Your Creation • Zarry

40. Niall's Pregnant

I had no idea why Zayn was acting so weird all of a sudden. I kept glancing over at him on the tour bus but he was being oddly quiet, just staring out the window with his headphones on, not saying a word to anyone.

It was midnight and we had just finished our last show of the North American tour. We were so exhausted and on our way to the airport to fly back home to the UK for our press weeks for our documentary that was premiering soon. We were always busy.

Another half hour went by and I just couldn't take his silence anymore. I got off the seat and squeezed his shoulder to get his attention. He looked at me with tired eyes, but said nothing. I pulled his earbud out.

"Zayn, are you okay?"

"I'm good," he responded, putting his earbud back in and turning away from me again.

I sighed and decided to go to the bunks and lay down. We had been so great for the past week, other than Perrie's sudden presence in Los Angeles the last few days, but I dealt with it flawlessly, in my opinion. I was really trying my best.

I tore my clothes off and laid down on the bottom bunk, trying to quiet my mind when Zayn came in after me, shutting the door behind him.

"I have to tell you something," he said quietly, climbing into my bunk and squishing down to lay beside me. I turned on my side to look at him; he looked upset.

"What is it?"

"You're not going to like this."

Well great...that's the last thing I wanted to hear before we parted ways for a week. I blinked and stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Little Mix isn't really taking off the way they had anticipated. They can't even break into America."

"That's a shame."

"So I guess Simon talked to Jen and...well, Jen spoke to me earlier today. She wants me and Perrie to get engaged."

This had to be a prank and honestly, I started laughing.

"I'm not joking, Harry."

"She really wants you to marry Perrie? Like, ask her to be your wife? They can't be serious."

"Well they bloody are. They think that an engagement will be good publicity for us both. And that'll be the best thing to keep the attention off you and me if you think about it..."

"I think it's a shit idea and I hate it."

"It's not like I'm actually going to marry her. We'll just be engaged for awhile until - "

"Until when?" I cut him off, feeling annoyed. "For how long? Years? That's fucking stupid. Just tell me something, do you really love her?"

Zayn didn't answer right away.

"Because if you ask me, I don't think she even truly loves you. I think she loves herself and her career and you and I both know that."

I wasn't holding it back anymore. I was done with keeping these feelings to myself.

"I do care about her...and it's not a black and white situation, Harry. And it's like I'm chained to this fucking band and to this management and nobody even cares about what I want."

"What do you want?"

"To leave and go somewhere far away 99 percent of the time to be perfectly honest. I feel so fucking suffocated here."

"To leave? Ok, so what about me? Do you want to leave me too?"

Zayn sighed outwardly and closed his eyes. I could tell that he was stressed out but so was I for fuck's sake. This whole situation was one cluster fuck of a headache all the damn time.

"You're the only reason I even care to stay here," Zayn answered, looking at me.

I honestly didn't even know how to feel about that answer. It should have made me feel validated but somehow it didn't, because it didn't even seem like Zayn wanted to be in the band, which was news to me.

"I'm confused. So you're really going to get engaged then? You're going to buy her a diamond ring and ask her to be your wife and tell your family and her family and pretend like you're in love with her and that she's going to be Mrs. Perrie Malik, is that honestly what's going to happen?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what's going to happen. I'm just trying to please everyone but seems like I can't no matter what I do or don't do."

Everything just kept getting more complicated and it was really starting to piss me off.

"Well I'll tell you right now I'm not going to be supportive. I'm not going to even pretend like I care about your sham engagement because I don't. It's a load of shit."

"Of course not. You'll just act up and be petty like you always are," Zayn responded, rolling his eyes as he climbed out of my bunk and walked out.

Zayn and I hadn't spoken for a week while we were home after that conversation. I spent some time with my Mum and my sister Gemma, which made me feel much better. I didn't tell them about Zayn, but being around my family reminded me of the other things in my life that were important to me, not just Zayn and the band. I needed these reminders for my sanity.

We were in London to do a bunch of interviews and press for the film and I was trying my best to talk myself into a positive headspace. I promised Liam, Louis and Niall that nothing between Zayn and I was ever going to affect the band. Everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be just fine. Everything had to be fine. I had to be fine.

Right before our first interview, Niall approached me.

"You going to be okay mate?" Niall asked, squeezing my shoulder.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well...we uh, we heard about the engagement."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah I'm okay. I'm delighted in fact. I'm just so happy for him and Perrie. Can't wait for the bachelor party," I replied sarcastically while Niall let out an awkward chuckle.

"Now I know you're lying but just try to keep it cool. You got this."

"Yeah sure. I'll keep it cool."

Nope, there was not a chance I was making any promises on that one. Of course, Zayn's engagement was brought up during Niall and I's interview almost immediately, to which I pretended like I hadn't even heard about it and then decided that Niall was pregnant, so I congratulated him. Luckily Niall just went along with it but there was no way in hell I was going to deal with that question every single time we had an interview. I was going to joke my way out of it and avoid the topic altogether and nobody was going to tell me I couldn't.