Beside You

Chapter One

"It sure is loud out there," he stated as he settled onto the couch beside me.  I nodded wordlessly, continuing to watch him. He probably sensed this as he glanced towards me with a quirked eyebrow. "Please don't tell me you're going to start screaming. I've had enough of that today."

I let a smile take over my lips. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Okay." Zayn nodded, and although he had tried to keep his tone light when subtly asking me if I was a huge fan, I could see his shoulders loosen just a tiny bit. 

His tight black shirt hardly left anything to the imagination, outlining the ridges of his muscles every so slightly. Deciding that drooling probably wouldn't be a good for me, I tore my eyes away from him and instead looked out towards the dance floor. The club was two stories and we were currently on the second floor, in the more 'VIP' section. It was split up into three sections: the bar, the dance floor, and the couches. The bar usually had a collection of people keeping the bartender on his toes, the dance floor had multitudes of drunk and sober people laughing and trying not to fall over, while the couches that lined the area were quieter and on most occasions occupied by people like me. 

"Who are you here with?" Zayn asked and there was a certain influx in his voice that seemed as though he wasn't used to pursuing conversations.

"Nick Grimshaw." I replied, glancing his way. Our eyes met and I was overcome by the brown eyes, little flecks of gold swimming around them.

"He's a cool guy." Zayn acknowledged, his eyes flitting back towards the dance floor. I was able to see Nick and Harry Styles dancing like lunatics and I could already imagine the pictures that would be on Twitter later. The two, from what I had heard from Nick, were so close that nothing could separate the two when they were together. I didn't doubt that, especially as I watched Nick attempt to pick Harry up and throw him. We had hardly been there for an hour, and already I was sure Nick was beyond thinking 'rationally.' I could feel Zayn turn to watch me again, and I struggled to keep myself from saying something. Eventually, though, the silence got the best of him. "What's your name?"

"Joelle," I replied. "You?"

He looked taken aback, his eyebrows scrunching up and his lips pursing as he tried to figure out what I meant. "Uh, I'm Zayn."

"I know that," I nodded. I couldn't help but smirk just the tiniest bit when his expression became even more confused than before. Then, I used the words that usually loosened the tongues of the people I talked to. "Why are you here?"

"I needed to get away, you know? Sometimes life goes a bit too fast for my liking and I thought I needed to loosen up a bit, get my thoughts organized." Zayn shrugged his shoulders, the gesture being quick and didn't seem to have taken a lot of thought. His words flowed freely, yet they weren't pushed out by alcohol. 

"So you came to a club." I nodded again as if it made all the sense in the world. And to him, it probably did. Most people think that going out with friends was a way of relaxing and relieving the weight on their shoulders - when in all actuality, it presented pressure. The pressure to fit in with your friends, to drink and dance and be merry, all while keeping up the image that everything is perfect. It's hard to 'let loose' when you're trying to keep your image innocent.

"It's better than being cooped up in my flat feeling sorry for myself." He pointed out. As though announcing the end of the discussion on himself, he turned quickly to me and his eyes calculated me. "What are you doing here?" 

"I like to listen," I said simply. No other explanation, for me, was necessary.

"Listen to people? Music?" Zayn persisted, edging closer to me on the couch. 

This time it was my turn to shrug, as I continued to watch what was going on around me instead of the boy beside me. "Everything. By listening, I could tell you one thing about almost anyone here. They've all at one point trusted me enough to tell me their life story."

"What about the blonde over there, the one holding the blue glass and screaming the lyrics?" Zayn asked, as if taking my words as a challenge. 

It sure was strange, having someone asking me questions and not complaining how sucky their life was. It was a total change of what I was used to and I realized that I had talked quite a bit and it wasn't into a little radio microphone. For the first time in a bit, I was holding a real conversation with someone I had just met. One that had two sides of talking and listening. I squinted just a bit, analyzing the girl with cropped hair that reached just past her chin, the color resembling a bright flower. "Her name is Ashley. Her best friend is pregnant and she's frustrated because she wants to get married but her boyfriend is afraid of commitment."

"The guy in the leather jacket by the bar." Zayn continued on, as if enjoying this immensely. His demeanor had slackened - just a bit - and he seemed more comfortable with me now.

"I met him once before, he comes here once a week and always has a new girl on his arm but he's actually a really successful attorney."

"Wow, I'm sure you could write a book about all that you know. Or make a ton of money going to gossip magazines with celebrity stories." Zayn's voice held amusement. His body language showed that he had become more comfortable, no longer having that tense jaw or flitting eyes. His left leg was resting on his right knee, head tilted towards me. There was no eye contact, instead it was the unsaid 'I'm talking to you and you are talking to me so no need for awkward stranger contact'. Something I was all too familiar with. 

"And what would I gain from leaking secrets?" I asked, curious as to what his answer would be.

"Money, fame, and a reputation." Zayn eyes fluttered to mine for half a second, a hint of a smirk gracing his chapped lips.

"In my own personal opinion there's no sense in spilling knowledge. Most celebrity problems are the same as 'ordinary' people problems, the only difference is that a celebrity's life is scrutinized down to a strand of hair. Normal people have affairs, get busted with weed, or make mistakes while disappointedly drunk." I said swiftly, the words feeling weird as they left my mouth. Hardly had I ever talked about what I thought, usually I nodded and sympathized with them. I had to bite my lip to keep from rambling on.

A smile had fully taken over Zayn's lips, and although he didn't look at me, I felt as though his eyes were sparkling. Using his pointer finger on his left hand, he scratched his chin and nodded slowly. It wasn't a 'holy crap haha 100% accurate right on,' instead it was more of a thoughtful nod. As if understanding what I said. "Y'know, I've never agreed with someone so completely than I do right now."