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“The funny thing about that is, I would let you use me. If you asked me to swim, even when I can’t, I would. If you asked me to lie down and take it, I would service you with a smile. And if you told me to jump off the nearest building, I would . . . and hope that you’ll be on the ground, ready to catch me in your arms. You’re my only weakness, Liam. I only love you. The thing with Niall means nothing to me. I would give up my world to have a chance to be yours.”
You’re my only weakness, Liam. I only love you. Zayn’s words are like taking a bullet to the heart. The thing with Niall means nothing to me. And it feels like I have died on the inside. I would have given my entire life for Zayn. To make him see the light. To show him that he can be happy with someone like me . . . Someone who he made his world, and would happily give him the world if he wanted.
I don’t have to open the door to know what happens next. A clash of sloppy lips echo through the hallway. Funny. Just this afternoon it was me that Zayn was kissing. Me that was fucking him against the door.
And now it’s Liam. I should have known.
Josh was right. Why couldn’t I see it? How could I have been so blind?
Perhaps I was just blinded by love? I’m so stupid! I knew Zayn didn’t want me and now he’s in Liam’s arms, and I can hear Zayn gasp as I suspect Liam has picked him up and carried him to the bed . . . The bed I have slept in for months because Zayn was afraid to sleep alone. The same bed that I had found sanctuary in.
Zayn being in my arms was magical. I finally had someone to protect and who loves me . . . Well, loved. Or was he just playing me this whole time? That every time I make love to Niall, every time he fucks me, I’m wishing it was you . . . So he was screaming Liam’s name, not because he had caught us having sex, but he had to visualize Liam to be the one doing him, for him to orgasm. Like I was just a doll that he could use and throw aside when he was finished with me.
I should have known that I was disposable.
After all, that’s why me and Josh had broken up. I’m relieved I didn’t let Zayn in on that little secret. Josh was my first, but when things started getting serious between the both of us, he wanted to take a break to “test the waters” and “try something new.” But what does that mean? If you’re happy with the person you’re with, why try and find something better, that may not even exist? There is nothing greater than happiness, so why do people have to go out looking for happiness, when they already have it?
Unless Josh truly wasn’t happy with me? As Zayn apparently is.
Zayn could have just been up front like Josh and said that I wasn’t good enough. That I was just the pale faced, ugly looking Irish lad that even his father was too embarrassed to love. Then, it wouldn’t hurt as much as it does. I would have saved myself from the heartache. But maybe he liked prolonging my suffering. And wanted me to find them together so I would take the hint and leave him alone from now on. After all, that is why he’s been ignoring all my texts today. Right?
“Hey babe, just got to the studio with Josh. I love you.”
“It’s so boring here without you. I love you.”
“Liam must not have said anything because I’ve just seen Louis and Harry and they didn’t bring anything up about it. You’re in the clear. I love you.”
“You must be busy but just text me when you can. I want to know how you’re doing. I love you.”
“The drum solos are getting really good on Josh’s parts. He’s really getting more professional. As a drummer. Not as an adult. He’s sticking a drumstick up his nose x]. I’m missing you so text me back to put me out of my misery. ;) I love you.”
“Zayn, it’s getting late. I hope nothing bad has happened to you. I don’t know what I would do if I was to ever lose you. I love you. P.S. I’ll never get tired of saying it too much cause it’s the truth. I love you Zayn Malik! NH <3 ZM.”
“Babe we’re leaving but Josh wants to get some dinner. I’m gonna stop by his place to have some pizza and he’ll drop me off at yours so we don’t need to drive two cars tomorrow. I hope you’re feeling better. NH <3 ZM.”
“You are my world babe. I can’t wait to come home to you so we can cuddle the night away. I’ll be home in a few.”
I must have looked like such a lovesick fool sending him all those messages when he was probably spending all of that time getting shagged by Liam. The thought makes me furious, but I can’t bring myself to barge into the bedroom like a scorned lover and beat Liam to a pulp. Because even though Zayn is in there right now, with someone else . . . Well, not just someone else. With Liam. Apparently the guy that he has been in love with since the very beginning, that he didn’t have the audacity to tell me about before we began this whole love affair. I couldn’t bring myself to make Zayn’s life misery. I wanted him to still be happy.
Even when his happiness didn’t involve me . . .
I walk towards the elevator, my blushing fists shoved into my pockets, holding back their true intentions. The elevator opens and I step inside, not breaking ground. Not here. In a place I was probably never loved. Only used.
A brush of cold air runs through my flushed cheeks when I step outside into the night air, and it is then when my energy gives up and I fall to my knees, my face smacking against the pavement as my tears fell on the gray stone like rain.
* * * * *
“Who needs love?” I slurred, downing another shot of hot liquid. I had been drinking with Zayn all day inside of his flat, after my stupid excuse of a boyfriend decided that he wanted to “test the waters.” Of course, I didn’t tell Zayn the cause for all this drinking. He was just happy to oblige. After all, who would deny free alcohol and a totally bomb ass drinking partner? And it was just my luck because Zayn was also in the mood to get shit-faced.
