Zayn's P.O.V

"It's 6:23 in the fucking morning, and I'm already fucking awake."

This is the first thought that runs through my head this morning. And almost every other morning. I finally wake up after hitting snooze around seven times, and then I think about how much I'd rather be asleep for the next forty minutes until I can finally get my morning cigarette. This is my daily routine, and it pretty much has been for the past three years. It's exhausting to be honest. I start to think about how exhausted I am when I take a drag off my morning cig, and then my mind finally quiets.

I don't even remember when I started smoking. I just know that one day I tried it, and then out of nowhere I'm here and smoking half a pack a day. It makes me feel something. And I like that. I like the way it loosens my tense muscles and clears my mind. I like the way it smells and the way it tastes. Most of all, I like that everyone else hates it. It makes me feel in control. And I desperately need to be in control of something.

Don't get me wrong. My dreams have absolutely come true. I'm rich and famous for God's sake! But being rich and famous comes with a price - my freedom. Every day is the same. Interview. Concert. Interview. Paparazzi. Advertisement. Awards show. Etc. Everything is always for publicity, for show, for someone else. Everyone always wants something from me, and honestly I'm running out of things to give. Nothing is real anymore, and I'm just so fucking tired of i-

"Zayn! Come down from your own little world and get your ass in here!" Harry calls playfully from the steps leading up to our London apartment. He's wearing that charming, dimply grin that somehow always manages to cheer me up. At that, I push aside all my previous thoughts, put out my cigarette, and half jog up the stairs to the opening of our place.

Harry and I moved in together a little over a year ago. I'm not even sure why. We can afford our own places, sure. But something about having him under the same roof as me was too comforting to pass up. Plus, it's helpful with me here because it allows Louis and him to be together constantly without the public getting too suspicious. They've been a couple since the X factor, and management still makes them keep it a secret. Fucking bastards. But it doesn't seem to bother Harry or Louis too much, and they're beyond happy so I try my best to let it go. Speaking of which, as if on cue, Louis comes bouncing up the steps right as I'm about to go in.

"Hey, mate!"
"Hi, Louis"
"How's Perrie doing?"
"She's fine."
"Been planning the wedding?"
"Not sure. I've been trying to avoid it at all costs though."
I shrug, and Louis looks at me with a hint of concern, but before he can say anything, I turn toward my room. By the time I lay in bed, I hear playful giggling coming from Harry's room and know that Louis has already forgotten about our conversation.

I'm just fucking bored.

The boys and I have an interview in a few hours for some talk show, but other than that, I'm actually free for the rest of the evening. And I fucking want to go out. I get out my phone and type out a text: "Hey boys, I'm going out tonight. Who's with me? x." I hit send, throw my phone, and then decide I'd better start getting ready for another goddamn interview.

***

The interview's over quickly, thank god. And I decide I have just enough time to get some dinner before meeting the lads to go out. I grab a quick bite from McDonalds (not the healthiest choice, I know) and start heading home.

When I get back to the apartment, everyone's already there and ready to start drinking. Niall seems particularly eager, "I'm getting hammered tonight! WOOOO! I can't fucking wait!" We all laugh and then decide we'd better get going.

The first club we go in is already a shit show, and I immediately make my way through the crowd to get to the bar. "I'll take six shots of tequila!" I scream at the bartender. Somehow she hears me and brings me my shots. I then take all of them right there one right after the other. Tonight is gonna be a good fucking night.

I start to feel the effects in about 20 minutes. I love feeling buzzed. It immediately makes me crave fresh air and more importantly, a cigarette. I step outside and the cold, London air feels amazing inside my lungs. But I really needed a goddamn cigarette. I start to panic when I realize I forgot mine at home until I begin to look around me and see her. By the corner of the building, I see a girl smoking alone. Her hair is disheveled, her makeup is smeared, and her outfit is a little out there to say the least, but even after all that, she is stunning. So stunning that I found myself unable to look away from her. She was the kind of girl that goes completely unnoticed in every day life, but then when she wants to be seen, there'll be no forgetting her. And I just wanted to talk to her. I needed to talk to her.

I decide it has to be done. And so, I start to approach this incredibly alluring mystery girl.

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