Holy shit I have everything mapped out for this story! This story is mature and will contain mature themes obviously, and there will be a lot of tears and romance. I'm so excited for this drama! Please enjoy the first chapter of my new Ziam fic.
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I loved my job, I really did. The constant, infectious laughter and the entertainment value was out of this roof. I've truthfully had my best moments at work. However, being a preschool nurse had it's undoing. It's mind-spinning collapse that truly felt like someone had jabbed you with their finger like a piercing knife, literally and metaphorically, it seemed like someone just sat back and laughed at me most days.
And today was one of those days where I wondered what I was doing here.
"Zayn, you wanna sneak out for a ciggy?" Hunter had turned around to ask me this question, in the middle of the playground that we monitored cautiously, looking out for bullying or if a kid had accidentally shat themselves in the sand pit. We like to say to the parents who had signed their kids up to attend this preschool that the whole place was sterilized, but in reality, this place was one big walking fecal matter, it would be impossible for this place to be germ-less.
It was a quiet day, not much had happened and it was almost peaceful. We only had one little default but really it was nothing in comparison to the other stuff we've had to deal with in the past. Today seemed like one of those days where every little thing felt like someone was shoving you over the edge further. In the dawn of the morning, a mother had pulled over in her car, walking her little boy over to me in front of the gates of the school. It was a routine for parent's to hand me their kids and rush back home in their speedy cars to finally get some sleep that was truly needed for new parents, it was interesting observing. Sometimes I felt like I wasn't even conscious when I did it, signing each child in and watching them run off to their friends to do something naughty probably.
But of course it wasn't going to be that easy with these two. Marcus, (the kid with chubby cheeks and the mother that looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown whenever she let go of the child's hand), suddenly found something far more compelling strolling down the sidewalk looking for a cab hopelessly. Instead of any other pedestrian who was traveling home from a late night out from town, the man seemed vastly different from just a sleaze.
"Dad?" The small boy with a sprawl of messy curls falling around his face, found his father coming up towards him, but the problem wasn't that completely, it was the young, blonde, fit bird beside him.
The couple looked like they had a long night, the girl's sparkly dress had become ragged and uneven, holding her heels in her hand, and the boy's father had a false pair of eyelashes glued to his neck from the night prior. I forced the images of how that had even got there out of my mind, needing to get through the day without vomiting.
"M-Marcus, buddy... Hey." The man looked seriously confused, reaching forward towards the boy who held his arms out waiting for his father to pick him up off the ground. That's until the mother with crazy, blue eyes jumped out in front of the kid like a car crash, looking like a bull ready to charge a red flag. The mother of Marcus had told me numerous times that her "numb-nut of a husband couldn't figure out if he wanted to pursue the career of being a dad or a sugar daddy." She kept on telling me that she ended up having sex with him just to procreate but had eventually expected him to stick around out of guilt for the child, and instead he left her a note saying he moved out after she came home from work one evening a month pregnant. She thought we were friends after that conversation, but instead I was just the nurse and the occasional playground monitor. The petite, brunette mother looked like she was about to growl at him and the father looked like a big, stupid deer stuck in headlights, waiting to be run over with his little girlfriend.
I grabbed Marcus gently, expecting a fight between the exes. My feet marched backwards, towards the safety of the school until the mother gave me a gutless look to stay or else. That's when the fight begun, as if I was some backup for her but I was only here to do my job and listen to the occasional bitching from parents.
"What the fuck are you doing with a teenager, you pathetic piece of shit. Walking around town like a pisshead? Everyone knows you're the daddy so spot embarrassing yourself! You think wearing a scarf and getting a tattoo makes you look younger, you hipster tool?! I will sue you for child support! You fucking fuckhead, does she even know you have to take three Viagra to get it up properly? I will kill you and your bimbo. Don't even think about touching Marcus. I've got your fucking credit mate." She spat and it seemed like she couldn't even help herself from spluttering out the first thing that popped up inside of her head. My mouth dropped, watching the scene in front of me. I couldn't even help from blocking the boy's ears with my hands, as he watched his parent's argue like cats and dogs. It was almost hilarious, but verging on time-to-call-the-police hilarious. It seemed like the mother was waiting to pull out a shiv from her old Prada bag.
"Calm down, Samantha." The man vaguely responded, looking like he was ready to book it out of here. He smelt like an ocean of booze and it almost made me want to throw up just looking at him with stains across his shirt. I would be livid too if I was the mother, but I don't think any level-headed person would do this in front of their child.
