Idol (Zayn Malik)

Chapter seventy-nine - Far Away

Her hand was cold; someone else had closed her blue eyes. I had to imagine the last breath that she had taken, because I hadn't been able to see it. She was wearing a white gown and, seriously, it was easy to imagine her like an angel now. Well, now and always. She had been an angel to me.

"I'm sorry that this had to happen like this." I heard my best friend say from behind me, but that wouldn't help me at all.

I hadn't been able to see her, and that would be something that I would never forgive myself for.

"After the first stroke, she wasn't able to recognize anyone. She even thought that I was her husband." He kept going, but I didn't really listen. I just kept staring at her; every single thing about her that I knew I would never be able to see again.

Being completely honest, I don't know why people are so afraid of the death. When we see these ghost movies, people are supposed to be scared, but if there's something that life taught me was that the living are worse than the dead.

And now I see her here. She might be dead, but she's still the same. Her hand is cold, but it's still the same hand that I've held since I have memory.

I guess this is the point when you realize that death is just a state of mind, that it doesn't define the relationship you are in.

"Miss, we need to take the corpse." A masculine voice said from behind me and I nodded, unable to take a glimpse of the horrendous scene before me.

"Hey." Max said as he stood besides me. "She isn't saying goodbye." He held my hand. "This only means that she'll be the one looking out for you now."

"It has always been that way." I reached to talk between sobs.

"Well, now it'll be the time for your grandma to see from up there the beautiful young lady that she raised live the happily ever after that she deserves."

*

Zayn's POV

"I can't believe that you convinced me to get on a plane." I huffed lowly.

"Hey, mate. You know that Safaa was literally begging you to come. She would have hated you if you had stayed." Liam responded and I laughed lowly. "Just cheer up, mate. We're about to preform in Times Square for New Year's. That's literally the American Dream come true."

"Good thing that we're not American."

"Zayn." Liam looked at me. "As your best friend I'm telling you to forget all of your problems for the days that we're in the city. You can get back to them after New Year's."

"Liam, not everything is the fucking fame. I don't even like this band anymore. I hate the implications that it brings with itself; and the fucking music that I have to sing to be accepted. I don't like it, Liam."

"Zayn..."

"No, don't Zayn me now." I sighed. "You know that I'll perform, but don't you fucking see that I dislike all of this? I wanna go do my own shit, but none of you gives a fuck about it."

There was a silence that filled the place for a second, until I was brave enough to break it.

"I will quit the band." I declared.

"WHAT?" Liam's voice was higher than usual.

"I've already talked it out with Paul. After I finish the tour in April, I'll be able to go my own way."

Liam was at a loss of words, something odd for him.

"Did you...tell this to Astrid already?" He asked.