The Boy Next Door [Zustin Mieber fan fic]

Chapter 3

Justin

"So when are we gonna start the project?" I asked.

At the moment I was on the phone with Zayn. We hung out yesterday.... well more like smoked together. He's actually pretty cool. I haven't hung out with anyone for so long I forgot how great it feels to be around someone else.

"Uh I guess you could come over tomorrow." he said.

"What time?" I asked.

"Like 12 or 1. I don't care what time you come, to be honest." he said.

I chuckled, "You don't care about anything ever."

"Cause I don't see the reason why I should. There's a whole lot I could care less about." he said.

"I can tell. Well I gotta go, I'm starting to get tired." I said yawning.

"Alright. Bye." he said.

I said bye and hung up. I got up and went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I took off my shirt and jeans and got into bed.

~the next day~

I knocked on the front door. I waited a couple minutes then the door opened. I walked in and dapped it up with Zayn. He was shirtless and smoking.

I closed the door, "Your parents let you smoke in the house?"

He shook his head, "No but they're not here so I could care less. Although they do let me smoke."

I nodded and followed him into the kitchen. Is it weird that I enjoy looking at his house?

"Want anything?" he asked.

"Nah I'm good. So why do your parents let you smoke?" I asked.

"Frustration, anxiety, and they made me promise not to smoke weed. That's why I didn't smoke the blunt." he explained.

"Ahh, well you're lucky." I said.

"Why? Don't your parents let you smoke?" he asked.

"Nope." I shook my head.

"Why not?" he asked.

Should I tell him? No, that's when everything just gets fucked up.

"Just doesn't allow it." I lied.

"Look I really don't want to do this project so you wanna just hang out?" he asked closing the fridge.

"That'd be great." I smiled.

"Cool come on." he said.

I followed him up to his room. It had a lot more stuff than mine does. He had a lot of posters of girls in bikinis and what not. There was a bulletin board on one wall above his desk. It had a lot of pieces some small some big.

"You drew these?" I asked.

"Yeah. Kind of how I spend my time." he sat on his bed.

"These are cool. Do you draw actual people?" I asked.

"You mean portraits? Yeah they're in that notebook on my desk." he said.

I picked up the notebook and opened it. There were portraits of girls some guys. He's a really good artist.

"Do you just draw people you see?" I asked.

"Yeah, something I also do when my mom makes me go places." he said.

"Your mom makes you go places too?" I asked sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah she's always saying I keep to myself too much but that's the best thing you could do." he said.

"Yeah, I know." I agreed. We both shared a laugh. "But seriously these are amazing."

"Thanks. Here, I can draw you." he said motioning for me to give him the notebook.

I handed it to him, "You don't have to."

"Nah its fine, I haven't really had anyone to draw anyway." he said.

"Oh well ok then." I agreed.

He opened a bedside table drawer and pulled out a range of pencils and colored pencils. I took off my jacket and pushed up my sleeves to the fold of my arm.

"Should I take off my beanie?" I asked.

He shook his head, "You don't have to unless you want to. I draw whatever you want me to."

I nodded and adjusted myself on the bed a little. He sat criss cross and looked from me to the page beginning to draw. I tried my best to sit still but after 2 hours later I really couldn't. I got up and just did anything that involved movement.

Zayn started laughing and I stopped, "Sorry I just really can't sit still for long periods of time."

He shook his head, "Don't worry about it, I have a photographic memory." He got up and came over to me. "And also, I'm done."

"Wow"

He's really an amazing artist. It looks exactly like me. Like I knew he was good, obviously when I saw his other drawings, but when you see it for your own eyes. Its really something.

"You like it?" he asked.

"I think like is an understatement. Dude you're an absolutely amazing artist. I think you should enter these in some kind of art museum." I said.

"Nah, I mean I'd love to but people tend to think that I'm too blunt and rude. Kind of the reason why I stay to myself. You're the first person that I've actually had an actual conversation with." he said.

"Besides my family, you're the first person I've spoken to in 3 years?" I asked myself. "Yup 3 years and 3 months. But for very differently reason."

"Can you tell me, or not it's fine?" he asked.

I thought about it, "I'd rather I tell you when we do the project."

He nodded, "So what would you like to do now?"

"Eat." I said.

He nodded and we went down to the kitchen. We helped each other make spaghetti. I think I might just be open to this project, if it means I can hang out with him. Just having somebody sorta understand where I'm coming from is awesome.