Back to The Beginning

“Vas happenin’?” a male voice asked, walking into the room where Simon and I were sitting.

I looked over and rolled my eyes. “Dude, have you even said that since 2012?” I asked him.

“Not as anything serious,” the man replied, taking the open seat. “Why are we here and not in rehearsal?”

“You’re here because I want to discuss choreography with you,” Simon answered. “Obviously, Liam will be watching you, and since the song has a...rather sexual meaning, I wanted to ask what you two were thinking.”

Both I and the visitor laughed. “Screw Liam’s opinion, let’s go out and do what looks good. Me and Zayn performing Pillowtalk’ll be nice revenge for him leaving his door open when he and Cheryl were making out,” I answered.

Zayn laughed. “He didn’t.”

“Oh but he did.”

Simon smiled, as did Zayn. “Great, then get yourselves to choreography,” we were instructed. “No time to waste.”

We smiled and stood, making our way out to the van, hand in hand. Zayn was already one of my best friends, despite having only known him a few days since we were just singing in the final together. It wasn’t lost on me that this was the first time he’d performed since he’d split from One Direction.

“You know, I’ve missed performing,” he told me as we climbed into the van and I rested my head on his shoulder and yawned. He laughed softly and rested his head on mine. “But I have not missed how exhausting this competition is.”

I smiled and burrowed closer into him. He was like a warm pillow, and I was ready to drop. “You’re warm,” I murmured.

“And I’m getting you coffee on the way,” he told me. “You need to be awake.”

I groaned and closed my eyes. “Fuck you.”

He laughed softly once more. “No can do, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

I flipped him off discreetly and he kissed my hair. “Love you too.”

We stopped at Starbucks, and Zayn, gentleman that he is, came in and waited in line with me, holding my hand the whole time, which was a slight inconvenience as I paid. “Dude, if you don’t let go of my hand, people are going to say we’re dating,” I said, taking my coffee and leaving the small shop.

“People are going to say that anyways,” he told me. “We’re singing Pillowtalk, and I can guarantee you that this choreography is going to include us being in each other’s extremely personal space. There are going to be dating rumors.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink, walking down the street to the dance studio. “They’re idiots. You’re very happy with your girlfriend and I’m happily single. Plus, you’re what, six and a half, seven years older than me? No way we’d work,” I answered.

“We know that, but the people that run magazines and stuff, they’ll do anything to make money. The least of which is lie about two friends,” he said sadly. “This world is great, but there’s a very large side of it that’s fucked beyond belief.”

I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder. “Liam told me as much,” I sighed. “But let me guess: the secret is not letting it get to you and focusing on the truth?”

He nodded, steering me through the door to the studio. “That’s exactly it,” he whispered.

Notes