SAFE :: ZAYN

[17]

—

Zayn sat in a chair beside Yemi, his leg shaking against hers and his lip almost bruised from biting it so much.

"Stop being nervous," she put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. Zayn looked down at it before making eye contact with her. "You're going to do fine. Nadiely will hopefully be here by the time you come out, I have a meeting to go to, okay?"

"Okay."

Yemi smiled. "You got this, man."

Why was she so cute?

Zayn didn't say anything, just kept looking at her and smiling faintly. Yemi was honestly so freaking beautiful it was ridiculous. Her skin was a deep brown, smooth with only a few blemishes here and here, her hair had blond highlights and it was long -- Zayn knew it was weave but that wasn't his business -- and her eyes were the same color as her skin, Rich and pretty and--

"Zayn, focus," Yemi muttered, smiling softly and straightening his tie, "I prayed on this, so, you definitely got it."

Today was Zayn's last interview for jobs he applied for, so far, he had it down packed, and having Yemi as a reference was a huge advantage. It was hard to say where he stood at this point, but Zayn knew out of all these jobs, he at least had to qualify for one. If not then what the hell was he doing wrong?

"Zayn Malik," the woman pronounced it Maleek, but Zayn didn't care. He stood to his feet and took a deep breath.

"You're gonna do great."

He sighed again, greeting the woman politely before walking with her into the office.

"Good morning, Mr. Malik," another woman greeted behind the desk. She stood and shook his hand, sitting down again while he did the same.

"Good morning, ma'am. How is your day so far?"

"Excellent, excellent," she replied with a smile. The secretary closed the door and they quickly got down to business, "so you're interested in our editing job? What history have you had with this sort of occupation?"

"Well, I used to be an editor and writer for Aesthetica Magazine--"

"Really?" she was surprised, her eyes bright, "what sections did you work on?"

"I wrote mainly for film, street art, and music, doing album reviews and going to orchestra concerts and symphonies," he explained, getting a bit more comfortable, "but I had quickly picked up photography, books, and graffiti."

"So you wrote for almost half the magazine at times."

"Basically. Uh, I've always wanted to be some sort of writer. I went to school at UC Santa Barbara for writing and literature."

"Interesting," she commended, "very impressive for a man that has been out of work for a few years."

"Yeah," he gulped but still made necessary contact, "about that..."

"Tell me about that. I mean, I can hire you on the spot, but I would like some sort of truth. A man like you coming in, had the perfect job, beautifully impressive resume and equally impressive references, and it suddenly went down the toilet with no explanation. Your credit score needs work but the background check is exceptional."

"Well," Zayn didn't know if she wanted the truth truth but she was about to get it, "I was laid off in 2013. The founder of the magazine said some offensive things towards minorities and a few coworkers and I took part in a worker's strike--"

"I remember that," she cut in and clasped her hands together.

"Yes and he got upset and decided to 'downsize' and 'lay off anyone who isn't qualified'," Zayn shook his head, "and...since then, everything went left."

"How?" this woman really wanted him to say he was a crackhead, huh?

"Um," Zayn took a breath and looked up at her, "well, I had a son and a girlfriend during my work at Aesthetica; my girlfriend was killed in an automobile accident and I couldn't pay all the bills. I lost my apartment and...um...I became addicted to cocaine."

"Mhm," she leaned back and studied him, "how long have you been clean?"

"Four months yesterday."

"I'm asking this because I've actually seen you before."

"What?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, "always wanted to know your story. You seem like a closed book. I actually wrote a whole column on you one time. A handsome man trapped in the darkness of this rude, rude world. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, I've seen your name plenty of times in Aesthetica."

Zayn didn't even know what to say. He was so blown right now.

She laughed. "When can you start?"

What the fuck?

"As soon as you want me to."

"Next Monday is good," she sat up and wrote a few things down, "get rejuvenated, and start getting used to waking up so early in the morning. You intrigue me, Zayn Malik, and I like that."

"Thank you...so much," Zayn was about to pass out.

—

"Hello, ladies."

"Hi, Zayn," all the ladies -- and some men -- greeted flirtatiously as he walked past them in the salon. Zayn hid his blush and went straight to the back while Nadiely went to her station.

Yemi sat by the microwave, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly.

"Yemi."

She looked back, smiling at Zayn and clasping her hands in front of her. "Hi, how'd it go?"

"So," at that, he grinned, making her do the same, "I got hired in the spot--"

"That's great, omg!" she jumped up and hugged him tightly, her lips close to his ear, "I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you," he hugged her back and smiled, his arms around her waist. God, he needed to quit.

"Is that the one you wanted?"

"Yeah, but I'm just nervous," he shrugged, still holding her up. Well, he was nervous, but he was even more nervous as he made eye contact with Yemi. "Ehm..."

"Oh," he set her down as they let go. Yemi put a strand of hair behind her head and smiled, "so, anyway...um...what was I talking about?"

"I don't know."

"Great," she deflated and Zayn laughed, sitting down in the chair. Yemi got her hot pocket out the microwave and pulled it apart. "So what will your work consist of?"

"Basically what I used to do. Writing and reviewing and critiquing."

"And it brought you joy?"

"It did, especially getting assigned to go to concerts for free," he chuckled, "it's so fun."

"I bet."

"Yem, Chantelle is here!" They heard one of the girls yell from the front of the shop.

"Oh," she threw her napkin away and stood, "you don't mind staying here, do you?"

"Nah, I have nothing to do."

"Shut up."

—

MY BABY GOIN TA WORK, FUCK IT UP ZAIN

😚😚