Tell Me You Love Me ( Zayn Malik Fan Fic )

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Reagan’s POV

I woke up slowly. My eyes were still closed and I was still lying down. I got to my place late last night and just drowned in the sheets of my bed. I’m glad I got this place furnished because I’d probably wake up on the floor if I didn’t. I sat up and got out of bed. I walked into my small kitchen of my studio apartment. Most people don’t like studio apartment, because they’re small and lack privacy. But really, all you have to do is buy curtains and close them. I pulled my heavy suit case onto my bed and started pilling my clothes into my empty drawers. I can thank my mom for this place. We made a deal a long time ago that if I graduate she’ll pay for me to get on my feet. And that she did. I set up my computer desk and book shelf neatly and fixed the small pillows on my white couch.

I turned on my TV for my daily TMZ. I picked up my phone and a slip of paper fell from my case. Oh yeah, that Zayn guy gave it to me. He seemed pretty nice, but i'm more then sure I’ve heard of that name before. I stored his number in my phone and threw it down. "So we’ve got this Zayn guy, from One Direction." My attention went to the TV as pictures of the guy I met last night

flashed across the screen. "So je was at the airport and he told us he was picking up his girlfriend."

"He has a girlfriend?" Harvey asked.

"Yeah it’s this, Perrie Edwards from that Little Mix band." I turned off my TV and ran into my kitchen. I turned off the stove and notice my breathing was quick. I can’t believe I actually met a famous person. I never really had any friends, so I can’t tell anybody about this. I ran back to the couch and grabbed my phone.

To: Zayn

Hey, I didn’t know you were in a famous band.

I pressed send quickly. I just have to act cool, and normal. My phone rang and I picked it up, seeing I had a call....from Zayn. I answered slowly and held it to my ear. "H-hello?" I choked out.

"It was kind of nice, being around a girl who doesn’t scream." I heard his familiar British accent. "But I guess it could only last so long."

"Well I’m not about to scream." I joked.

"That’s nice to know." I heard other voices in the background. "Harry keep it down, you know Perrie’s sleeping." I walked back into the kitchen and lifted myself up on the counter.

"Well I guess it’s kind of cool, having a famous friend and all. “he chuckled. "Hey does your girlfriend know you’re talking to me?" I asked him.

"No and she can’t know. The rumors about me cheating are already reducing her trust." He scoffed. I could tell he and his girlfriend were going through things. He sounded stressed at the airport, and sounds stress even through the phone.

"Maybe you should just relax and take a day to yourself." I suggested.

"Yeah, you’re right. But I can’t right now or she’d be even angrier with me." I bit my bottom lip and stared at the hot water on the stove.

"Well I’m gonna call you later, it sounds like it’s not a good time." I was talking to a guy I didn’t even know, like he was my best friend. I doubt know why but something about him just makes me feel nice.

"Ok Reagan." I hung up without saying goodbye. I, Reagan Jennette Norris, know a famous singer, Zayn Malik, from the biggest boy band on the planet. Or that what I heard of course, I never really paid any attention to that stuff. I was always to into my book to be going on Twitter everyday to look at people, who don’t know I exist, talk about their life. Not that I was bashing on the little girls that do…they can do whatever they want. But now that they do know I exist, and I don’t have to focus on school, it won’t hurt just to you know…look. I grabbed my laptop and fell into the depths of my bed. I turned it on; now don’t think I didn’t have a Twitter. Oh, I had a Twitter; I just never really got on. I logged on and typed in Zayn’s name. He popped up with that little blue checkmark by his name. This is why I love Twitter; they tell you the fakes from the reels. I clicked on him and his Twitter profile popped up. I followed him and saw he doesn’t Tweet very much. He must have other things to do, if you know what I mean. He was probably having sex right now, not that I imagine him doing that. That’d just be weird. I shut my laptop and climbed out of bed. I should really get some fresh air. I pulled on some grey jeans and a white muscle shirt with a nice flower in the middle. I applied my usual make-up, and ran a brush through my brown-golden locks. I love my hair, it’s so soft. I pulled on 2 sliver bracelets and my black vans. Vans are nice, aren’t they? I opened my purse and took out my case bag. I wasn’t obsessed with my phone; it’s the cases that I like. People always complemented me on them. Mostly because they always matched my outfit. I have a lot more than I can handle really. I decided on a plain black and pink one to match my outfit. I have to match at least one thing in my outfit. I absolutely hate it when someone’s wearing a beautiful navy dress and then just mess it up with some pink heels. Uhg! I grabbed my sunglasses and pushed them over my head. I walked out my apartment and locked the door, don’t want any robberies on my first day as an adult.

