Reunion

Zayn POV

    It's been years since I left the band yet I still think about him. It was selfish of me I know but it needed to be done. The anorexia combined with the islamophobia and the controlling managers, it was time for me to leave. Being in One Direction was an experience to say the least, but with the pros came the cons. My body wasn't my own. It was owned by millions of fangirls worldwide and my opinion was irrelevant. My thoughts and creativity were left behind for meaningless music and photoshoots. The work was endless. While touring for one album we would be recording for another. The only thing that made it better was him, his bright smile and funny laugh, and god damn....those fucking eyes. They were endless, looking into them was like looking into a forest of green. Our relationship was secret, unknown by many. We were so good at hiding, many didn't even know we were friends. People still assume that, after the split there was minimal turmoil between the two of us. That obviously wasn't true. Splitting up from him was the hardest of all. The look of betrayal in his eyes broke me, I loved him yet I broke his heart. What kind of boyfriend was I? We haven't spoken a word to each other since then. I knew that once I left the band that meant I left the relationship. We couldn't continue our secret late night meet ups in hotels without being spotted, we both knew that. We weren't stupid. But at the time, it was either my mental health or him. I had to care more about my health and well being. It was the right thing to do. How could I give all of my love to someone when I didn't even love myself? I knew one day I would see him again, but the thought of it was too much. I drowned myself in drugs. What else was there to do? I was jobless, empty, and my meaning in life was gone. Then, mind of mine came . It helped me through the pain. Laying all of my feelings on a sheet of paper and turning it into art. THAT was what I needed. My input was never valued in one direction, the music didn't have one piece of my heart inside, mind of mine did! And it was my greatest work. The success of the album as well as the single pillowtalk was shocking. People really liked my music...and it was mine. Not some money hungry producers. Mine.

    The mind of mine album successfully secured my solo career. I was finally separate from One Direction, or so I thought. The passive aggressive comments in the interviews didn't go unnoticed by me. He was still hurt, and so was I. Leaving him was my biggest regret, but what's done is done and I had to move on. Then came Gigi. I didn't love her. I loved the thought of her. The idea that maybe there was a life without him. A life of happiness. She was stunning but not as stunning as him, not as breathtaking. She would never be him and I knew it. But I wasn't even a fan of reality, pretending was better and it always had been. Pretending that everything was okay was my specialty and I had been doing it for years. All throughout one direction I was someone else, someone fake. I just wanted to be my true self. I wanted to smoke so much fucking weed I couldn't speak, create my own art, and most importantly be with him. But I was a coward. I couldn't do it. Then came Let me. My first single that I released off of Icarus Falls, it was obviously about him. What wasn't?

Baby let me be your man, so I can love you. And if you let me be your man, then I'll take care of you. For the rest of my life. For the rest of yours. For the rest of ours.

It was a call to him, but I didn't know if he listened. I mean, why would he? I broke his heart, and I was probably his biggest regret, but it's how I felt. I loved him then and I love him now and I wasn't ready to let him go. Nevertheless, the single was a success. My second biggest single under pillowtalk, and I was so proud. (I know it wasn't his second biggest single but let me live okay) It was good enough to get me nominated and invited to the American music awards. I knew he would be there, he had to be, but I couldn't just not go. It was a huge night for me, my work was being appreciated and it was mine. No one else's. Mine. So I had to go. He was doing just as good as me if not better, but I deserved to be there just as much as him so I was going to fucking go. No matter the dirty looks or intense stares that I was prepared to get. I loved him but he resented me and I had to accept that and move on. This was my time, my era, and I wasn't going to let it go to waste.