𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑...

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀

𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡

The sun bleeding through the windows hit me square in the face. I blinked up at the ceiling like I didn't know where I was for a second, but I did. My own bed. My own sheets.

There was a girl curled up beside me. Her limbs tangled in the white sheets. I couldn't even remember her name.

I sat up, dragged my hand over my face, and got out of bed as quietly as I could. I wasn't in the mood for morning talk. I wasn't in the mood for anything really.

Barefoot, I headed downstairs. The penthouse was spotless but heavy. This morning of mine had almost become a routine, as if my life was on autopilot these last few months. Every movement felt mechanical.

I walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, closed it again. Nothing I wanted. I stood there for a minute, leaning against the counter, staring out the window to see the view.

The view of L.A. was bright and cloudless which is complete contrast to what I'm feeling.

There were footsteps behind me, slow and hesitant. She appeared, the girl from last night, her hair a mess, her dress hanging off her like it didn't quite belong to her anymore. She held one heel in her hand, the other half-strapped to her foot.

"Hey." She said softly. "Didn't know if I should, uh... stay or go."

I didn't know what she wanted from me. Didn't know if I could give her anything.

"You can go." I said, not mean, just flat. Honest.

Her eyes lingered on me for a beat longer, searching for something, a sign, a gesture, maybe. But I had nothing to offer.

She nodded once then she turned, slipping into the elevator without another word.

I felt like a douche. I was a douche. But it's a better thing for her than it is for me. It would've been painful. A slow, suffocating kind of small talk, where every word felt more like a lie. A conversation that would kill her before it would kill me.

I learned it the hard way when this routine started.

It wasn't the wisest idea to call up another girl the night of the phone call, but I'm not a wise guy, so what else was I supposed to do?

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't apologize." I replied, though there was a sharpness to my tone. I wasn't angry, not really, well not at her at least, but it was hard to hide the bitterness. "I don't want your apology. I just want you to be happy. If this is what you need, then I'll accept it."

The words came out before I could stop them. I wasn't even sure if I meant them.

The silence between us stretched longer than it should've, thicker than it had any right to be. I couldn't tell if it was because we had nothing left to say or if we both had too much to say.

I was about to hang up, about to let the call die, but then, it was her voice that broke the silence.

"Okay then... bye, Zayn."

And then, with a sharp breath, I ended the call. I didn't even give myself a moment to think about it. The second the call ended, I was already scrolling through my contacts, searching for the next distraction, the next face that could pull me away.

It's pretty shameful to admit. I probably won't admit this to anyone other than Harry, Liam, Niall, or Louis, but here it is: I've been living like a fucking mess.

Having a new girl in your bed every night? That's not something you should be flaunting. Hell, it's not something you should be doing, period.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, letting my head fall back, staring up at the ceiling as if I could somehow pull answers from the white plaster above me. But there were no answers. Not here.

Of course not you idiot.

The phone on the counter buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. I reached for it without thinking, seeing Liam's name flashing on the screen. I sighed, knowing this was probably going to be another one of those "you need to get out" calls.

I hesitated for a second before picking it up. I didn't feel like talking to anyone.

But it was Liam.

"Yo." I answered, voice flat, not even trying to hide it.

"Zayn, you good, mate?" His voice was steady, but there was an underlying concern I couldn't ignore. Liam was one of the few people who could tell when something was off, even when I tried to play it cool.

"I'm fine." I lied. "Just tired."

"Right," he said, unconvinced. "You wanna grab lunch? Louis and I are down at that new place on Sunset. It's a bit quiet. Thought it might be good to get out of your head for a bit."

I glanced at the clock, my head snapping up in surprise, lunch time already? Damn I slept in.

"Yeah, I'll come." I muttered, shrugging it off. "Give me a minute."

I didn't need much time to get ready. I was already wearing the same clothes I had on last night, and I didn't give a shit enough to change.

But then again... maybe I should.

I ran a hand through my hair, catching my reflection in the mirror near the elevator. My eyes looked dull. Shadowed. Like I hadn't slept in days even though I just woke up. I hadn't shaved in a while either, didn't matter. The mess matched the mood.

I turned back into the bedroom. The sheets were twisted from the night before, faint traces of perfume in the air. I yanked off my shirt, tossed it on the floor, and went for something clean.

I shrugged on my jacket since it was fall in Los Angeles, checked my phone, no new messages, no missed calls. Not that I was expecting any.

The elevator dinged, echoing through the penthouse like a warning bell. I grabbed my keys off the counter and headed toward it, running my tongue over the inside of my cheek.

The ride down was quiet. My reflection in the elevator wall was the only company, and even that felt like a stranger.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

I spotted Liam first, he was always easy to pick out. Clean lines, posture straight. Across from him sat Louis, slouched so far back in the booth he looked like he might slide right under the table.

I dropped the cigarette, crushed it beneath my shoe, and made my way over.

"Look alive." Louis called as I approached. "Or at least pretend you didn't just crawl out of the grave."

"Fuck off." I muttered, rolling my eyes as I slid into the booth beside Liam.

"Louis is right, You look like shit." Liam said, not unkindly. Just stating facts.

"Appreciate the honesty." I replied, grabbing the menu but not really reading it.

"We were gonna order, but figured we'd wait," Louis said. "Didn't want you to miss out on the thrill of deciding between eggs or some overpriced kale bowl."

"Tempting." I snorted under my breath. "Coffee's fine."

