Your Creation • Zarry

64. Flight of the stars

December 2017

I was so amazed. The first leg of my tour had been everything I could have ever hoped for. The energy that was coming from the fans had really filled my heart with joy. They supported me, my music and I could feel it so deeply, it was overwhelming. It's almost like they knew me better than I knew myself and it was the most inspiring feeling. It reminded me of why I did what I did. Being on stage in front of people was the thing I loved the most. I loved connecting with fans and having playful banter. I loved being with my team and my band mates. It was so much fun, I just wished Zayn could have seen it.

But that was the major difference between me and Zayn. Zayn suffered from a lot of anxiety and being on stage had always been a struggle for him. I know that I got nervous too and would overthink things, but his was something else entirely. Being in the band helped Zayn feel better and safer as a group, but he still hadn't been able to embrace that part of music on his own since he went solo and I genuinely felt bad for him because he was such an incredible artist. Zayn had the best voice I ever heard and I put him on a pedestal miles above me. I wished that he was still able to share that angelic gift with the world.

Another thing I thought about was how I would be spending a majority of my life on tour. It was nice that Camille was able to come see me quite a bit and having her around made me feel loads better, but I wasn't going to have that dynamic with Zayn, and touring was the part that would always be the best thing for me but the worst thing for us.

My tour ended in early December and I flew into Los Angeles right away. I ended up having an emergency hosting duty for James Corden on the Late Late Show since his wife went into labor, which I had not anticipated, but immediately following that, I drove to Zayn's house because he had planned on meeting me in LA this time.

I pulled up to his long, gated driveway on the hillside of Bel Air in my old classic Mercedes Benz. His place was this cozy 1960's style ranch, tucked away from everything, which was very Zayn, and I saw him sitting on his front porch in a Rastafarian colored striped sweatshirt smoking a cigarette. I got out of the car, slammed the door and quickly ran over to him like those meeting scenes from a film.

"Oh there she is," I heard Zayn speak as he put out his cigarette into a star shaped ash tray and opened his arms up for me.

I buried myself into him while he held me tight, as always, so tight that it felt like if he let go of me I just might have floated away into the night sky like a balloon.

"I missed you so fucking much," I said softly, nuzzling into his neck like a kitten.

"I really missed you too," he replied as his hand rubbed my back, warming me up.

Once we drew away from each other he leaned in and kissed me gently, my bottom lip dropping open slightly, nearly quivering as that rush between us returned once again.

"Follow me," he then said, leading me to his backyard.

He had this open yard that was hardly filled with much, just stretches of lawn and tons of shrubs and trees, like a miniature clearing of a forest, but with this cute back deck that had a built in fire pit that was already crackling. I heard music start playing from the stereo by the fire and when I heard that drum intro and the piano start up, I could feel my heart melting already.

Looks like we made it, look how far we've come my baby...

"Since when have you become so romantic," I said, turning to Zayn while he gave me a sheepish smile.

"Remember this?"

"What do you mean do I remember this? How could I ever forget when you ruined this song," I answered playfully, remembering that moment from my house in London in between our Take Me Home tour.