The man seems to forget that he has an audience, including me and the pedestrians on the busy streets of London, mumbling vaguely to the mother of his child,
"I only take two Viagra, not three, alright? Chelsea knows, it's a hereditary problem, I can't help it. It runs in my family. I would think you'd understand out of all the people." He says quietly and defensively, and I can't help but to burst out in an astounded laugh at his pathetic excuse of being a victim over his penis. It was one of those laughs that couldn't be swallowed, it was like I had been punched in the stomach just witnessing this. The man didn't even bother caring though, and I couldn't stand around and watch the hopeless couple make a scene anymore.
I pulled Marcus away by his small shoulders, walking into the gates of the playground with a pale face of shock and a mouth hanging open. Luckily the boy had no idea what was going on, but yet, even as I walked away, I could hear another spewed out comment that sounded as if a feral cat was being mauled.
"I can't believe I had a child with you, you needle dick! You wrinkly, perverted twat! I didn't even come when I was with you! I have needs too you selfish clown!" Samantha, the mother, screamed one last time as cute, little Marcus ran off through the playground to his friends with giggles in his throat.
And that's exactly how my day begun.
So when Hunter turned around to ask me if I wanted a quick smoke outside, it was like a dream-come-true. A gift wrapped in a red slick bow being shoved onto my lap.
"What if something happens? Something always happens." I find myself saying to the boy that I sort-of-kind-of had a crush on and sort-of worked with. It was hard not to with his cute laugh and pretty eyes but I was just lonely, and confused our coworker-ship with something more. But it didn't make it any less confusing when someone as dull as me even received an ounce of attention from someone like Hunter, the popular guy around work. As pathetic as that sounds, it irked me why he bothered sticking around with someone who couldn't even keep up.
"April's got it. Come on you worry-wart." He gives me a devious smile with crinkly blue eyes, and I didn't know how little of self control I had until now. Suddenly Hunter and I were outside of the grounds, up against a brick wall sharing a cigarette that Hunter had rolled meticulously on the denim of his jeans. I missed smoking, it was too expensive to buy a packet so when someone offered to share theirs, it was like luxury. The relief was instant and I wondered if he had dusted a little more in the hand made cigarette, the thickness between my fingers and the familiar sweet smell engulfing me.
"You put pot in this didn't you?" I turned and asked him, blushing, and he laughed that adorable laugh and I was kind of swooning. I hadn't gotten any action in months apart from just tossing off in the shower feebly, but I had bigger problems than that. Being poor and not being able to pay my bills seemed my main focus rather than my snubbed libido. My heart skips a beat when he gives me a mischievous look that I loved other times except for now, feeling the air becoming heavier around me.
"Just a sprinkle, Zaynie. Couldn't hurt on a Monday. Heard about Samantha's semantics... wait... Ha, god, I'm a genius. Anyway, thank me, you're so tightly wound up it makes me think you might just burst. Need you alive, mate." He jokes around as usual and I know it's just his feigned confidence talking, but I'm too tense and repelled by the fact that he thinks this is all a laugh. I can't help but to actually speak up impulsively, which seemed so rare and unsystematic for me to do. The quiet, insecure loner who makes up lies and excuses for the absence of going out who had actually stuck up for himself. I must of had enough.
"You're an idiot, that's what you are. God damn it, Hunter, now we're going back stinking of weed to a bunch of blabbing little kids who will say just about anything that pops into their head. How can you think this is okay?" I'm pissed off, standing up when I quickly shove the joint back into his fingers with disgrace. The action feels as if we're at high school sneaking cigarettes at lunch time, like playing catch with a bomb waiting to explode at our fingertips. The affects are so undone, marijuana didn't do anything to me anymore. It just increased my anxiety but I was already such a worried person that it didn't feel any different stoned or temperate. Hunter gives me a perplexed look, taking one more puff and then stomping it out on the footpath.
"You need to chill out, man. Nothing has ever happened to me before and I do this everyday. Chill." He looks at me with that look and the more he tells me to chill, the more it unnerves me like a tree losing its roots, seconds away from falling. I feel like his pulling my hair and kicking me around when he acts as if I'm just being an exaggerating bitch. And I probably am but I didn't want to let this down even with a stoned idiot. Hunter was not an idiot though, he was just careless.
"Easy for you to say since your dad owns the place. Unlike you, this is my only income and if I don't have this, I'm one step closer to a homeless shelter. This isn't a joke, I don't have anything." I find myself saying and I can't believe I'm fighting with my boss' son and a friend of mine, all together, we didn't need to have this conversation. I wasn't like this, but suddenly the stress crept over my shoulder and I couldn't help it but to spit out my thoughts like a barking dog.
"Dude, I didn't think it would be that big of a deal, I didn't even think about it, I'm s-" He begins to ramble nervously with bloodshot eyes and suddenly a figure slides away from the shadows and has caught us in some alleyway arguing with a joint on the ground by our shoes, between us.
