records {z.s.}

8.

That afternoon, Zayn was sitting down in his own small bed in his own small room in his own small house. Everything had seemed so dreary after leaving the vibrant and bright lights of the Horan House.

Zayn felt dreary.

His room was grey, his clothes were grey, his mood was grey. He missed his friends.

His little sister attempted to cheer him up with a stupid little game of go-fish which she made up her own rules. In her world, she did things the way she wanted them to go. Zayn respected this trait, he wanted her to grow up and have her own expectations, sticking up for herself but of course never to get hurt. He loved his sisters to pieces, they were usually always there for him, and he could never ever let them get hurt.

He played through Safaa's adorable attempt to make Zayn happy, though it did not work. He still felt empty of his new friends. At this, he realized himself as clingy. He scribbled a quick mental note into his brain only to remind himself of this whenever his never-to-come Prince Charming emerged from his own darkness.

+++

It was Saturday, Zayn thought.

Saturday.

He quickly bolted from his bed spread and out into the light of the hallway. He could not go this week without a new record from the small shop.

"Mummy?" Zayn whispered before realizing she would never be able to hear him. He sauntered into his mum's bedroom, only to find an empty bed with a black-screened TV.

He then made his way into their small kitchen to find his mum chopping green peppers at the marble countertop.

"Mummy?" He spoke quietly, but loud enough for her to reply with a "hmm?"

"Mummy, I never got to go to the store this week."

"Zaynie, sweetheart, you hate the grocery store, you always comment how 'annoying and horrific' some of the people are, which, I would hope no one else's kid says that."

Zayn just rolled his eyes with a huff and whispered out to her, his voice slightly squeaking in the process, "mum, not the grocery store, the record store." He crossed his arms in annoyance but waited patiently for her reply.

"Oh, honey, dear, I completely forgot! You were at your friend's and it just slipped my mind considering you never bickered about it to me."

"Well, can you please take me?"

"No, sweetums, I'm attending a party with a fair woman named Anne later tonight, and I have to finish a healthy dinner for you and your sisters. I simply will not have you eating garbage!" Zayn's mom was tinted red in the cheeks from speaking so much, her mind completely off of the subject.

"Mum, first of all, I am seventeen years old and in twelfth grade.. I do not need you treating me like a kid, and second of all, I have to go to the records store, please!" Zayn pleaded with his hands crossed in front of him.

"Absolutely not, I will take you tomorrow if I have to, but this party is very important to me, and Anne is a friend of mine. She asked me specifically to be there, and I made a promise to her that I would be there. In fact, I might bring you with me. She has a son your age, and I think you two would be great friends together."

Zayn only rolled his eyes as he mumbled out a "I'm not going.", and he walked back to his room in a cool, collected manner.

To ease away the anger gnawing at him, he set an old Beatles album into his record player, and let the needle dance across the large black disc while he pouted in his lonely bed.

He didn't know why his mum couldn't just be late to the party, but then again, he never understood anything his mum did. She was a great lady, but a terrible planner. Her schedule was always spanned all over the place. One minute she would have plans to take her three living-at-home kids out to dinner, and the next she would be rushing her way out the door to an important meeting she had forgotten about. And tonight, she was canceling Zayn's happiness for her friend's and her own.

As his thoughts carried on, every minute passing by like the time it took for him to complete the mile in gym class, he would let out little huffs of disappointment.

He snorted at the image of him running.

When his mum called him and his sisters down for dinner, he let out a deep sigh and slowly stood from his place on his comfortable bed. He walked out to the kitchen with a trudge, his mind spinning around in every different direction possible.

Apparently he took out the unorganized trait from his mother.

All throughout dinner, he felt like his family was staring at him, their colorless eyes burning demons into his soul. He knew he was being paranoid because the room was filled in an awkward silence, the occasional screech of silverware sliding across a plate, but he just felt like something was eating him alive.

Random thoughts of self-hatred swam through his tainted brain. He felt fat, weary-eyed, ugly, horrific; it was terrible.

Where was Niall? He hadn't talked to him since he had left his house, not even over text. And even though he did not yet have Liam's number, he expected to talk to him and make fun jokes like he did with Niall.

But he was only left in silence.

Okay I know this chapter was really really incredibly short; but that's because the next chapter is going to be extremely long and I couldn't fit that all into this chapter. Be aware that Harry finally comes in next chapter so we will finally have some more Zarry action yaaaaaaay. I know the book sucks, my vocabulary sucks, and my ideas suck, but I'm trying! Bless all of you who are still even reading this book to this far, it means a lot, just bare with me here.

Thoughts on this whole dilemma with Zayn? The "party" his mom was talking about? His insecurities? ( I promise he will not have any eating disorders or anything like that ).