electric youth - ziam au

s i x

( unedited )

The night goes on for ages - almost as if it was played out in slow motion - and everyone loves it. Zayn thanks the entire world for everything in those moments. He thanks it for drugs and alcohol and he makes sure to thank it twice for hot girls.

It was like he was inside some movie about rebel teenagers and suicide. Whenever he stood up he was immediately surrounded by bouncing drinks and swaying bodies. Zayn's drugs had been strewn across the house, and it seemed that everyone had taken some.

The music was pounding throughout his head, and it was the best feeling. This, was Zayn's scene. He loved the flailing bodies attempting to dance to the songs they couldn't name if they tried. He enjoyed watching rookies drink and get high more than he liked doing it himself, and the way some handled it made him laugh in a way he never would. He watched the way the girls jumped around with their skirts riding up their thigh and how all the boys watched with squinted eyes and bottles to their mouths, slowly undoing their shirts.

Zayn got to pouring his fifth drink, accepting the fact he'd probably have to take some of his profit and use it for a cab. He was pulled away from the table halfway through the glass, automatically being attached to someone's lips.

He didn't give a single care who they belonged to, as long as his pants came off in the end. That was another reason Zayn loved these parties. Suddenly he was glad Harry hadn't done this deal with him, because after Niall told him all about their day out, he wouldn't let Zayn sleep with someone else.

He was dragged upstairs in a very large bedroom. His clothes were thrown into separate corners of the room and her clothes were hardly hanging onto her shoulders. The bed sheets were already on the bed, and Zayn's vision was blurring from the alcohol as the night was completely lost in sticky heat and satisfied moans.

When he woke up, it was three in the afternoon and his clothes seemed to be missing. He opened the closet across from the bed, relieved to see some clothes that may just fit him.

He slid on some jeans (which ended up being much too big for him) and a sweatshirt. He found his phone right outside the door and his keys down the stairs.

"Who are you, exactly, and what are you doing in my clothes?" Zayn jumped at the deep voice. He had been jumping over drunk bodies to get the door.

"'M Zayn. Had a mishap upstairs... Clothes are missing and I'd rather not go home naked." He laughed, continuing to walk toward the door.

"You know that's stealing, right, Zayn?" He put his hands on his hands on his hips, making him roll his eyes.

"And...?"

"Hey! Stieg! Looks like you got lucky last night huh? Kelli looks absolutely hammered." Someone called from up the stairs, coming out of the room Zayn had just been in.

"You - fuck you. That's absolutely rancid." 'Stieg' yelled at Zayn, piecing it all together. It's not like it was Zayn's fault... He should've treated his girlfriend better, considering the fact she'd rather get off with a stranger than her boyfriend.

"My God, take a breath. She's probably not going to remember a second of last night..." Zayn rolled his eyes again, reaching the door. His hand touched the knob and he jumped at the sudden sound of glass. He turned around quickly to see a shattered plate and an angry man. "Are you crazy!?" Zayn shouted, frozen in the spot.

It wasn't until he reached for a vase did Zayn snap out of it and was at the door and straight into his car. He immediately noticed he had left his wallet inside, stuffed in his missing jacket pocket, but did not want to set foot in that house again. Even if it meant losing a hundred profit. Someone in there wasn't exactly a good drunk.