You are at your concert rehearsal. Tomorrow is the big night, your band Forever One, (A/N: I was actually in a little band called that heh) would be your boyfriend Zayn and his band mates opening act in the first show in their world tour. When you woke up this morning you weren’t feeling too good and Zayn knew that, you brushed it off though and pretended you were fine. The time for you to go up on stage and perform for the boys and Lou who is also your bands stylist is here and you are definitely sick, nauseated gives a better picture of it. You take the microphone in one of your shaky hands, everything feels so cold all of a sudden. With a shiver you make your entrance with your other two band mates, looking over the ‘crowd’ you begin to sing the first verse of the song. The others girls start to do their dances but you stand still, a feeling of uneasiness overcomes you. The girls finish singing their part and look at you, but you don't sing or dance or even move; “(y/n), That's your part, love,” You hear your producer (A/N: I'm not quite actually sure what these people are called.. the people that help with writing the song and yeaaa i think I’m right though) say from off stage. Dropping the microphone, you vomit all over the stage, earning a few disgusted gasps. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, not even looking up to the footsteps coming closer to you. “(y/n), Are you okay? Aw, Babe,” He says softly to you, pulling you off the stage and sitting you down on his lap. You lay your head on his chest and breath in his so familiar scent, that you happen to adore. “Can we get a bottle of water over here?” Zayn calls out to anyone willing enough, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you. “We can go home and cuddle until you feel better, okay,” Zayn says in your ear softly, opening the water that was brought for you.
“Sounds good,” You smile weakly up at him and take a sip of the water.