Figure 8

8. Dancing in the dark.

~Mason Nicole's POV~

I put on my white cropped shirt along with my black skirt and some black combat boots to match. I assumed this is what you wear to house parties. I've never been to one. I definitely wasn't wearing heavy makeup like the trashed girls at house parties. I was wearing winged liner with my usual falsies mascara and red lipstick. Normally, I wear little to no foundation.

I jump slightly to the sound of something -a rock, hitting my window. Zayn, obviously, being the one who threw it.

"Mason!" He whisper loud enough for me to hear. "Jump down."

"Are you crazy?" I look at the long way down.

"Yes." He bluntly answers. "Jump down I'll catch you."

I'm crazy enough to agree to this. I stand on the window balcony and search for Zayn's hands. I aim and jump of with a light scream. Seconds later I was in Zayn's arms. He starts running blocks and blocks away from our neighborhood before he sets me down.

"I had to get us away from there before your parents spot us." He heavily breathes.

"Where is the place?"

"Few more blocks down then two blocks up." Zayn kinda matches with me. Black jeans, black converse, plain white shirt, and a leather jacket.

Once we get there I feel chills. The neighborhood looked like a ghost town. Shot up houses, broken homes, rusty cars. I stand closer to Zayn as we entered the streets.

"Didn't I tell you it's not safe." He mumbles.

"Zayn don't start with me." I grit my teeth.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." He holds my hand.

He stops right infront of this one house, the one house on the street that's not absolutely broken.

"This is it?"

"This is it." A small crowd of people were entering and exiting the house. It stands out because it was probably the only house with fully working electricity.

"Hey Zayn." A tall dark-skinned man sitting on the porch of the house waves.

"Hey man." He answers.

"Hello blondie." His tone was more interested now. Zayn's jaw clenches.

"Hi." I say politely.

We walk in and everyone was 'this' close. He holds my hand even tighter as we push through the crowd. We get to the kitchen where two boys are sitting on the counter.

"These are my friends Danny and Anthony." Zayn points to either one.

They're quite adorable actually, that was my first thought on them. Right off the bat I could tell their brothers.

"You're the one I talked to on the phone." Danny tilts his head.

"Oh yeah! I recognized the voice." I laugh trying not to seem scared. "Hi Anthony." I wave.

"Hey! So she knows the drill right?" Anthony finally speaks.

"Drill?" I look at Zayn.

"Since you don't wanna drink just stay away from those guys right there so you don't get offered a giant bottle of vodka." He says all in on breath.

"Easy." I shrug. "You guys are gonna drink?"

"Not this time." I could hear them playing Cuckoo by Adam Lambert in the living room. "Oh my god I love this song!" I shoot Zayn a pleading look.

"Noo." He over exaggerates. "I don't dance."

"I reckon anyone who goes to parties regularly has to dance."