Rebuilding Zerrie

Things at Risk

KLOE'S P.O.V.

We weren't saying a word although my mouth was slightly ajar. Harry kept a finger pressed to his lips to remind me not to say anything, not even gasp. It might wake them. This wasn't something we wanted the others to know. This wasn't something even we wanted to know.

There would be so much at risk.

The boys were aware that their music record deal was at SYCO Records until 2015, but their entire image was in the hands of Modest Management. They had the power to cut the cord between being just another boyband and being the world's most successful band of today. I didn't want to worry them by telling them the news about Castle's lawsuit, especially Zayn.

Zayn was stressed enough as it is.

It was only after Castle and the management's discussion was over that Harry and I woke the rest to switch cars. The venue was about three hours away from the Modest building, so I found my eyelids drooping as Niall's saliva was on my lap where he was sleeping. I was half asleep, thinking about how glad I was that Castle was sitting shotgun.

The dream began to sink in gradually. I was on the tour bus, with the boys. All of a sudden, all of my favorite fanfics were coming to life. Zayn was on his phone, Kik-ing with this girl showing off her breasts. It was unusual to have a punching bag on a moving bus but there was one. Harry was boxing, all sweaty. A few feet away from him was Niall, admiring him and being all fanboyish. Liam was with this girl who looked almost exactly like Paul Higgins, only she had boobs and a vagina.

Before I got to see what Louis was, something jolted me. My eyes shot open to see green irises staring right back at me. "Don't say a word to anybody," he told me. I was still trying to recover my image of Dark Harry from my mind, so I remained silent as I blinked it off. He turned to look out the window and whispered, "We're almost there. Remember. Not a word is to be said."

Nodding, I lay my hand on Niall's dirty-blonde head of hair and stroked it gently. The gesture woke him up but in a way that was gentle, like a baby. He blinked and swallowed his saliva. He was half-awake until he saw the puddle of drool he made on my bare thigh. He cursed, louder than intended hopefully. "I'm so sorry," he apologized as he pressed the end of his wrist-length sleeve on my leg.

My abrupt squall of laughter woke the rest of the boys up. All of them, including Harry and Castle, glared at me with pure hatred. "Sorry," I crouched down in embarrassment. When I was certain they were all looking away, I smacked Niall's shoulder. "That's my sweet spot, you assprick!"

He giggled whilst attempting to press the spot on my thigh again, but we pulled over. The car door swung open and we emerged from the vehicle. The studio was smaller than I expected it to be. According to the sign on the glass door, it was for an Asian radio show called Golden Musicians.

"In Golden Musicians, you're not just musicians," Niall joked, trying to lighten up the mood, "You're GOLDEN musicians!" The was laughing at his own joke. It wasn't that I felt sorry for him. It was that I wanted to be him, to find the silver lining and to smile while everyone was glum. He was hyper and I wanted to tag along.

"If you're golden and a musician, you're..." I clapped my hands together and yelled, "A GOLDEN MUSICIAN!" The others were staring at us like we were high but we didn't care. Maybe we were.

We passed by several posters of random celebrities, the first being Georgina Wilson. As the other boys checked her out, Niall was acting as retarded as ever. "If you're name is George and you're name is Ina, you're name is..." He clapped his hands together while we chorused, "GEORGINA!"

The boys rolled their eyes at us as we moved on to the next framed poster. They sneered at the picture of the album cover of Taylor Swift's Red. I yelled obnoxiously, "If you're a tailor and you do your work swiftly, you're..." Niall and I screamed in unison, "TAYLOR SWIFT!"

I knew we weren't at all funny and that the others were already getting annoyed, but I couldn't stop. When I'm with Niall, my entire sanity is lost forever. The last poster was of this Asian popstar called Chick Boy, even though he looked unattractive in every means possible. "If you're half-chicken and half-boy, you get..."

"CHICK BOY!" From that last phrase, Castle shushed us and told us to scurry off to the room where the boys were to have their interview. We shuffled into the room where daylight flooded through the glass wall, but a security guard stopped me.

"Excuse me, ma'am." His voice was deep and solid and it brought me goosebumps through my arms. "If you are not an interviewer or an interviewee, you are not allowed inside the On Air room." I crumpled my forehead worriedly at Zayn, but he just shrugged and mouthed, "We'll be alright."

Although reluctantly, I obliged. All alone, I buried myself on the soft leather couch that curved instead of bent. I wondered what Louis was doing while we were here. I wondered why they didn't want him punished along with us if he was the one who was truly the one betraying. But mostly, I wondered if he ever wondered about me.

ZAYN'S P.O.V.

There were still a few minutes to spare before the interviewers arrived. Niall and Liam were on two stools from across the wide desk, playing with the headphones and microphones. Harry seemed nervous. He was sweating lavishly and his leg was shaking like crazy as he tapped the heel of his foot on the tiled floor.

"I feel quite sorry for--" I started but realized I had forgotten her name again. Dammit. "Her. Wankers wouldn't let her in." He seemed like he didn't hear any word I was saying. He was too busy concentrating on the expedient adventures of the line between tiles. "Hey," I rested my hand on his shoulder, "Harry. Are you--?"

"I can't hold it in anymore!" He whispered a scream as for the other boys not to hear. I was shocked and curious but confused more than anything. "It's been haunting me in my dreams. I haven't had a proper sleep for God knows how long. Eating is out of the picture and even my slim trousers are getting loose on me!"

My eyebrows furrowed from befuddlement. "I don't understand. What did you do?" He took a deep, deep, deep breath with his eyes shut tight and his fists clenched. A rush of worry poured over me. What did he do?

"It was me," he confessed, "It was me who persuaded several channels to show up at her doorstep for an interview offer and the one who informed the paps about us being in Vegas Strip and the one who told Castle about where she lived. It was me. It was all me."