Torment (One Direction Fan Fiction)

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[A/N] Goodluck.

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“And now for the smooth sounds of-”

Zayn leaned over and turned the radio off. He hated late night radio. He slowed his car down a bit and mused as to where he was heading. He eventually turned down a street, glancing at his GPS to make sure it was the right one. It was poorly lit, dingy and all but one of the apartment building looked abandoned.

Zayn could tell, from one look, this was not the safest part of London. He wasn't sure if one could still call it London as it was an hour and a half away from his home, situated in central London. He came to a stop outside of the correct apartment block, leaning over to turn off his GPS, eyes still trained on the building.  His hand was shaking a little and he had to calm down. It was about nine thirty at night and Zayn needed his fix.

He wore relatively inconspicuous clothes; all black and selected specifically to be unassuming. He felt it niggling, could feel the itch. Whenever he did something like this, he had an unruly urge to laugh and smile. He was doing something bad and it was morbidly fun.

Zayn checked in the rear-view mirror for any suspicious lurking cars and pulled the beanie down over his ears, squinting his eyes in an attempt to catch anyone hiding along the street. Being who he was, it was more often than not that he was being followed.

Zayn sighed, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes. Zayn had been sleeping restlessly for a while now. Nightmares plagued any version of rest he attempted. It caused him not only annoyance, but pain. Nearly physical pain.

He opened up his cubbyhole, checking to see how many cigarettes he still had before brushing his fringe to the side and tossing the door open. He pocketed his wad of ten £100 notes and car keys, closing his door and locking the car twice. The lights of his car flashed him farewell and he glanced across the street before walking to the opposite side walk, up the concrete stairs that smelt of piss and rang the grimy doorbell.

The intercom crackled before a phlegmy cough resounded and then a gruff voice spoke. “Hello?” It demanded. Zayn cringed, his nose wrinkling before he cleared his throat.

 “Yes, hello?”

The person chuckled, no doubt amused at the way Zayn’s voice cracked. “What do you want little man.” He said roughly.

 Zayn stuffed his hands into his pants, glancing down the street. These exchanges always made him nervous.

“I’m here to collect a special delivery.” Zayn mumbled, almost into his neck.

“Speak up kid.” The man laughed and Zayn scowled.

“I’m here for a special delivery!” He said louder. The gate in front of him buzzed.

“Second floor, first door on your left.” The voice sounded amused when it cut out. Zayn sucked in a deep breath. His previous dealer got sniffed out and now Zayn was heading to another guy. He’ hadn’t been recommended and Zayn could see why. However, he was desperate. Apparently this guy was looking to deal for big names anyway, so why not?

Zayn stepped into the grimy entrance hall, glancing at the old fashioned elevator as he closed the gate behind him. Despite it being typical for a guy like Reynard to live in a dump like this, he needed to upgrade his surroundings if his new target market was to be people of Zayn’s calibre. Zayn swallowed, suddenly doubting himself. He’d been to many places like this before but the smell and the feeling of being in these places always got to him. It smelt of sex and lost souls.

Second floor. Zayn stepped up to the old fashioned elevator, the lights behind the yellowed cracking buttons flickering creepily.  THE WORLD IS UGLY was spray painted on the peeling wood. Zayn closed the trellis door, wisps of rust falling to the floor. He pushed the button for the second floor and the elevator jerked upward causing Zayn to grab onto the handle bar.