 I started down the semi cold streets of New York and ended up walking a couple of blocks. Ok,  maybe like 20. I can’t help it, I just pop my head phones in and drown in my music, watching my feet as I walk on endlessly. It was only after about an hour and 30 minutes when I looked up at my surroundings and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I looked up at the humongous building I was standing in front of and it looked like a 5 star hotel. I sat down on the stone steps and pulled out my phone. A piercing scream could be heard over my music. I looked up and saw girls pilling in front of the hotel. Well this just took a turn didn’t it? Big musically men came rushing out of the hotel, past me and started holding the girls back. I stayed seated and scrolled through my email. I really need a job; even though my studio is paid off I need some Reagan money. To spend on new clothes and more phone cases, plus I need plates and bowls, and more cups and silver ware. I also need food, so all in all I just really needed a job to keep myself alive. I stood up and started back towards my studio apartment.

Harry’s POV

“Hey Zayn, our fans caught up with us.” I pointed out the window. He looked down and waved at them. “Hey who’s that?” I asked, seeing a girl sitting on the stairs of the hotel, like nothing was going on in front of her. Zayn shrugged his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t know her Harry.” He waltzed back into the kitchen with Perrie. He’s been acting highly strange lately. To be honest, he seems kind of miserable now that Perrie’s here. Maybe he wants some alone time with her…or some alone time with himself. Well we’re gonna be here for a while and we’re on break so I don’t know why he’s pouty. All though he looked pretty cool earlier today when he was on the phone. I wonder who it was, he yelled at me for being loud while he was on the phone, after he got off the phone. So it had to be someone important. Maybe his mom, they talk like every day.

“Hey, I’m gonna take a walk.” I told anyone who was listening and grabbed a blue beanie. I pulled it over my curls and walked out of the suite. When I got to the lobby, Paul escorted me through my girls. I signed a few things and took some pictures. I can never just ignore my fans; I love them with all my life. I really wouldn’t be anywhere without them. Literally. I saw the girl, walking extremely slow down the block. It was obvious she was on her phone, I tend to slow down when I’m texting too. I decided to leave her alone and get into the black van that’d take me any where I wanted. “Uhm, how about a Starbucks or something?” I asked the driver.

Reagan’s POV

I walked into Starbucks and ordered a Hazelnut Frappichino. I decided to stay and I took a seat at a small corner by the open window. I don’t know why, but I enjoyed looking out at the streets of New York, watching cars drive by. People rushing to work and running in for a quick coffee. Life seemed on a track in New York, everyone had places to go and people to see, except me. I had nowhere to go, and no one to see. But I guess that’s just how life is when you’re a young adult living all on your own. I started playing $ Pictures 1 Word. This game is truly addicting, but difficult. I was currently stuck on 4 hand pictures of a word I cannot find out. “It’s Irish.” I bit my lip and typed in Irish.

“Hey that’s right! Thanks.” I mumbled, not even looking up. Whoever it was, was sitting behind me, and obviously being nosy and looking over my shoulder…not that I cared it’s not like its private. I probably would’ve asked him at some point anyways.

“I’m Harry.” He said.

“Hello Harry.” I muttered, staring intently at the screen, another difficult one.

“I guess you don’t care who I am.” He said, and honestly sounding a bit cocky for someone I really don’t give 2 shits about right now. Not that I’m trying to be mean or anything.

“Not really.” I got up and grabbed my half drunken frap and walked out the store without giving him even one look. Ok, maybe I was being a bit mean but who cares? Not me.