Rebuilding Zerrie

Vulgar and Profane

KLOE'S P.O.V.

Some people are scared of spiders. Others cockroaches. Most people are typically afraid of falling yet they mistake it for fear of heights. Some claim they are afraid of the dark but really they are afraid of what lies in it.

But I was afraid of pressure.

It wasn't meeting Jesy that made me so afraid. It was the realization of the enormity. This situation came to a point where I had to meet the people who were close to Perrie and I knew that, eventually, I was going to have to talk to Perrie herself. I was going to give her my fully apology, sincere remorse and genuine regret.

Even though I knew that time wasn't anytime soon, I was still fearful that all eyes were going to be on me. That was my core duty: to convince Perrie that it meant nothing. Zayn was counting on me and so was Niall. It was going to be my chance to prove Harry that I wasn't useless.

On the way back to Zayn's hotel, we talked. I talked about I was feeling while waiting for Jesy to arrive and I thanked him for helping me go through that minor tidbit. He told me about the first time he met Perrie after Little Mix won the X-Factor. He told me about their silly conversations and how hard it took for him to ask her out on a date.

Occasionally, he'd pause and smile at himself, recounting all their memories. But honestly, I didn't no why he was telling me all this stuff. Maybe it was because he felt like I needed to know? Or because he just felt like opening up at the time and I just happened to be there?

"Even before I met her, I liked her," he shared, "I was watching an episode long before Little Mix was formed. I guess I was staring so intently at the Telly because me mum came up to me and told me 'You like 'er, don't you?'"

"Woah," I let out a breath of shock. I don't know why, but I couldn't help but feel that the words he was saying, the feelings he was pouring out were for me. I knew they weren't, but they were strong enough to make me believe that anyone could actually feel that way for me.

All of a sudden, I saw Zayn Malik in a new light. He was no longer the bad boy of that famous British-Irish boyband that every girl from ages six through sixty adored. No, he was this vulnerable, teenage boy that wanted so badly to undo his mistake. He was one of us.

He knew how it felt like to love someone so much and to have one stupid mistake make none of it matter. I felt selfish and cruel to think that he deserved to feel that way. Nobody deserved to feel the way he did.

He pulled into the driveway of his hotel and we went up the elevator. Just as we opened the door, we immediately knew something was wrong. Harry and Niall were crouched to the computer but rushed to different places once we arrived. In a span of a nanosecond, Harry was lying down on Zayn's bed, fiddling with his phone and Niall was on the couch, surfing channels.

What were they doing? What were they hiding?

Zayn and I exchanged curious glances before I asked to used his MacBook. He unhesitatingly obliged. I sat on the computer chair and saw Harry and Niall look at each other with worried faces at the corner of my eye. I chose to ignore it rather than to make up some theory that I wasn't even sure was real.

But it was.

I opened the window that they had the time to exit but was in too much of a hurry to erase the history. It was twitter and tumblr. There it was. Endless streams and trends of hate and death threats. If I were a girlfriend of one of the members of 1D, there would at least be some ray of light. Some Directioners who didn't send hate or at least ship us.

But if you made a mistake like I did, nobody would ever ever ever treat you with respect. With every word, I felt something breaking inside of me, but I just couldn't stop. I sat there, scrolling through pages and pages of abhorrence with Harry, Niall and Zayn watching me. I couldn't bring myself to exit the pages and pretend like it was nothing because it wasn't.

The hate was unbearable. I felt as if I wanted to die right then and there. I knew I would never be forgiven. My heart was pounding so hard and hot, angry tears threatened to pour out of my eyes but I couldn't cry. Not in front of them. I didn't want them to feel sorry for me. I didn't want them to see me like this.

Before I had the chance to disagree with myself and regret my decision, I logged into my account on Twitter and, sure enough, I had about a million mentions from both Directioners and Mixers. They didn't have to send me all that hate because I already knew what a terrible person I was.

@Niam_5ever: I ship Haylor more than I ship Klayn.

@Vas_Zappenin: I always knew "slut" was a four-letter word but I never knew it started with a K.

@Littl3M1xer: Fuck you fucking bitch whore cuntface.

"Okay." I slammed the laptop shut and sighed. I looked over at Zayn, who was standing right behind me and I never even noticed. He had an apologetic look on his face but I shook my head. "Can we have lunch delivered?" I asked as if I hadn't just had a stream of profanity slap me right across the face.

I craned my neck to look at Niall. "I don't really feel like going out right now," I told him, but still nothing. Why did it have to come to this? I rolled my eye before relying on Harry. "Please?" I almost begged.

Harry nodded and a wide smile stretched on his face. "You got it, ho-bag." He winked at me before reaching for his phone. Really, Harry? Even at times like these you wouldn't give it a rest? I decided to play along rather than to be bitter and it made me feel a lot better.

"Oh, shut up, Diana Ross," I teased. He smiled back at me as he spoke on the phone with a nearby McDonalds. When it arrived, I was in no mood to eat at all but I needed a distraction. I needed one baldly. I ate spaghetti, two burgers, a large McFlurry and my cup of pineapple juice. I felt like vomiting, but I just kept going and going.

They were staring at me. I could feel their eyes boring holes into my skin, but they didn't bother saying a word. They probably knew what I was going through. From the silence, I got lost in my thoughts which I often did. I thought about my sisters, if they were receiving hate brushed off from the fandom's hatred for me. I thought about how disappointed my parents must be of me.

And it may sound deviant of me to think that Perrie might be enjoying everybody's loathing of me. It wasn't like me to be so egoistic but I don't know Perrie. I don't know if she's the kind of person who likes it if something bad happens someone she doesn't particularly like or if she's the kind of person who doesn't want anyone to be treated that way or if she just doesn't give a damn.

It wasn't right of me to judge her but it wasn't right for anyone else to judge me either. I'm sure if you had an opportunity like I did, you'd go for it. Right? Or was I really just that selfish to be thinking solely of myself?