingers against his knee. How was he going to say it? Hey, listen, I'm tired of working here at your father's shit company, so I'm gonna quit now, bye?

If it sounded that bad in his head, he couldn't even imagine what would happen if he actually said that.

"So," Ariana blushed, running her hands through her golden hair. "Let me just get to the point. Zayn, you're probably one of the youngest and best employees we've ever had at Park, and we think you deserve something better than whatever you're getting now."

Zayn inwardly rolled his eyes. Here comes the dreaded part...

"You've been promoted, Zayn," she beamed, her eyes shining as she looked at him. "Congratulations!"