If You Seek Amee | Zarry

5.💋

I just wanna go to the party she gon' go
Can somebody take me home?
Ha, ha, he, he, ha, ha, ho

💋

Zayn's pov

Zayn's phone buzzed with a reminder of Sabrina's big night. He had almost forgotten about it, even though she'd been talking about her performance for weeks. Liquid Lounge, a place he wouldn't normally set foot in since he got sober, wasn't his scene anymore. But Sabrina was his best friend, more like a sister, and there was no way he'd miss her first night on stage. He could handle it. Temptation wasn't the enemy it once was.

The club was packed with people, all there to see the night's performances, but Zayn was only interested in supporting Sabrina. He grabbed a water from the bar and found a spot near the stage. As much as this environment used to call to him in his wilder days, now it was just a reminder of the life he was determined to leave behind.

When Sabrina finally took the stage, the energy of the room seemed to shift. She was radiant, dressed in a sultry silver pinup sequin outfit that left little to the imagination. Zayn could hardly believe it was her. The crowd went wild as she moved, arching her back in ways Zayn didn't even know were possible. Money rained down on her, bills flying left and right as she worked the stage like a seasoned pro.

After her set, Zayn made his way backstage to congratulate her. "Wow, you did great out there. I didn't even know you could arch your back like that," he teased, pulling her into a bear hug. "Totally could've lived without seeing that, but still... you looked fantastic, love."

Sabrina laughed, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Thanks, Zayn. I was so nervous."

"You sure could have fooled me. You killed it."

Once she changed out of her costume, they stood off to the side to watch the other performers. Zayn leaned against the wall, sipping his water, watching as various acts came and went. But in his mind, none of them could top Sabrina's performance. She'd owned that stage.

Then, the atmosphere in the club shifted again, but this time it was different. A chant began, low at first, but growing louder with every passing second.

"Amee. Amee. Amee. Amee."

Zayn furrowed his brow, intrigued. The crowd was buzzing with excitement. He turned his attention to the stage just as a figure appeared under the spotlight. The performer wore a glittery pink and blue outfit, complete with assless chaps and a pink-and-blue cowboy hat. The man was fit, his body rippling with muscle and covered in tats, and he moved with an air of confidence that had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand.

Zayn squinted, leaning forward slightly. There was something eerily familiar about this "Amee," but he couldn't quite place it.

As the performance continued, it became more and more risqué. Amee danced provocatively, teasing the crowd with every movement. And then, his eyes locked onto Zayn's, piercing him from across the room like a predator zeroing in on its prey. The connection between them was instant, undeniable.

Amee smirked, slowly making his way toward Zayn as if the rest of the room had faded away. Zayn wasn't one to get nervous, but under Amee's gaze, he found himself sweating a little. As Amee reached him, the performer stretched out his hand, dragging it down Zayn's chest, his touch lingering just above Zayn's belt. He then grabbed Zayn's hand and put his middle finger in his mouth as he swirled his tongue and hallowed his cheeks as if telling Zayn he wanted to blow him right then and there.

Sadly Amee pulled back and placed his cowboy hat on Zayn's head.

The crowd roared in approval, but Zayn barely noticed. He was caught in the performer's spell. Amee winked at him, then leaned in close, whispering in his ear, "I'll come back for my hat later." And with that, he was gone, back to the stage to finish his set, leaving Zayn in a daze.