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Liars Are The Most Fun

12

Harry's P.O.V.

I've never seen Zayn like this before. He's so...determined. Zayn and I are so different in that aspect. I care about everything so much. Too much, even. To the point that it gets me in trouble. Zayn, on the other hand, almost cares too little. Everything is nonchalant with him. It's always just "whatever." The rest of us stress over the tours and paparazzi and publicity, but with Zayn it's like none of that really matters in the scheme of things. He knows that it's all minute bullshit but the rest of us can't quite seem to grasp that concept. I know it hurts Perrie. I know she wants Zayn to care about her the way that I so fiercely care for Louis, but he just doesn't. I've always thought it was just impossible for Zayn to be passionate about something. I just left it to him being and laid back, chill person - so he just lacked the emotion to get that worked up about anything. But here, with this mystery girl he's only just met, Zayn really cares. It's honestly weird to see him caring about something other than cigarettes.

I like it.

Which I guess is why I agreed to look through every fucking bar in London to find her.
We'd been through twelve different bars when I had about had it.
"Zayn, it's 3 in the morning. I am so tired. Can we please just look through one more? Please?"
I had asked him this four times now, and each time he said no.
But now, I could see a tinge of defeat in his eye, and I almost regretted asking him this time.
"Yeah, Haz. This'll be the last one."
I nodded, and we walked through the entrance of the bar.

Why are all these bars so damn dark? Seriously? How hard is it to install a few lightbulbs? Within a few minutes, I lose Zayn in the crowd and decide to do what I've been doing this whole time - drink and stand at the bar worthlessly. I order a beer and take a seat in hopefully the last bar I'll have to enter in tonight.

Zayn's P.O.V.

I know Harry's getting impatient, and honestly so am I. Which is why I was just half-heartedly strolling through the crowded floor of the bar when I saw a familiar smirk and a pair of bright green eyes across the way. I immediately stopped dead in my tracks. She looked even more stunning than I remember, and I barely remembered how to breathe. Of course, she was shamelessly flirting with some older guy, no doubt trying to score some kind of drug for the night.
I see the man hand her a small bag with powder in it just as she makes eye contact with me. I see a look I couldn't quite decipher sweep over her face, but before I have time to process it, her usual smirk is back. She immediately saunters over to where I am.
"Didn't get enough last night, Zayn?"
I freeze as she inches her face closer to mine. Her pupils are dilated and she has an air of confidence about her. She's clearly on something.
"Looking for round 2?"
Her face is an inch away from mine as she says this. All I can manage is to stammer out,
"Yes of course."
She lets out a condescending huff and moves her face away from mine.
"Great. Let's get started then."
"Wait. Promise me you'll go home with me tonight?"
She looked at me for a long time. I had no idea what she was thinking which was endlessly frustrating and endlessly fascinating. I can read everyone so well except for this one goddamn girl. What is she thinking? What is she ever thinking?
"Ok, Zayn. I'll go home with you. I promise."
After that, I didn't care what drugs she made me try or what was going to happen tonight. All I cared about was at the end of it, I was taking her home with me.

****

"GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED, MALIK."

Holy shit. So. Much. Pain. My head was throbbing uncontrollably, and my vision was blurred when I see Harry come storming into my room.
"Mmf what time is it?" I groan.
"IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO START EXPLAINING TO ME WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT."
"Harry, calm down, and please stop yelling."
To be honest, I didn't even know what happened last night. The last thing I remember is Michelle promising to come home with me last night. Holy shit. She promised she'd come home with me.

I immediately sit up and start looking around my room. I look next to me on the bed and see a small piece of paper. "I had fun last night. xx Michelle" Dammit! I can't believe I let her go again. And what the hell did we do? I immediately become aware of how naked I am. I'm wearing only boxers, and I start going over the possibilities when Harry interrupts my thoughts.
"I went looking for you in the last bar we went to and I finally find you doing some pills with some random girl in the bathroom and you tell me to go home?! What the fuck Zayn?! Are you doing drugs now?!! What is happening to you??"
"Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm not 'doing drugs.' I just...did drugs. Twice. It was the only way to get Michelle to talk to me. I couldn't pass that up."
I don't know if it was the plea in my voice or the sad puppy look in my eye, but suddenly Harry's expression softened.
"It's okay. Just... please don't do it again. I know what they do to people."
"I promise. I won't."
"Well, what happened with Michelle?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure. She came home with me, but I don't really remember anything else..."
"Shit, Zayn. Did you cheat on Perrie?"
"Oh rubbish Harry. You know as well as I do that Perrie and I are nothing. We are a publicity stunt and nothing more. She wouldn't even care if I "cheated" on her."
A flicker of pain stretched across Harry's face for a moment, and I was unsure why, but before I could ask, he told me he had to go meet Louis and scurried out of my room.
I laid back down and desperately tried to remember last night's events but could recall almost nothing. I knew I had to find Michelle again, but I was too tired and hungover to think about going back out tonight. Instead, I decided to go back to sleep and figure out the rest once I woke up. As soon as my head hit my pillow, I drifted into a restless, dissatisfying sleep. I dreamed of Michelle. I dreamt of her green eyes, her arrogant smirk, her perfect body. I dreamt of her and of nothing else.