iT's YoU (z.h)

FoUr

Zayn's P.O.V.

"Hello, Zayn. Nice to see you after so long."

I heard a familiar raspy, Irish voice, and immediately looked up. "Niall?"

"Hey, dude. What's up?" he casually asked, as if being here was no big deal.

I wasn't excited, but I wasn't angry. I was only confused. "Oh, nothing, just wondering how the fuck you're here."

"I know we haven't seen each other in over year—"

"Fucking hell, you decide to come see me over a year? What kind of friend does that?"

"Zayn, there's no need to get hasty—"

"Yes, Niall, there is a need to get hasty! You decide to come see me after a year and expect everything to be all dandy? Well, it's not! Why would you even bother coming here? Maybe if you came to see me after a month or two, or at least answer my fucking texts, we could still be good friends, but this? I'm not desperate for someone like you, I've got better people in my life!"

"I understand that, Zayn, and I know you're mad—"

"Mad? Mad is a small word. Infuriated is what you should use!"

Niall gulped and sighed. "You're infuriated, yes. But my point is, you need to calm down! Your anger is getting to you, and it's not letting you think right!"

"Just shut up and leave, Niall, I don't want to see you here or anywhere again." I almost walked away, but he caught me by my arm.

"Here, take this." He handed me a slip of paper, and when I glanced at it, I saw a bunch of numbers written in black pen. His phone number, I assumed. "It's my number. I know you probably don't want it, but take it, just in case. If you still have my number in your phone, that's my old one. I changed it a long time ago." He waited for me to take it, so I snatched if and jabbed it into the small pocket of my leather jacket. He simply smiled and patted my shoulder. "Nice to see you after so long, buddy." And with that, he left.

I stormed into my dressing room out of pure rage and disgust.

How dare he? How dare he just show up after so long and expect everything to be okay between us? He has no right to even talk that openly to me! I am Zayn fucking Malik! Who does he think he is that he can talk to me that way?

My thoughts were interrupted by the soft knocking of the door. "Yes?"

A bald security guard poked his head in my room. "Uh, Mr. Malik, there are many fans asking for you."

"Give me two minutes. If they've been waiting this long to see me, they can wait some more time."

"Okay, Mr. Malik, I'll let them know."

He gently closed the door and left me to prepare myself.

Zayn, you need to relax. Just forget about Niall and his stupid self. Maybe he was right, maybe I'm thinking differently because I'm angry. Anyways, you can think about this later. Your adoring fans are waiting to meet you!

As walked away from my dressing room and to the fans, I couldn't stop the regret that was flowing through me for rejecting Niall.