Pause. Rewind. Play. (A Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Chapter 10: Do you trust me?

The next morning, I'm surprised when Mum is in a fit trying to rush out of the apartment. It's even more odd because today's her day off.

"Where are you in such a hurry to go, Mum?" I ask, calmly eating breakfast.

"It's Rex. I took him to the vet yesterday. He's been terribly sick." My mouth hangs open.

"But he was perfectly fine the other day," I say, suddenly becoming a lot more interested and worried.

"Well, he was vomiting yesterday morning, so I took him to the vet. She told me to come back first thing in the morning. I'm so worried about the little guy you know?" she says quickly, grabbing her bag. Yes I do know. "See you later, oh and Ari?"

"Yeah Mum?" She bites her lip.

"Nothing, bye!" Mum leaves without another word. Well that's odd. I brush Mum's weirdness off, concluding it's just because she's worried about Rex. I am, too. I just hope Rex is going to be alright. I've always been the one to cry over dead or ill animals.

I clean my bowl, putting it in the dryer for later. I have to do the dishes tonight anyway, I have no distinct plans to do for today. I'm probably going to go back up to the cave and check up on my painting for Morgan.

Morgan. The anniversary is only two weeks away. Sometimes I feel like it's my fault Morgan is the way she is now. It's my fault for not stopping her from going out to that party that night. Then maybe she wouldn't have got hit and would be finishing up high school instead of in a hospital, being tube fed and making her family worry sick about her.

The doctors still say it's too early to know if she'll wake up or not. It's been a year, isn't that enough time? But I know that's hardly fair. They're doctors not miracle workers, no matter how much I want them to be.

I don't bother changing out of my PJ's. I'm not squeamish on getting paint on this. I slip on my fuzzy slippers and paint splattered jacket, taking the flight of stairs to the cave. Unlocking it, I step inside. Locking the door behind me, I decide to start on a small scale oil painting.

Going over to the radio, I turn it on, only to have the tunes of What Makes You Beautiful flow through the radio, followed by Elizabeth, the radio host's, voice

"And we're back! That was What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction!" she says. "Speaking of One Direction, we have the boy band in with us today!"

"Hello! Hi!" chorous in five accents.

"So how's New York boys, loving the heat yet?" her co-host, Ben, asks.

"Yeah it's really fun," Liam says.

"So what are your plans for today?" Elizabeth asks.

"Just recording a new song," Zayn says. "It's not gonna be so hectic today."

"Well I'm sure being One Direction is busy within itself. Here are some questions from our Facebook page that your fans want to know. These really interested Lizzie and me," Ben says. "Here's my personal favorite; who gets the most girls?"

I don't pay attention to the answers as I find my paints.

"So it's unanimous, Harry, the ladies man, huh? So I'm guessing you're single?" Elizabeth asks. There's a tone in her voice that I don't like. I can imagine her flirting with him in the studio. She just better keep her hands to herself. "This actually brings us to our next question; what is it like for your girlfriends to be dating members of the biggest boy band on the planet?"

"Actually no, I have a girlfriend at the moment," Harry says with a nervous laugh. I smirk smugly. Show's that bitch. "I'm not really sure actually. It's not something we actually talk about."