Art [Zarry]

XXX

~The next day~
Zayn
"You're doing what?" My dad asked, staring at me.

"Modeling for Gucci. They make clothes, shoes, things like that. Modeling isn't....something I'll want to do forever. I'm only exploring my options." I said, not liking how my mum and dad stared at me.

"Why'd you quit your job for this foolishness?" My mum scoffed.

"I didn't quit, Liam fired me after we had a....disagreement." I clarified.

"And it isn't foolishness, I like modeling." I said.

"Zayn, how many straight men do you know that would want to model?" My dad asked skeptically.

I bit my lip.

"And is this...modeling thing paying well?" My mum asked.

"It pays fine, and sexuality hasn't got anything to do with modeling." I said.

"I'm happy and able to support myself. So tell me what I'm doing wrong, tell me how-how I'm failing and I'll never be good enough for you. How I'll never do anything right." I said, my voice becoming strained as I fought back tears.

"Sweetheart, no. We love you so much, and think you're perfect." My mum said, reaching across the table to take my hand.

"So you support me modeling?" I asked both of them.

My mum nodded, looking at my dad.

"Well, Liam said you quit to become an artist. Have you started again, Zayn?" He asked.

My mum looked at me, and I swallowed.

When I didn't answer, she released my hand and sat back a little, both of them staring at me.

"Art makes me happy too." I mumbled, looking at my lap.

"Are you painting normal things?" My mum asked cheerfully, a look of worry in her eyes.

"I paint what I love, I always have." I said, my heart pounding with fear.

"No you haven't, Zayn. Don't say that." My dad said.

"Nothing about anybody's art is normal, that's the point." I said.

"So, there are other artists out there that obsessively paint naked men? And that's the point?" My dad asked skeptically.

"I'm not other artists!" I spat, standing up and staring down at him.

"Every person is different. I'm a grown man and can paint if I'd like to, I can draw if I'd like to. I can do whatever I want, and if you don't like it, leave." I said, pointing toward the door.

"Zayn, we want what's best for you." My mum said cautiously.

"I've got what's best for me. I've got a job I like, a hobby that soothes me, a nice flat, a car to get me places, and...." I trailed off swallowing.

"Love." I added.

"I'm happy, and I'm safe." I said, looking them in their eyes.

"I don't understand, Zayn." My dad sighed.

"You don't have to. All I ask is that you love and support me no matter what." I shrugged, looking at him.

"Somethings changed in you." My mum spoke up, watching me.

She smiled a little. "You seem...more lively, and happy."

"I am, because....I'm not here to please you two anymore. M'doing what makes me happy." I said as I sat back down, feeling a weight begin to lift.