The figure is shadow like and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to focus, as Hunter chokes on his words and stares right into our enemy's eyes.
"You guys are screwed." And it's April, the other girl who monitors the playground with us.
Her arms are crossed and the metal in her nose seems a lot more scarier up close. Her blue hair is spun around her shoulder and she looks like she's spotted her jackpot. April was always the biggest mooch around here, always the one to tell on anyone who did the slightest wrong doing and she was off racing to the boss' office to tell him everything about it. She glares at us, ready to take out her claws and kick her feet up in relief with us standing here like fool's good, two pathetic souls bumbling around. She loves watching other people fall to their doom.
"Time for my raise, right boys?" She winks and my heart drops. She leaves as fast as she came.
Suddenly Louis and I are sat in the boss' office and the bald headed man tells us we're suspended from our jobs, and I feel myself sinking into the chair as I grip onto the arm rests feeling my fingers fade into a burning numb sensation. The weed actually sounded good right about now.
"B-But I need this job, I... I'll work double hours, I can't take a break from working. P-Please, Sir... I'm so sorry." I almost want to cry but I'm too shocked, knowing I wont be able to survive without a job for three weeks or if at all, already being drowned in bills and debt.
I want to fall to the floor and hold myself together or just run away - but I have no where to go - turn into a meaningless hermit. There's nothing I can do, this is the best paid job that I'm qualified for, and without this... I'm over. Living any life without this job was not sustainable, and I was barely making it as it is. And the thing about suspension is that there's more of a chance of someone just replacing you rather than being hired back again. The boss who is usually sympathetic of my situation looks down at his lap, and I just know April had told an amplified story about what she saw. The man can't look at us now.
"You'll finish your shift today, full pay and overtime if you want... But that's all I can do. You've broken the rules, boys, and what is done, is done. I have to stick to my rules or else no one will follow them, so please, just make this easy for yourselves out of respect for my business and learn by your mistakes." He tells us truthfully and I can't argue with that, and in the perfect timing of this whole shit-show, the phone rings and he gives us both a composed gaze. "I have to take this."
I get up from the chair without so much of another word or stare, forcing the speed in my legs to push me forward no matter how much I just wanted to stop dead in my tracks. I'm emotional and young, I need an unraveling release from this bullshit, I need to have a stable place and after all these years, I don't have one. Yet the obviousness of my actions, Hunter hand reaches out to hold my arm gently, hoping I'd stop, but I don't. My arm slips from his touch and I can feel his eyes burning into me. I'm too angry, not with him, but with myself, hating myself for letting this happen for the way it did. I pursue forward and he doesn't try to stop me.
I sit at the front desk for all the hours I can milk out of overtime, writing down data and organizing the papers sat by the chunky computer, needing to distract myself. Hunter is off somewhere, probably at home enjoying his warmth that he can afford and drinking expensive wine around his couch. I shouldn't be so cynical but I can't help it, I'm angry about a lot of things but mostly about how my life had turned out. I force the thoughts of my dreadful childhood and new-adulthood out of my head, stacking papers into files and filing out reports that had been left unfinished by my co-workers.
The sound of the bell rattling from the door sends a wave of panic through me, and I'm not sure why. It feels like someone is about to jump me and tell me I've been pranked but I know it's just wishful thinking. My hands continue working unlike my mind, but there's a pull from the door telling me to look up at the incoming person who had entered the daycare. My eyes take in the tall, lanky figure of a good looking man with dark curls tucked behind his ear, his hands patting away at his glasses in his breast pocket. He seems regal and smart in his nice navy blazer, a stack of papers in his hands as he multitasks a phone by his ear and a pin in his hand. I now understand what he is doing, placing an advertisement on the pin-board in the lobby where I sat at. He seems to be an assistant for someone wealthy with the way he carries himself. My tongue curls in my mouth, knowing it's not specifically aloud to do that here but I keep quiet, not wanting anymore trouble. My countless thoughts seem to have a bigger power than my motionless mouth, or that it was just a coincidence, because all of a sudden the flyers are falling out of his hands and flying through the air like sleets of snow.
I'm unconsciously hurrying over to the man who seemed a little older than me, his green friendly eyes taking me in as I squat down and try to pick up every paper I could reach for. He smirks as the voice of someone on his phone blares through the vacant daycare that seemed ghostly, apart from the constant elevator music that sung through the halls of this place. I take in the words of the slip, skimming through it and somehow I feel like I recognize the name that is printed across it. It's asking for a babysitter for a little boy who belonged to a man who seemed rather important, but I didn't know why I knew that name. There's loads of rich people that are famous for no apparent reason, and somehow still get covered all over the newspapers for just going to some charity. The green eyed man hangs up on the phone, tucking away his hair as I hand him the papers noting away at the words.
