Between the Lines

Chapter 17: Pour Decisions

The sun had barely risen, but Zayn was already at the bar, setting up for his morning shift. It was the weekend, which meant double shifts and double the chaos. He tightened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, his mind clouded with memories of his past—memories he'd rather leave buried. But work was the perfect distraction, and he intended to keep his head down and his hands busy.

By noon, the bar was alive with regulars nursing hangovers from the night before and early birds who preferred their cocktails before lunchtime. Zayn worked the bar like a pro, pouring drinks with precision and throwing in just enough charm to keep the tips flowing.

"Alright, Dave," he said, sliding a pint across the counter to a regular. "Don't go crying in this one like last time, yeah?"

Dave grinned sheepishly. "No promises, Malik."

Zayn smirked and moved on, crafting a new drink he'd been toying with in his head. He grabbed gin, elderflower liqueur, and a splash of grapefruit juice, shaking it with ice before straining it into a chilled glass. He garnished it with a twist of lemon peel and set it in front of another customer.

"What's this one called?" they asked, eyeing the drink curiously.

"The Silent Scream," Zayn replied, smirking. "Looks pretty, hits hard. Just like me."

The customer laughed and took a sip, their eyes widening. "Damn, this is good."

"Yeah, I know." Zayn wiped down the bar and leaned back against the counter, his thoughts drifting until the familiar creak of the front door pulled him back to the present.

In walked Louis, Harry, Liam, and Niall, all grinning like they owned the place. Zayn blinked, caught off guard for a moment.

"Mr. Malik!" Louis called out dramatically, waving as they approached the bar.

Zayn crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It's Zayn outside of class. No need for all that formal crap."

Niall grinned as he hopped onto a stool, leaning forward with an almost mischievous glint in his eye. "Zayn it is, then. So, think you could bend the rules a little for us?"

Harry chimed in, his voice smooth. "Yeah, we're not in the classroom now. Surely you can serve us something... special?"

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head. "Nice try, Styles. You're not legal, and I'm not losing my job over a pint of lager. Stick to soft drinks."

Louis smirked, leaning over the bar. "Come on, Zayn. Live a little. It's the weekend!"

"Don't push your luck, Tomlinson," Zayn replied, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

As the boys continued to pester him, Zayn couldn't help but enjoy their company. They were charming, funny, and annoyingly persistent.

Then it happened. Liam, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly reached out, grabbing Zayn's tie and tugging him down so their faces were inches apart.

"Maybe you just need a little... persuasion," Liam murmured, his voice low and smooth.

Before Zayn could react, Liam pressed a kiss to his lips. It was quick but firm, leaving Zayn stunned. When Liam pulled back, he leaned in close to whisper in Zayn's ear, his breath warm against Zayn's skin.

"Think about it."

Zayn straightened up, his cheeks flushing as he tugged his tie back into place. "Alright, Payne. You've got balls, I'll give you that. But you're still not getting a drink."

The boys erupted into laughter, with Louis practically falling off his stool. "Oh, my God, Liam, you absolute legend!"

Zayn rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

The night wore on, and the bar grew livelier. The hum of music filled the air, and a group of drunk regulars broke into an impromptu karaoke session, belting out off-key renditions of classic rock songs.

"What the hell is happening?" Zayn muttered, watching the chaos unfold.

Louis grinned. "Looks like they're having fun. You should join them, Zayn. Bet you've got some pipes."

Harry leaned on the bar, his green eyes glinting. "Yeah, you seem like the type who's hiding a secret talent."

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "I'm a bartender and a teacher. What more do you want?"

Niall nudged him with a playful smile. "Come on, Zayn. Give us a show."

With the entire bar now cheering him on, Zayn sighed and grabbed a mic from the corner. "Fine. But if any of you record this, you're dead."

He chose a soulful ballad, his voice smooth and rich as it filled the room. The bar fell silent, everyone captivated by his performance. When he finished, the room erupted into applause.

Louis clapped loudly. "Bloody hell, Zayn! You've been holding out on us!"

"Yeah, well," Zayn said, his cheeks tinged pink. "Don't get used to it."

As the night wound down, Zayn crafted another new drink, this one inspired by the chaos around him. He mixed tequila, lime juice, orange liqueur, and a dash of chili powder, topping it with a slice of fresh jalapeño.

He slid it across the bar to a regular. "I call this one Firestarter. Careful, it's got a kick."

The customer took a sip and coughed, their eyes watering. "Holy shit, Zayn. That's lethal."

"Yeah," Zayn said with a smirk. "That's the point."

As he cleaned up at the end of his shift, Zayn's mind wandered to the four boys who had managed to shake up his perfectly controlled life. He didn't know what the hell he was getting himself into, but one thing was certain: things were about to get a lot more interesting.