Zayn's Best Friend

Chapter 31

*Kylie's POV*

"Remind me, Remind me." I sang for hopefully one of the last times in front of Bridget, and she nodded her head, smirking at Zayn. Bitch.

"We're going home in less than a week." Zayn murmured to me, making me feel better. The boys had a break from tour, 4 days off before they continued it.

"I fucking hate her." I muttered, as we ran through the song again and again. We had it perfect- doing it 254738635962582 times can do that.

"Remember the airport dropping me off, we were kissing goodbye-" my voice cracked. "Shit, sorry."

"In a concert, you can't just stop if you mess up." Zayn said, his voice sounding slightly irritated. What the fuck? I wasn't the professional here- I was doing this for HIM.

"Thanks, mom." I snarled back. We were both in bad moods this morning and I had no idea why. Zayn and I were so in-tune and knew each other so well that problems when we're both in bad moods sometime just exploded. It had been that way since we were kids.

"Just trying to help." He snapped.

"Well, you aren't my teacher." I said, my voice hard.

"Calm down." He hissed sharply. Did he really just tell me to calm down? That's, like, a rule- never tell a girl to calm down.

"Stop being a dick." I growled, my voice low.

"Stop being a bitch." Zayn spat.

"I don't know what the hell your problem is this morning, Zayn!" My voice rose.

"Sorry I'm not constantly rainbows and smiles. Get out of Kylie-land and hop into reality. Everyone's not always happy."

"Drag yourself off of Zayn Planet because you're not Mr. Perfect and the world doesn't revolve around you!"

"You're not perfect either." He snapped.

"At least I'm not a selfish bastard! I'm doing this for you, asshole!" I spun away, stomping out of the room. On cue, lightning flashed in the glass ceiling and thunder rattled the sky.

"Uh...you guys can go..." Bridget said awkwardly.

I stalked down the hallway, pressing the elevator button furiously. I hated being on the 25th fucking floor, I hated being able to see the stupid fucking storm through the stupid fucking glass ceiling, I hated singing in front of all these fucking people, and I hated how Zayn didn't fucking see it was for HIM. I'm only doing this so we can stay together, it would be easier to just quit it all and find a boyfriend not in an internationally famous fucking boy band. I did it because even though he was a dick, I loved him.

The elevator dinged and I stepped in, scrunching against the wall as a tear fell out of my eye. The door was about to close and a foot popped in, the doors opening again.

No. No. No. No.

Yes.

Zayn came in, his face hard and his hair messy. He ran his hand through it again, looking at me crunched in the corner. He stared at me, frowning as the elevator moved. Floor 20. Floor 18. Floor 16. Floor- the lights flickered, the elevator movement stopping.

The lights went off, everything going dark. I let out a loud whimper. I didn't like elevators anyways; this was something from my worst nightmare.

Luckily, my boyfriend was here.

Except, oh yeah, he was a prick and I didn't want to be near him right now. Zayn's phone lit up, and I reached in my pocket for mine. Fuck. I didn't have mine; it was most likely on the charger because I was rushed.