Liam flagged down the server. "Three coffees, thanks. And bring him whatever pastry looks like it's been through hell, he'll relate."

I shook my head, lips twitching into a smile despite myself.

The coffee arrived quick. I wrapped both hands around the mug, letting the heat sink into my fingers.

"Which girl was over this time?" Louis said as he leaned forward slightly, watching me over the rim of his cup.

I didn't answer right away. Just stared into the dark swirl of coffee, like maybe it would answer for me.

"No one special." I said eventually, voice flat. "Don't even remember her name."

Louis whistled under his breath. "Cold."

"She knew what it was." I shrugged.

Liam didn't say anything, but I could feel the weight of his eyes on me. He always looked like he was one second away from trying to fix everything. Good intentions. Bad timing.

"You know that's not sustainable, right?" He said finally, careful with his words.

"Didn't realize I was in the market for sustainability." I replied.

They exchanged a look across the table, the kind of look you only pull when you know your friend is full of shit but you don't want to push too hard. I appreciated it, even if I hated that I needed it.

After a beat, Louis changed the subject. "You see Mirielle's drop?"

I tensed.

Like that was supposed to make me feel any better.

I caught Liam placing his head in his hands, shaking it slowly. He probably realized, too late, that bringing her up was a mistake, especially around me.

I glanced up, fingers tightening slightly around the mug.

Louis muttered a quiet "sorry" to Liam after Liam shot him a sharp look, then turned to glance at me.

"It's fine." I cut in before either of them could say anything else. My voice came out flatter than I intended, too fast to sound believable.

Louis shifted in his seat, suddenly fascinated with the crease in his napkin while Liam just looked down at the table.

"It was a clean drop," Liam said eventually, gently. "I liked it."

Louis nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't even sure she'd keep Mirielle going after the hiatus."

My lips folded inward as I bit back the words I wanted to say, words I knew I'd regret.

The truth was, I didn't think she'd keep Mirielle going either. Not after the way everything exploded.

Not after he blew it up.

Devin cheated and somehow, she was the one who paid for it. Not him. He wasn't the one who had to disappear off the internet, she was.

Devin wasn't the one getting torn apart by the mistress, she was.

I inwardly rolled my eyes at the thought of the tweets.

July was a disaster for the media, no doubt about that.

"You guys ever talk to Devin?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it, pulled straight from the mess in my head.

"After the shit he pulled with you? Hell no," Louis said without hesitation, shaking his head.

Liam let out a low hum of agreement, and I gave a small nod in response. I didn't doubt they'd cut ties, but hearing it out loud settled something in me. At least Devin didn't get off the hook with everyone.

Liam shifted slightly, tapping his fingers on the table. "He's a mess, Zayn. And we both know it. Doesn't matter how much he tries to repair his image or how many apologies he hands out."

"And yet, somehow, he still manages to make headlines. It's the way the world works, mate. If you've got the right connections, you get a free pass." Louis snorted.

I didn't say anything to that. I just stared into my coffee. It was hard to avoid the thought of how easily someone like Devin could manipulate their way back into the good in people's eyes, while someone like her, someone who deserved better, had to pay the price for it.

"So, what's the deal with you, then?" Louis asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You going to keep hiding out in here, or are you planning to, I don't know... actually live?"

"What does that even mean, Lou?" I rolled my eyes, not ready for this conversation

"You know what I mean. Stop shutting yourself off from everything. It's getting old."

I was about to reply when the server brought the pastries, a mix of overpriced croissants and the type of bread that was probably more air than dough. The smell of it made my stomach growl, though I wasn't sure if I was actually hungry or if I just wanted to eat something to avoid what Louis was going to say.

Liam pushed the plate towards me with a raised brow. "I mean, come on. You can't survive on coffee alone."

I picked at a croissant, breaking off a piece but not really eating it. My mind wandered back to the mess of last night, the endless cycle I'd been trapped in for months.

It was all because of her.

And I resented her for it.

I couldn't even say her name. That's how bitter I feel.

But then, every time someone said something bad about her, every time she was dragged online or thrown under the bus, I wanted to jump to her defense. Every damn time.

Because in the back of my mind, the memories of us kept flashing in and out like static. And no matter how hard I tried to resent her, I couldn't. Because deep down, I knew, it was always my fault.

"My music career is taking off and... I'm just not looking for anything serious right now."

Biggest fucking mistake I've ever made.

But that was us. Torn apart, pulled back together. Over and over again. Like gravity because we're never truly over.

Only, this time... I wasn't so sure.

No, I was positive.

"Zayn!"

I flinched, snapping out of it. Liam was way too close to my face, his brows drawn tight with concern. I jerked back, blinking at him like he'd just come out of nowhere.

"At this point just text her mate." Louis groaned, throwing his hand up looking like he was totally done.

"What?" I said, pinching my eyebrows together. "What?"

"What? What?" Louis mocked me which made me pull a face of disgust. "You're moping around every fucking day. How about you try to get closure this time."

I glared at Louis, half-annoyed, half-exposed. "You make it sound like I'm crying into my pillow every night."

"You basically are," he said, deadpan. "Except instead of a pillow, it's random girls and whiskey."

I thought about it for a second then realized that this wasn't just affecting me, this was affecting the people around me as well.

I'd been selfish.

Dragging this pain around like some badge of honor, like it made me more real or more tortured or more something.

And worse than that, it made the people who actually gave a shit about me start to drift.

I looked at them, both of them now then took a breath.

"Fine."

I was texting her because silence was starting to feel worse than the truth.

©𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