Fan Service

#NoFilter

Zayn didn't know what to do. Should he cause a scene? Should he pack his shit and leave before she got a chance to see him? He was so angry, it seeped into his bones and oozed out of his pores leaving toxic energy everywhere he went. Everything was contaminated. The couch he used to love now had too many stains, the fridge wasn't cold enough, the tv not bright enough. Even the pictures of the two of them seemed too radioactive. 

So he burnt them.

All of them.

With a match and some Olive Oil, he headed outside with every single picture and threw them on the ground. If he could've sent that pictures-and her- to hell, he would. Dousing the photos with oil, he let his tears pour as the flames ignited. It was the end of an era, he thought. An end of a time where he believed people were honest and truly good and would give just as much as they received.

How could she do this to him? What kind of cold, heartless...bitch do you have to be to break a heart as pure as his, he asked the gods. But their silence only infuriated him more. Amber had since left, afraid to face his or her cousin's wrath.

As she drove away, she wondered if she had made the right decision. Good people don't deserve to suffer, she asserted within herself and drove to her ex-boyfriend's house, hoping he'd let her stay the night while she sorted out this issue with her brother. 

Zayn cried. 

He wiped those tears, grabbed a fistful of the traitor's clothes and pushed them into the tub. His plan was to soak them all in bleach and have her come home to all of the things she clearly loved more than him, completely destroyed. But he couldn't do it. He wasn't that kind of person.

So he cried some more.

"I should call her, talk to her," he thought out loud but his fingers never gained enough strength to dial the numbers. She never answers her phone, anyway. He knew all too well that had he called, she would have persuaded him again it was a moment of weakness and that if the world were to end and she could save one person, it would be him. Him above Beyonce, she always said that.

The fire outside continued to burn and didn't die despite his numerous efforts.

"I'll let the house burn down," he shouted to himself in the mirror, trying to convince his own self that he was capable of grand arson but quickly came to his senses with the justification that she'd receive twice the amount in insurance.

Dissatisfied with all of his almost terrible revenge acts, he decided to do something he never thought he would do. Like a rabid animal, he suddenly sprung deep into the closet and began throwing all of his clothes out. Jeans, shirts, hats, shoes even complete suits piled up on the bed. Smoke began to waft into the room but he didn't care, he was on a mission to hurt Kelly just as much and she'd hurt him and not even the threat of fire could distract him.

Finally, after emptying three suitcases, one walk-in closet and five old planners, he found what he had been searching for- a tattered business card that read: SKAI JENNINGS- ACTRESS. In the upper corner, written in pink glittery letters was, "Call me when you dump that bitch".

And without hesitation, his fingers clicked the numbers and brought the ringing phone to his ear.

"Well, well, well. I suppose you're ready to play, Zayn."