Sparks Fly

four

“…He needs a PA. Like a secretary type thing.” Zayn winced at the glare I shot him. “I thought it would be a good idea!” he whined. 

“Well it wasn't!” I snapped, slamming the car door being me and growling at him. “How could you think it was a good idea?! I don't want to work for my brother! And- Louis! My ex-boyfriend! And- and… And-”

“The love of your life?”

“I hate you!” I seethed, shoving him away. “I don't want to work for a bunch of sweaty boys! I want a nice job, in an office!”

“But babe…” Zayn chuckled. “You get to tour with us! Imagine being on the road with us, with your best friend! You can travel to all these different countries and get paid for it… It will be amazing! Come on… Paul likes you, you know he does. I've pulled a couple of strings, it's only an interview… You might not even get the job!”

“Oh believe me, with the bad luck I've had lately, I'd get the job,” I grumbled. Zayn laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pushing his sunglasses further onto his face as he shot a smile at a couple of girls walking past us. They giggled, keeping their heads down as they hurried past and Zayn shot me a smug grin. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as he lead me into the building. 

“Was Paul impressed then?” he asked, pressing the button for the lift. I shrugged my shoulders, shaking him off and crossing my arms over my chest. “What's with you, Cass? Seriously. You won't let me touch you or anything.”

“Because you know how your fans are and I don't want any more death threats thank you very much.” I muttered, the lift door sliding closed behind us.

“Wh- you don't want any more? As in, you've already had some?” Zayn frowned. “When? Why?”

“While I was away,” I sighed. “For obvious reason. I keep telling you guys that your fans aren't stupid so don't treat them like they are. You're cryptic tweets aren't as cryptic as you think they are, and me running off to America and Harry moving out… It wasn't hard for them to work out. I just don't want anyone thinking I'm a One Direction groupie so please keep your hands to yourself when we're in public.”

“Oh babe,” Zayn chuckled. “You could never be a One Direction groupie… Liam's your brother anyway so that'd be fucking weird. And illegal.”

“Ew!” I groaned. “Did you have to Zayn? Really?”

“Oh, hey guys!” Polly smiled, abandoning the remote control on the sofa between her and Harry as we walked into the flat. “How'd it go? What was the surprise?”

“A job interview.” I grumbled. Polly raised her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Zayn before shaking her head, Harry scoffing next to her.

“You need lessons, Malik. What a rubbish surprise for a first date.”

“Will you all fuck off with this date thing!” I snapped at Harry. “Zayn and I are not and never will be going on any sort of date whatsoever! You all think you're hilarious and you're not!”

“Cass he didn't mean-”

“I'm pissed at you, leave me alone!” I interrupted Zayn and stalked off to my room, hearing him mutter an apology to them. I closed the door behind me, flopping down on the bed and kicking my shoes off as I buried my head in the pillow, taking deep breaths and willing myself not to cry. I heard the door open gently but I ignored it, knowing full well who it would be and staying still even when I felt the bed dip as he sat down.

“You need to say sorry for your little outburst.”

“I will,” I mumbled into the pillow.