One More Spoon of Cough Syrup [Zayn Malik FanFiction]

Chapter 24

 "But if you never try, you'll never know just what you're worth." - 'Fix You' by Coldplay.

The past hours after rehearsals were spent by simply messing around like there was no tomorrow. It started off with a football game in a small secluded feild Harry found behind the arena; it was Liam, Harry and I against Louis, Niall and Zayn with Eleanor as the referee (she had a wide knowledge of football rules and past legendary games much to my surprise).

Zayn and Liam stood in the goal nets, with Harry, Louis, Niall and I out in the open. A bad idea to put Louis and I on opposing teams, as we were both very competetive and energetic. 

I snagged the ball off Niall (which required a lot of skill, may I add) and avoided Louis' lunge, making my way to the goal net. Several feet away from the goal, I sent the ball whizzing past Niall and it flew to Harry's waiting posture. I ran forwards (feeling especially grateful for joining the cross country team back in secondry school) and recieved the ball from Harry; I gave it one more powerful kick and sent it flying towards the goal net. 

"HA!" Harry yelled, running back and pulling me onto his back in victory.

Then we did annoying (yet very manly *cough cough*) dances to, well...annoy them.

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"First concert of the tour," I smiled. "Feeling alright?"

Now, usually, I'd expect : a simple 'No', or 'I think I'm going to pass out', but I wasn't surprised to hear Zayn say: "Never better," in a sincere voice.

Would you be surprised? Considering it's day seven, and Zayn would've thrown a temper tantrum or burst into hysterical tears if he wasn't properly distracted, I think not.

Although he sounded sincere enough, Zayn looked ready to puke his guts out; his face was pale and he had already brushed his teeth four times - he considered it a pre-concert ritual and tonight, he seemed extra scared for the wrong reasons.

See, a couple hours earlier, while Zayn was having his hair touched up, he had confessed to me his worries and concerns. 

"What if I get violent on stage because I feel like I need a smoke?"

"What if I start crying?"

"What if I'm focusing too much on the song that I can't focus?"

"What if someone throws a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at me?"

The last one seemed highly unlikely.

I assured him, genuinely, that the whole tour together plus his care for the fans would keep him from thowing a tantrum on stage - violent or emotional. I told him (and I reminded him that I never said cliché things to emphasize how much I beleived this) to have fun with the concert. I reminded him that the whole reason he was here in the first place was because he loved singing and being in a band - not because he had to fufill anyone's requirements like a job - this would keep him from losing focus but not having too much so having the right amount. And the last one... a simple slap round the head and a "Seriously, Zayn? Really?" seemed to suffice.

"I think I'm going to go brush my teeth again," Zayn choked, looking ready to vomit. He raced to his dressing room and didn't come out after a good twenty minutes. 

He came out with the other guys, looking calmer and there was some colour returning to his olive complexion. I tilted my head to the side, slightly, studying his face. "Well, your teeth do look cleaner, but twenty minutes?"