One Shots {Requests Open}

[Ziall] Because I Mean It

The one where Zayn is an international pop sensation and Niall is his new guitar player.

xx

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Being on the road is hard for Zayn. First of all, he’s alone. He’s an eighteen year-old pop star who has never really had foundation in his life, other than his only half caring father who was only around the house 25% of the time and his mother who worked too much when Zayn was younger. Having people screaming his name and grabbing his limbs and begging for his hand in marriage is sometimes too much for Zayn to handle on his own. Tour is scary for international pop star Zayn Malik. He’s never really been much of a people person anyway.

            Of course there’s Liam, his childhood friend who calls him to see how the tour is going every other day. But it’s hard. Liam is in Uni now, and school takes up all of his time. Even when they talk things are hard. Both of them are stressed. Liam is swamped in school work and Zayn is dead tired from show after show after show. Zayn whishes that he could go back in time and sit with Liam in his backyard and swim in the tiny pool and talk about girls like they used to or wrestle in the grass. Life just has no substance now, nothing to hold onto. And now, half way through his world tour, things are dragging. He forces himself to get up every morning and he hates himself for it. He should be loving life. He should be so thankful for everything that is happening to him. But sometimes the fire in his heart is gone.

            “Zayn, get onstage. Sound check. Let’s go,” Zayn’s manager, Chris, pushes him through the back halls of the arena. Zayn isn’t really moving on his own accord and his feet are sliding across the concrete floors. “Zayn, mate, seriously let’s go,”

            “Yeah yeah,” Zayn mutters, side stepping away from Chris and walking on his own. It’s cold back in the halls of the arena and Zayn just wants to retire to his bunk on his tour bus or the comfy seats of the jet. He needs someone to fuel his energy for the show tonight. Desperately.

            “You have a new band member too, Zayn,” Chris says, “Your old guitar player dropped off on us, the little twat. I never liked him anyway.”

            “So, the new one?” Zayn asks, “He’s an alright bloke?”

            “Yeah, yeah, young, your age, amazing too. Acoustic. Electric. Name it and he can play it. He already has the music down and he’s on stage waiting for the sound check. Introduce yourself. He’ll be with us the rest of the tour,” Chris pushes Zayn onto the stage and walks away, back to do manager-ish stuff Zayn guesses.

            Zayn walks on the stage. It’s one of the biggest yet on the tour, and the thousands of empty seats seems so daunting as his shoes click against the stage. He balls his hands into fists at his sides and he walks right into the middle, staring up at the big lights that are soon to be shining and the seats that are soon to be filled. He takes a deep breath and takes the microphone right from the stand, rolling it in his hands and comparing it to his tattoo with a little smile and laugh. He turns around and looks to the band. The old drummer who has the long raggy hair and the tattoos. His name’s Pete. The piano player, Harry, who is actually a year younger than Niall and really super talented with his big hands and his curly hair. Sometimes he and Zayn hang out, but normally Harry hides from the press. Then there is the bass player. Zayn doesn’t know his name. The guy refuses to talk like ever. And Zayn is kind of afraid of his purple hair and piercings.

            And then there is a new face. The boy holding the red guitar, his blonde tipped hair styled up and looking rather soft, Zayn realizes. The boy smiles and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he steps forward with a small smile and a tilt of the head, “Hello Zayn. I’m Niall Horan, the new guitar player,”