Dress Me ||z.m.

The Talk

The car ride to Manchester was bumpy and long. Okay, maybe not. It only felt that way because I'm beyond grumpy. I woke up with a massive headache today and I had to rush out of the hotel before the screaming fans pummeled me to death. Or at least that's how Paul stated it. Not only that, but I attempted to talk to Zayn after the show, which was harder than I thought.

For one, some of the guards thought I was one of the intruding fans so I had a hard time getting to him. Paul had to come in and inform them that I'm part of the crew which they apologized then allowed me in his hotel room. And Zayn wasn't even there! That was three hours completely wasted. So I walk back to my hotel, later than usual, not knowing I had to wake up butt early. Which leads me to right now, Louis is explaining something extremely loud and I'm about to lose it.

"Everybody pay attention, Maliah." I slowly turned to face the blue eyed loud mouth, eyes slit.

"Okay, Lewis." His eyes shot open, hands covering his mouth. I heard a snicker from the back of the car, which caused a domino effect, everyone laughing. Zayn looked my way, tilting his head back, indicating for me to come over. I plopped down in the seat next to him with a sigh.

"I heard you were looking for me last night," I nodded and he shook his head. "You never listen, Maliah." I rolled my eyes, causing the kid to chuckle.

"It's not funny! I lost sleep because of you." I whispered loudly. Zayn knotted his brows, leaning in closer.

"You lost sleep because of you." He straightened himself back in his seat.

"Well where were you?"

"That's none of your concern. You wouldn't have to be asking questions if you just listened, for once." I crossed my arms over my chest, irritated. It felt like Zayn was my dad, informing me that he 'told me so'.

"Somebody's mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Right."

We pulled up to the hotel, gathering our things and walking out of the car. It's nearly impossible to go anywhere with the boys because you're bound to get mobbed. After climbing through the tons of fans, we finally reach the doors. The security team doubles up and manages to keep the chaos outside.

There's a grab to my arm, yanking me towards the elevators. I jerked back to find Zayn gripping my arm tighter. He gave me a look then lead me through the metal doors. Before the entrance closed, I saw someone approaching us with a camera. The elevator ride was silent, occasionally, you'll hear an impatient sigh from Zayn. When the doors opened, we rushed down a hallway into a nearby room.

The Presidential Suite.

I breathed in the fresh scent that bounced off of the room, my eyes traveling around the space. This room was twice as big as the Deluxe Suite I stayed in. After peaking his head out, he slammed the big white doors.

"You got a grip on you don't ya, Malik?" I asked, sarcastically, rubbing my arm. He removed his shoes, walking over to the bed before tossing himself on the it, face first. I raised an eyebrow at his action, still standing by the door.

"So I've been told." He mumbled, elevating his head in my direction, patting an empty spot on the bed. I sat on a different side, crossing my arms over my chest. Zayn spun his head, looking up at me through his eyelashes.

"Take your shoes off," He groaned. I moved my feet from the bed, hesitantly removing my shoes. "Better hurry up if you wanna have this talk, Maliah." I rolled my eyes to the floor then sat up on the bed.

"What's your problem, Zayn?"

"Right now? My back."

"You've got to be kidding me."