Plie

Zayn POV

"I'll come in tomorrow." I growled into the phone.
I could feel my anger rising red hot in my chest. I was sick of all the phone calls and urging I had gotten from the record company. Didn't they get that I wanted to lay low for a little while. I wanted a break from all the stress the tour had put on me physically and emotionally. They were bugging me about the lyrics and tracks for my first solo album that they were planning on releasing the next. With 11 months to go I was wondering why it was pressing that I pick out the songs right that second.

I eyed the tall skyscrapers around me lifting my eyes to see the tops of them. I had come to New York to get away from it all. I figured it was easier to lose myself in a crowd of a million people, especially when they wouldn't be looking for me here. Hanging up my phone I pushed my way through the crowds. It felt like everyone was heading the opposite direction than I was.

The dank smell of rain permeated my nose as I finally reached a small pocket of space underneath an under-hang. Hanging up the phone I stuffed it angrily into my pocket. New York was dirtier than I had thought. I didn't know what I'd been expecting though, something like the movies probably. I scanned the streets trying to think about how to get back to the hotel. I could fight the crowds the 12 blocks or I could use the underground .

Not in the mood to use my elbows any further I headed quickly down the steps. Music echoed through the tunnels. A man set strumming a battered guitar singing a slow song. His case was set out in front of him filled more with litter than money. Stopping for a second I threw a five into his case giving him a nod.

"God Bless sir." His raspy voice echoed through the tunnel.
I just gave him a nod going on my way. The stench of urine was coming up from the floor and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what all the dark spots were on the concrete. Paying for my ticket I made my way to the landing platform blasting music through my ears. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone on the platform. I was relishing in just being alone. I checked the board above the platform tapping my foot when the numbers glared five minutes at me.

I'd never been a very patient person. I preferred doing what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it instead of waiting around for someone to tell me what to do. Some people called it being impulsive I just called it initiative. The time seemed to stretch on for forever the numbers slowly counting down. By the time the train arrived I was beginning to think I should have walked.

Dodging people I made my way towards the center of the car. Spotting a girl exiting the seat I went to sit stopping when I saw something on the seat. They appeared to be a pair of shoes, with ribbons streaming out the top.
"Excuse me!" I called after her but she'd already slipped out the door leaving a flash of golden hair and a whiff of flowery perfume behind her.

I examined the shoes in my hands. Upon second glance they were ballet shoes, pointe shoes by the look of them. My sister had a pair like them from her dancing phase that had lasted several years. I considered briefly what to do with them. The girl was gone and in a city with a million people the chances of finding her again were improbable. But part of me noticed the little details, the patches sown into the toes and the fact that they were well loved. Shaking my head I stuffed the shoes into my backpack losing myself to my music again.

Notes

So here's my new story. I'm rather excited for this one :) I probably won't be able to update every day but I'll update when I can. Let me know what you think!

-Abby