Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

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(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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We're after the same rainbow's end.

Frank Sinatra | Moon River

After the show, he had somehow convinced me to come down to his green room and meet his immediate crew, which consisted of his manager, his photographer, and the band. No one else would be there, he promised. All of his other friends had left for the evening, and he'd made plans to meet up with a few later. Xander and his brother and even Camille were among them. He assured me he had broken up with her months ago, though, shortly after I'd showed up to his place drunk. Apparently they were only good friends now. He invited me along to hang with them at a bar after the show, but I declined, not wanting to tempt fate since we had made it this far unscathed. Still, I accepted the offer to meet his band, and he assured me none of them would mention they'd ever met me that night. They were all in his strictest confidence and I had no reason to worry. Trying to be more trusting because he had done so much for me tonight, I let him guide me by a hand on the small of my back to meet his people.

"Guys, guys...listen up," he called out to the room "I'd like you to meet a very good friend of mine, with perhaps some of the most exquisite God-given cheekbones you've ever seen—" I elbowed him in the ribs because he was embarrassing me. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet the one, the only...Mr. Zaynnnn Malikkkkk."

"Hi...hi everyone, youh alright?" I said, waving awkwardly. Adam was the first to approach me with a firm handshake and a massive grin.

"We've met before a longgg time ago, but I don't expect you to remember. It's great to see you again, man."

"Noh, noh, I do remember! London, right? His place? 2013?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"Gud to see youh again, broh."

"Hi." A brunette bird approached me next, and I recognized her as the drummer, Sarah.

"He's a huge fan of you," Haz interjected.

"This is true," I smiled, shaking her hand. "You're pretty badass." She thanked me shyly and we talked briefly about how the world needed more female drummers since it was typically viewed as such a masculine role, and I let her know I was specifically looking for a female drummer for my band as well. Haz told me I couldn't have her and snatched her away. Helene was next, and she was a tiny adorable blonde with a vague accent. She said she'd heard so much about me she could write a book. She offered to take my photo but I thought it wouldn't be such a good idea. Harry assured me it would never get out and grabbed me from behind, locking my arms at my side. He got her to snap it while I was trapped and looking worse for wear. Laughing and shoving him away, I turned to meet Mitch and he was just as quiet and awkward as Sarah had been, and I thought they made an adorable couple.

They all called him "H" and had tons of inside jokes and funny anecdotes from their few years together, mainly regarding drunken exploits in different countries and how he talked about me nonstop. He of course denied this in my presence and threatened to fire them all if they didn't 'can it'. They reminded me a lot of he and I and the boys, always ribbing each other and taking the piss. Always safe in our little bubble, wreaking havoc backstage before and after a show. Lou especially.

I observed Haz as he moved among them, a faint, bemused smile crossing my face. Noticing he seemed like a different person in front of his crew. So unlike the calm, unassuming, alienated guy of the 1D days, or even the bubbly, sexy dork I got most of the time back home. Amongst them he was naturally in control, quite confident, quite fun-loving and creative, super fair and magnanimous, and of course universally adored. What I noticed above all was that he was king. This was his dominion he had built from the ground up, and now he got to reap the spoils of his well-fortified multi-million dollar operation. This mans wasn't taking the backseat to anybody, including me. He wasn't being interrupted or talked over anytime he spoke, neither was he being teased about the pace at which he articulated himself, and he was no longer trying to conform to a certain look or accept someone else's narrative for his life. He was well and truly reaching his final form, and I felt weirdly like a proud dad.