The Strings Attached | Zayn Malik

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Did you hear?"

"What?"

"The Mona Lisa has been stolen!"

The warmth of Summer has tempted me out of my room and directed me to an outdoor restaurant with a marvelous view of the calm lake that was nearby. I was talking to my dear friend, and partner in crime, Jack.

Jack isn't his real name, he made his name Jack just for protection, I suppose. He hasn't even told me what his real name is.

"I wonder who took it?" He smiles.

I shrug, "Someone with a great mentor."

He laughs broadly, "Well that's very true, but I don't think who ever did this could do it without their partner." I proudly agreed.

"Jane?"

I put my dirty blond hair in a high pony tail and I nod, gesturing for him to continue his thought.

"What if we get caught?"

Sweat brazed his eyebrow and his fingers played with the white napkin on the edge on the table.

"We won't." My confidence grows stronger and stronger as days travel by without the police and the FBI tracking us down.

"But what if we do?" I smile with my blue eyes sparkling.

"Don't worry and enjoy." Our two elegant wine glasses click in allusion. I lay back in my black metal chair the restaurant provided us while smelling the fresh baked blueberry muffins and the lake water mixture.

"Don't worry." I reassure myself, this time imagining the treasure in my greedy, delicate hands. I smile at the thought. Who knew I could run all my life?

* * *

"Oh look, we're on television!" I say for only Jack to hear. Jack turns to where I pointed to.

We were in a crowded street and window shopping when I see one of the store's showing different sets of televisions, all airing one channel: the News.

"Ha!"

"What?" I ask after daydreaming.

"We should start calling ourselves the Double J!" I smile at my friend as he cracks up thinking it's the funniest joke in the whole obscure world.

"Come on, we have to get back and check on our money."

* * *

We reach the damp rundown cement building where we hide our most precious possessions. I unlock the metal door by my own silver key that is about the size of my pinkie. Its thin figure clutches in my right hand as I turn the metal knob. I hear the click in the door and I walk in with caution.

I smile as I see the gold and the priceless art we have collected over the many years we have shared together. I pick up the ring owned by the one and only Abraham Lincoln. I smile at the piece. This accessory was the hardest to steal. At one point everything will be sold and Jack and I will be far gone on our own island sipping wine while the waves crash and the smell of the ocean become instinct to us.

But for now, we work.

"Alright, let's lock it up." I say when I'm satisfied that everything is here. We quickly leave the building and lock the doors behind us.

I rub my hands together while looking up seeing it has started to rain, hard. I avoid the pelting bullets of rain as much as I can until I realize there is no way out of being soaked from head to toe in this weather. I pick up the pace and hide my face, just for security to make sure no one can recognize me.

Jack left the opposite way, no one can see us together. There were cameras everywhere.

I run to the restaurant that we were attending before to buy an umbrella at the nearby gift shop.

I continue to rub my hands together for the fragment of warmth friction could provide for me from the harsh winds and unforgiving rain on my bare arms. "Excuse me? Do you have any umbrellas?" I ask the bored cashier once I reach inside. I see the man tense up and grab a dark blue umbrella to hide his face.

"Um yeah, yeah-" he alters his voice hiding his identity.

"Can I see your face?" I chuckle pulling the plastic umbrella down.

"Are you a fan?" He puts his rough tan hands across his masculine face.

"I can't answer that until you show me who you are." I gently push his hands down to see chocolate brown eyes and stubble around his sharp jaw.

I smile being able to finally see his sharp features.

"Much better, and to answer your question; my work is more important than celebrities, no I don't know you." I shrug grabbing the forgotten umbrella and placed it on the black round granite counter for him to check out. I open my black leather wallet as he searches for the bar code to scan the purchase.

I pull my wallet farther down not wanting him to see how much money I have from doing a small job earlier today. I place down a wrinkled twenty dollar bill not bothered that it was only worth ten.

"Keep the change," I say as I quickly walk out the door.

"Wait!" The young man proclaims.

"Here," he smiles with his perfect straight teeth as he hands me his number on a scrap piece of old paper.

I sigh knowing what I have to do later. I almost grimace back grabbing the paper from his large hand and continued to walk with my umbrella in hand. My sneakers squish and squeak in the small puddles as I walk to my ephemeral home.

The torrent continues to fall as I take the spare metal key from the small unpainted wooden bird house in our current large front lawn.

"Hello!" I call as I enter the spacious house.

"Hey Jay," Jack calls my nickname as he comes from our modern kitchen. The little paper the young adult gave me was still wet and clutched in my hand.

"What's that?" Jack takes the delicate paper trying not to rip it and reads out loud the number he awarded me. He sighs, "You know we have to throw that away."

"We can't have a relationship, not in this kind of life." I nod as Jack crumples up the thin paper and shreds it for extra effect.

* * *

Not in this kind of life, lingers through my head as I pull up the white covers in my massive rectangular room in a king size bed.

"What kind of life is this?" I sigh.

This isn't the first time I have gotten a paper with a number on it, but my heart always drops as I see them burn, torn, or thrown away.

"Am I really going to be single the rest of my life?" These questions always goes through my head every night. But I know I live a good life and a better one than I used to.

//

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Thanks for reading x