Fade {Harry Styles}

Chapter 4

Marcel snatched the laptop off the desk residing in the corner of his small bedroom, typing in the headline that he had seen sprawled across a magazine displayed in his lane at Walmart while he was at work.

Could it be true?

No.

Yes.

It was. 

There, in big blue letters sprawled across MSN was the announcement of Zayn and Perrie’s engagement. Marcel vigorously clicked on the link, scanning the paragraph so fast his the words blurred together as if they had been wet paint. 

The rage that had been compressed and packed so deeply inside of him since the other night swelled to a pain in his chest. ‘Zayn’s bandmates have informed our source that they could not be happier.’ the article seemed to scream at him. How could Harry be happy for them when he wasn’t even informed of the engagement in the first place?

Marcel had been working a later shift that night and was already weighted with exhaustion, but the feeling of disconnected from his bandmates snapped at him with such force he couldn’t stop himself from whipping out his phone. He didn’t bother to do the math to configure what time it was in England. He didn’t care.

His fingers danced along the screen in an angry tango until the ringing commenced. 

"Hello?" The familiar scruffiness of Zayn’s voice crept through the phone. Marcel realized with a note of satisfaction that it could not be more than 5:30 in the morning there, considering it was 11:30 in Minnesota.

"What the fuck, man?" Marcel hissed through clenched teeth. The bubble of anger that so quickly sparked had begun to quiver with hurt. Why hadn’t he been one of the first informed? He just knew the other boys were told long before. How was it fair he had to find out through a stupid magazine, and not his own mate?

"What?" Even through his early morning grumpiness, Marcel could hear the shock in Zayn’s voice. "Why the hell didn’t you tell me?" Marcel snapped so viciously he surprised himself. It wasn’t until then did he realize how much venom his own voice possessed; and how many times he had used it to infect people with hurtful words.

"Oh." Was all Zayn offered in response. Marcel was breathing with such aggression he greatly resembled a maddened bull at the brink of charging. He could almost hear Zayn dropping his gaze; probably only sorry he had to have this conversation.

Marcel on the other hand was so ashamed. Could his best mates really forget him that quick? Was he of that level of irrelevant contact that he deserved to find out of Zayn and Perrie’s engagement the same time everyone else did? With all the questions rambling in his brain, Marcel began to form the awful impression that the other lads were slowly removing him from the band. And from their lives as well.

"We were going to tell you, we just—" "Bullshit." Marcel interrupted. He was past the point of angry, pissed, or even furious. He was hurt.

The sudden short intake of breath on the other line was brushed swiftly aside by Marcel as he struggled to find something to say. “Don’t you dare tell me that, Zayn. Don’t you fucking dare.” Marcel’s voice carried such incredible force it rattled the fury in his bones. “No, Harry. That’s not—”

"I know that I’ve been a jack ass, alright? I am well aware. But maybe the reason I became one was because I surrounded myself with them."

And as quickly as he had dialed, he hung up. Leaving Zayn with no chance to explain it was management’s demand to not tell him.

*    *    *

Marcel sat in an infuriated silence until he breathing slowed to a steady beat. Nothing had been thrown or broken in his fit of anger. His fists were tightly clenched in his lap and he could feel the clipped sting of his fingernails digging into his palms.