Cruel {Zarry}

1

Zayn was standing near the window, watching
from his lovely warm mansion through the thick window glass. He admired how each snowflake fell with so much grace. How every snowflake ended on the pile of snow, slowly adding another layer. It was breathtakingly beautiful how everything was coverd in white; the streets, the parked cars, the branches of the trees and even the empty birdnest. You can still see the Christmaslights shining through the white that was outside. This was honestly his favorite time of the year. Even the people were a little bit nicer because it was almost Christmas.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't even heard his mom walking in. "Zayn sweety, are you- OHMYGOD" his mother stopped mid sentence "My baby looks so handsome in that suit." She placed her hands on her cheeks and watched with open mouth and wide eyes for a more dramatic effect. "Like a real gentelman" She continued. Zayn rolled his eyes and walked towards his mom. "Mom, do I really have to go?" His mom nodded her head. "Of course Zayn, you know how important this December party is to your father."

Zayn groaned, "I do know that mom, but I go every year and every single year it's the same. The same people, the same band and even the same catering. I really feel like staying home tonight without all the fake smiling and pretending. You know and maybe some sweatpants, anything is better than this uncomfortable thight suit." His mom walked closer to him. "I know." She sighed. "You think I look forward to walk around in these shoes all night?" She pointed at her feet. They did look really uncomfortable, "But it's important to your father and his business and since you're old enough it's time for you to meet some important people." She adjusted his tie. Zayn groaned again and started talking; "I already know all dad's business friends, mom." His mom took his head in between her hands, "Not everyone, there are some friends new in town and I would like them to meet my handsome prince" she kissed his forhead. "Now come on, we can't be late to our own party." She walked out the living room.

"You mean Dad's party..."Zayn said under his breath.

...

"Tricia! Zayn!" His father walked towards the both of them, "You're just on time, the guests are about to walk in." He took a quick look at his watch and then orderd a man to open the gates to the palace. "Now remember Zayn, you have to be on your best behaviour tonight, after all you're going to take over "The Malik Company" in a few years. So it's really important to get to know the people that work in the same kind of industry as you will in the future, walk around, introduce yourself, make friends but make sure not to reveal too much about yourself."
"Yes dad, mom already gave me the speech on our way here." He pointed at the giant doors, "Looks like your guests arrived, if you need me, I'll be at the bar." He walked away.

He hated this, hated this formal shit. Sure, December was his favorite month, simply because of the holidays. But he would have liked it more if they just celeberated it with family and friends, you know, like every other normal person.

But no. "The Malik's" weren't normal, far from it actually. They were one of the richest families that ever existed and that's why he had to celebrate tonight with a bunch of old rich grey man, his dad's so called "business friends" and their young golddigger wives.

He finally reached the bar and looked around, it was getting crowded really fast. He orderd a glass of whiskey and finished it in one gulp. So, that's enough to help him to at least get through one hour of this shit. Although he wanted to drink more, he couldn't. His dad will literally kill him if he got drunk and embarrassed his dad on the biggest event of his life. "Okay, time to talk about crap," he said to himself and faked a big ass smile on his face as he walked into the crowd.

After 50 minutes of shaking random people's hands and explaining several times what his future plans were, to like 40 people, he had enough. He just couldn't do this anymore, fake smiling, talking about things he couldn't care less about and trying to avoid eye contact with young wives of the old men, who were clearly interested in something else Zayn had to offer.

He walked through the crowed, searching for his parents, for his mom to be exact. He needed her car keys to go home, the consequences are something he'll deal later with.

After some time of walking around like a lost puppy, his eyes finally stopped on someone. It wasn't his dad or his mom, no. It was a boy. A curly brown haired boy with green eyes wearing a grey suit. He was beautiful, he looked lost though. Zayn saw this as his opportunity and started to walk over at the angel with the grey suit. He had to push himself through those rich bastards when suddenly he heard a tray fell on the floor and a ober with fear in his eyes shakingly trying to put the plates with snacks back on the tray. He felt sorry for him and decided on helping the poor lad, who's probably going to get fired after his dad sees this. He was very clear on how perfect he wanted this night to be, no places for mistakes and accidents.

After Zayn helped him get up, he told him not to worry about it and that he'll tell his dad that it was his fault that tray fell in the first place. He got a quiet "thank you sir" in response.

"Alright then" Zayn said out loud. "Let's find the gorgeous stranger."

He walked over in the direction he had seen him the first time. He wasn't there anymore. Zayn looked around "Where did he go?!"

After some time of searching for the brown haired and green eyed boy, Zayn finally gave up and headed back to the bar. Where the hell did he go? He thought, It wasn't my head just playing games with me, right? But then again, no one is that beautiful.

"Ugh, I need a stronger drink," he told the barista. The barista looked at him and said; "I only have champagne, wine, martini's, vodka and whisky. So which one will it be?"

Zayn looked at her as if she was stupid, "Why the hell would you suggest champagne and wine if someone asks for a strong drink?"

"Hey, some people can't handle wine." She held her hands up in surrender "I was just suggesting." Zayn quickly looked at the crowd, "You know what, just mix vodka with whiskey"
The bartista laughed in his face; " That's not even a thing and I don't think you'll be able to handle that." Zayn looked offended. "You don't know what I can handle, now make me a mix." He orderd.

"No, I mean handle as in body wise, I don't think it's good for your stomach to have those two drinks mix."
"Well there is only one way to find that out." He winked at her and pointed at a empty glass. "Mix em."

The bartista left out a breath and did as she was told. "But I'm not responsible for the consequences." She said as she placed the glass in front of him "Should I add some water or soda?" She asked but before she knew it the glass was empty again. "See" he smiled proud. "I'm still alive."

Oh honey, just wait.

And as expected he ran off to the bathroom, trying to make it on time as he felt the liquor making its way up again.

How fucking far is- BAM! He walked straight into someone and made them fall down. The shock opened his mouth and all he could do is throw up. The liqour kept coming out of his stomach along with his lunch from today. With him pucking all over the place his eyes started to water which blurred his vision. When he finally stopped, he noticed that he was pucking on a person the entire time.

"ZAYN?!" His dad came running towards him. "What are you doing? I told you to behave! MY DEAR LORD! Harry I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me help you up" He helped the person on the ground with getting up.
Of course dad, your son is pucking his life out and all you care about are your fake friends, of fucking course. Zayn thought to himself before deciding on taking a look at this person who clearly was more important to his father than his own son.

Zayn took a closer look and there he was,
the brown curly haired boy from earlier covered in Zayn's vomit.

What better way of marking your territory than by pucking? ...Right?