“I know,” he slurred, raising his glass. “Me. And you. To being single forever!” He cheered, clinking his full glass of vodka against mine. “Fuck love because love is always fucking you!” bantered Zayn.
Taking another long sip of vodka, we refill and let the night take us by.
Going through our third bottle of vodka, Zayn and I are completely fucked that I can barely see the whites of his eyes. He’s staring at me on the couch, both of us in a fit of giggles. I’m not even sure what we are laughing about, but it seems that it was incredibly funny. Zayn has been rolling around the sofa, his arms holding in his guts and tears springing from his eyes. I don’t know whether the joke, or whatever it was, was funny, or because this is the most I’ve seen the raven-haired boy laughed since a long time, but I’m laughing uncontrollably with him.
Through his choked voice, he says, “You’re . . . Irish,” and Zayn bursts out again into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “You have blonde hair, blue eyes, rosy cheeks. And . . . you’re Irish!” Zayn can’t help but laugh. And it seems he was laughing at me.
All of a sudden, my laugh stopped mid-choke. Was I funny looking? Is that why Josh left me because of the way I looked? My entire demeanor had changed. I stopped laughing, my face flushed and I stared blankly ahead of me, unrequited questions coursing through my brain. Does no one love me because I’m Irish? Did my heritage, my looks, my baby face scare Josh away? Was I just not handsome enough. Say, like Zayn. He always got all the ladies and even most of the guys who were crazy for One Direction. What did Zayn have that I didn’t? What did Zayn have that I needed? To be happy . . .
Gradually Zayn’s laughs died, and he’s looking at me with a wiry expression. I was too caught up comparing myself to him, for my head to really click that, ‘oh shit, Zayn has just caught me staring at him, and he looks pissed. And not just pissed drunk.’
“What you looking at me for?” Zayn said, eyeing me out with an intense, smoldering glare. “Is it because . . . you’re Irish?” And the hard lines in Zayn’s face washed away as the answer finally hit me.
Yes. I was ugly. That is why Josh left me.
And then, I did something I’ve been keeping back since I arrived at Zayn’s flat. What had to be done and what I needed.
I cried. Not the soft cry either.
I gave into my emotions and they washed over me as a sort of cleansing, a renewal to my break-up. Josh left me because I was ugly. And that is the reason why I was going to end up alone.
Zayn’s laughter had stopped. He placed a hand on my shoulder buy I shoved it away.
“Piss off,” I sobbed, feeling the heat rise into my cheeks, and wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. I stood up, immediately feeling gravity shoving me down to my knees. I had fallen face first into the carpet, having the Persian-style rug soak in my tears. For a fact, I had thought Zayn would start laughing again, but he doesn’t.
He sunk onto the floor with me, lying down and staring into my blue eyes.
“What’s wrong, mate?” said Zayn softly, more friendly.
I shook my head. I didn’t want the most handsomest guy on the planet to pity the ugliest guy in the world. That was just sick. “No.”
“Please,” Zayn pouted his lips like a child.
I couldn’t stop myself from holding back a soft chuckle, but I still shook my head. “You’re gonna make fun of me some more,” I said, wiping away the tears.
Zayn’s face grew serious. “I swear I won’t,” he said.
I looked away from him.
Zayn grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought me back to his gaze. “Tell me.”
I sighed. “I’m ugly.” There I said it!
“Says who?” Zayn grew angry. “What’s that fuckers name and I swear I’ll find him and kick his ass!”
I couldn’t help but crack another smile. I wiped my tears and my nose with the collar of my shirt. “Says you,” I said.
Zayn looked taken aback. “Because I---,” his voice stopped and his eyes softened. “No, Ni, you’re not ugly. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. You’re really handsome and I’m,” he rambled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. There’s not filter on this,” he pointed to his mouth, “when I drink. I just say what’s on my mind.”
“And on your mind was that I’m ugly,” I said softly.
“No no no! Just that you’re Irish, which you are,” Zayn tried correcting. “I didn’t say you were ugly Niall. I would never say that about you because it’s not true. It can never be true.”
Then my voice caught in my throat again, and I cried. “Then why does no one love me?” I wallowed, thinking about my break up with Josh. That bastard! How could he just leave me like that? After all the years we spent together, out of the blue, he just wanted to “test the waters?” Fuck those words! Fuck him to pieces! I hate him so much!
“I love you,” said Zayn. I gazed into his hazel eyes and there was true sincerity there.
“As a friend . . . But I’m talking about a different kind of love. A love only two people can share.” A love I thought I had with that dumb ass drummer . . . “I don’t want to end up alone.”
Tears formed at the borders of Zayn’s eyes. Could he be feeling the same way too? Alone? Broken? Being the only single lads in One Direction. Why not change it?
I kissed him.