The Love I Gave

Chapter 5

FOUR is out now and everyone is happy.

The fans are excited for more music,

The boys are excited to tour,

The band is on cloud 9.

Zayn though,

Well Zayn feels like he's at the bottom of the ocean.

Because while he wanted to go home, he wants to go home, he was still excited for the album.

He wrote some songs for it. He spent all night working with their band and recording in the studio and while it was draining and tiring, he walked out of there with songs that were his words.

Songs he was proud of.

When management showed them the songs that were picked for the album, Zayn tried his best not to look disappointed.

Because not one of his songs were picked.

Not a single fucking one.

And Zayn knows, he knows, that his music is a little bit different, it doesn't fit the boyband aesthetic. He knew that going into the studio and that's why he changed the songs so they would fit better.

But it still wasn't enough.

"These are the songs for the album, good work guys. I'm proud of you guys for really getting involved with the writing process this time," John's smiling and looks at the lads with such delight.

He's not looking at Zayn though.

'I'm not even included anymore' he thinks. 'They act like I'm not even here.'

Champagne is opened and poured in fancy expensive glasses for everyone. Zayn scrunch's his nose at the champagne like it insulted him and waves it off as an assistant tries to hand it to him.

And they celebrate.

It's not any celebration Zayn's used too because it's just a bunch of rich people in suits talking about how much of a hit this is going to be. The "records" it will break and "awards" it will win.

Times like this make Zayn miss home more.

Eventually though, the "party" ends and everyone slowly exits the meeting room.

"Question John," Zayn says. He doesn't leave any room for argument in his voice because he wants to be told, to his face, why they didn't pick any of his songs.

"Figured you'd want to talk," John mutters.

"Yah well I just figured I should get this over with," he keeps his eyes locked on his. "Was there a problem with my songs?"

"They were good, but we need great," he says point blank. "To much R&B, to much, I don't know what you call those runs but there out of pitch."

How the hell this man is in the music business Zayn will never fucking understand.

He wants to get into an argument about how those "runs" aren't usually played in Eastern music. He wants to point his finger in John's face and scream at him that he knows nothing about music or how it's played around the world.

But John does this all the time.

He's trying to get Zayn mad, to distract him for the real issue.

"And?" At the start of this Zayn swore he wanted to hear the answer, but now, now he's not sure if he can bare it.

John sighs.