// 50 shades of black // zjm

Part 1

On the right is gabby Westbrook who I picture as Vienna :)

"A line, just one line" Zayn laughed passing me a rolled $100 dollar bill, i was bent over the glass table examining the white powder. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed my neck. I had never done cocaine, it frightened me and frankly I didn't like Zayn pressuring me to do things he knew I wasn't comfortable with doing.

"I don't know about this Zayn"

He sighs before snatching the bill away and bending down, taking it himself.

"You know what? I have a show soon" he says in his deep accent.

"Yeah" I mutter grabbing my bag and stomping towards the door.

"Quick lunch tomorrow then?" I ask, this was my last attempt, is he able to show any kind of affection towards me?

"I don't think so" he says and with that i walk out making sure to slam the door behind me.

--

I have trouble leaving the hotel without receiving a few evil glares from twelve year old girls in daisy printed skirts and high waisted shorts, i swear they all looked the same, long straight hair and crop tops, winged eyeliner -those hideous big black boots that were somehow called trendy. They all hoped to catch one of the guys attention, little did they know that this famous boy band had more than enough gorgeous fuck buddies at their fingertips. But of course Zayn and I weren't anything, just the occasional fuck so why was I feeling like this? Why was I sad? He had warned me about this, when we first met he had specifically told me and I quote "Don't do anything stupid babe, don't fall in love with me" I still remembered his icy cold words "if you do, I will ruin you". I shivered as I headed for my car. These boys were full of secrets, they were dark, putting up an act for the entire world. Their fans were clueless and that made it all more amusing.

--

"We have a show in New York, I'm sending you money for your plane ticket" Zayn's caramel accent said through the phone.

It's been exactly two weeks, no calls no texts so of course that meant he had called his other gorgeous groupies to keep him company. I had to make him suffer. Enough was enough, he had to feel the pang of jealousy I had been feeling.

"I don't think so" I reply laying down on my bed and smirking as I heard him freak out.

"What do you mean you don't think so?"

"I'm tired of you, you're a washed up celebrity Zayn, no more"

"If you're not at this fucking hotel by Sunday night I will call someone else"

"Then do it?"

"Baby" he whispered his tone has definitely changed.

"Bye Zayn"

"Wait-"

I hung up and clapped my hands in excitement. Tossing my phone on the bed I ran to my closet. Of course I was going to New York, it's fucking New York. I had to look good to show Zayn what he was about to miss out on.

I packed my little black dress with my thin kitty heels, I checked my bank account and without a doubt it had grown by $3000.

Time to rock this bitch.

--

"Right this way" the Middle Aged man said as he helped me to the hotel rooms. "Thank you, I can take it from here" I reply. Usually the boys made a shitload of noise but not today, everything was quiet. "What are you doing?" A familiar voice asked me. I turned around to face Harry, the witty weird one that always told me I had a nice bum.