Start: May 2024
A texting/irl book about non famous Justin, and famous Zayn.
Justin is a 21 year old openly gay man man who lives in a small town working at a cafe. One day the love of his life, Zayn Malik, who doesn't until then know Justin exists...
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@justinbieber: idk much about astrology but he got my dick rising _______________________________
@zayn: Justin for fuck sakes
@fridamalcom: SAME
@jamesharper: He so fine 🤤
@zaynszlutz: ZADDY 😮💨😮💨😮💨
@alexandrahayes: Zayn being gay now is actually so fucking sexy ngl
@zigiforever: You're ruining his life
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"I can't believe we're doing this. My first time in LA, and my first time in your house. And our first time really going out, and we're going to a freaking movie premiere. There'll be journalists, photographers, the whole deal. What if someone wants to talk to me? I'll start rambling about random stuff, and then you'll see Gigi on the red carpet, realize she's a better fit for you, and—"
"Hey, hey, breathe," Zayn interrupts, his voice carrying that rough, yet comforting edge. He reaches out, placing his hands on my shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "You're overthinking."
"I know, but what if I embarrass you?" I stammer, feeling the anxiety bubbling up to my throat.
He smirks, that trademark Zayn smirk that's equal parts comforting and teasing. "You could never embarrass me."
"We both know that's a lie," I say, letting out a nervous chuckle, but it's clear I'm far from convinced.
"Yeah, sorry." He smirks. "Just answer questions but nothing personal and please don't tell them the weird things you make me do for you. Don't talk about anything that has to do with sex, don't talk about anything I've told you about the tour or my music, don't talk about where you live or where you're from, just say no comments to shit like that. They're gonna wanna get as much as possible out of you." He says adjusting my tie and leaving a quick kiss on my cheek.
"I'd actually appreciate a list of all the things I shouldn't say," I joke, though deep down, I'm only half joking. My mind is already racing with potential slip ups.
As we stand in front of the mirror, Zayn adjusts my tie with precision, his fingers brushing against my collar in a way that's both tender and possessive. The small, quick kiss he plants on my cheek after is almost enough to calm my nerves.
Almost.
The ride to the premiere is a blur of LA lights, the city buzzing with an energy that I'm not used to, and my stomach is in knots by the time we arrive. The second we step onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the hum of voices surround us, closing in like a tightening net.
I cling to Zayn's side, his presence grounding me, until suddenly, it doesn't. People swarm, interviews beckon, and before I know it, we're separated.
I try to hold it together, but my heart starts racing as I find myself standing alone, face
