London: The City Of Love// Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirty Three

"Does it say where we’re going?" Zayn asked. He still hadn’t warmed to the idea. 

I shook my head and stared out of the window, I had never been out of the country before. This was the trip of a life time.

"What are you worried about?" I asked Zayn suddenly, knocking him out of his day dream.

He looked at me and thought about it for a moment. 

"Well, it seems like all the media attention is on me at the moment. I’m the biggest story they’ve got and I had to convince my own mother that I didn’t rape Emma.. It’s like no one will believe me and I’m worried that if management say they want to drop me, the boys will just cut me out. I’m getting abuse 24/7. Fans that used to adore me now send me hate. I can’t do anything right and I can’t tell the truth." He stopped and sighed. "I’m stuck in this tiny little glass box and I’ve got the public throwing stones at me and there is nothing I can do to make it end."

"Did you really want to drop out of the band? When you were with.. her?" I asked, avoiding her name.

He nodded, “Yeah. I thought I was in love with her. I was willing to do anything for her, and I don’t even know what possessed me to do it. When I left her in Cornwall, it felt like I was having withdrawal symptoms. She was my drug. I know I sound stupid, but I can’t explain it.” 

"Did she have control over any of the medication you took?"

"Yeah, she was the one who gave it to me every day."

"Zayn…" 

He knew where I was going, “I already told management all this. They told me that there was no way to prove it and that it was better off not telling the press this.” He let out a long sigh, “Soph, I’ve thought of everything. I’m never going to shake this off, I might as well accept it.” 

I slapped him around the face hard. He just sat there in his seat looking shocked.

"What did you do that for?" He shouted.

"I don’t know. I saw it in a movie once." I replied feeling guilty.

"What did that guy do?” He asked, soothing his red cheek.

"I can’t remember, but he was saying complete and utter crap and he needed to be brought back down to earth!" I said, trying to justify my action.

Michael the driver started laughing, causing Zayn and I to join in.

"Right, well, we’re here! I’ll go and unload your luggage and put it on a trolley. Stay in here just in case there are any lurking paparazzi, OK?"

Zayn nodded as Michael got out the car. 

"I’m sorry, baby." I said, kissing his cheek lightly.

He laughed and took my hand and gazed into my eyes.

"I literally have no idea what is about to happen, but whatever it is, I am so glad it’s happening with you. I know we’ve only known each other two weeks, but, like I said, I really care about you."

I smiled as I gazed into his big, dark eyes. He still looked tired, but he’d got his quiff back, and the sense of elegance to him was floating about him. Finally, he looked happy. 

"I think my slap worked!" I said cheekily before wrapping my arm around him and inhaling a long deep breath of him and saw Michael waving to us to get out of the car. "Let’s go rockstar!" I whispered into his ear.