Maybe I was just naive but was it a sign to take down the number for the nannying job?
"Thanks, love. Why are you here so late?" The amiable man with a nice smile asks me speedily and I blush, not knowing how to sum up that I was pretty much shit out of luck and needed any ounce of money I could get my hands on. But somehow I felt like I had to impress the guy. He stares at me with an unfair amount of kindness and I wonder what it'd be like to not have to stress about money, what it'd feel like buying a nice piece of clothing and not having to rely on the thought of, 'Well, I could always be a stripper..." because who the fuck would want to see me strip anyway? As a joke maybe, but then it hits me, my life really is a joke. It really wouldn't be any less dignifying than where I was at now, poor and loveless, scrapping two pennies together in hopes of something great to happen knowing it never will.
"Need all the overtime I can get, looks like I wont be working here anymore." I say briefly, and his eyes flash with a sense of sympathy and I wish I wasn't a character to be so pitiful of. But I hope I hadn't scared him off with this information, needing all chances and odds on my side just for a second in my life. I play with my hands and the green eyed man pats my shoulder softly.
"Its so late, honey, you look tired. You know what, why don't you try for an interview for this babysitting job? You seem like you'd be completely qualified for the job, love. Doesn't hurt to try, right? He's the sweetest little boy ever, and the pay is brilliant. I always see you when I come in here and wonder how on earth you do this, being so young 'n all. Here," He hands me the paper and clutch it in my hands, taking in the countless words on the very professional looking piece of paper. His rush of words cause a wave of unexpectedness run through me. He's bold and straight to the point.
"I'd probably be one in a million to get this job, right? Everyone would want this job." I try not to sound so doubtful but I am, and I'm sick of being disappointed, truthfully.
"Yes, but it is hard to find a good nanny through the sea of people we interview. A lot of people just want to do it to meet my boss instead of looking after his child, but I have a good feeling about you. Whats your name, sweetheart? I'll put your number into my phone so I know who you are when you give me a call." He pulls out his phone and hands it to me and I wonder what kind of joke this is. No way I'd get a job for some rich Elite's kid, there is no way someone like me who cant even pay rent and afford hot water would get a job like this. I'm in a daze, as the phone blares into my eyes.
"Y-You don't have to do this for me." I stutter, my lips quirking into a shy smile that says, 'I'll understand if you snatch your phone out of my hands right now,' but he doesn't seem to falter.
"Don't be ridiculous! Go on. If you can work here, you can work anywhere, right?" He shoves the phone closer to me in my hands and I begin to type out my name and number into his contacts. I hand it back to him and he gives me a toothy smile, tucking his phone into his back pocket telling me I had a nice name so that I blush some more, my hands becoming clammy with the paper in my grasp.
Something good is happening.
"I don't even know how to thank you, no one has ever done that for me before. Thank you so much." I repeat nervously, smiling widely at him, hugging my wrist to myself and he searches my face like he's ticking away boxes in his brain. I wonder what he's thinking about me, my insecurity whispering to me that he's just judging the hell out of my position. But I try to fight those thoughts away even though almost everyone did it unintentionally, it was a very British thing to do.
"I'll be thanking you if you're my boss' new nanny seriously, we've seen people come and go. We've never seemed to have found the perfect one yet though, but I have faith in you. You seem like a sweet kid who is very determined. Listen, if its just between me and you, the job is amazing, you would be living in his house and not have to worry about a thing, so please don't bail out on it because you think you might not get it. I'm going to look out for you, you're the only one who hasn't asked too many questions."
"Am I dreaming?" I ask honestly, scratching the back of my neck nervously wondering how on Earth this had fell on my lap after all the shit that had spiraled through the hurricane of the day. I wonder if this would be all different if Hunter took my spot instead in this situation, if he'd end up getting an acquaintance with someone who seemed important to know. The tall man's loud laugh rings through me as he gives my arms a soft squeeze, reassuring me in a way. "How did this happen?" I found myself saying aloud, under my breath and his phone starts to buzz through his pocket. He lets go of my shoulder, walking away with his folder of papers as I stand utterly confused, he waves me off as he takes out his phone. I watch after him in my spot as he's charming flamboyant ways blows me a kiss from the exit, opening his mouth to say one more thing.
"Call me tomorrow, Zayn, I'm going to tell my boss all about you! Oh, and I'm Harry by the way, it's on the sheet! See ya."
And he's gone and I feel like I just might faint.