When Zayn Met Perrie

Zayn

Sometimes when we're backstage at a show like this I just feel like running away. Honestly it's just so overwhelming. All the people, all the noise. It hurts my head and I just need to get away. But I can't. I leave, and it all ends. No ones going to love me without the rest of the boys. So instead, I just stand there, allowing myself to be ushered into a make up chair and a women tries to make me look less tired, less fed up. She has a big job on her hands. We are continuously interrupted by acts on the show, wanting advice and pictures, as though what we say will help them. It's not like we won.

Don't ask me why I'm feeling so pessimistic today, it's just been one of those days I suppose. First of all there was the 4am wake up call. I do not do mornings, especially not early ones. I left the house, only to be confronted by a thousand staring eyes, waiting at the bottom of my drive way. I indulged them, took pictures with them, signed things, let them think that I'm all mysterious and brooding when in reality I'm just tired. Don't get me wrong, I love our fans, more then anything. But I can't help but feel like they don't love me quite as much. When we arrived at the studio this morning, I felt as though they swarmed more to the others, only turning to me last or if they had no hope of getting to the others. It was the same when we arrived here at the XFactor, I was just part of the background. But I can't blame the guys, or our girls. It's my own fault really, I just don't deal well with people.

"Ten minutes until we go live" a voice announces. The woman rushes to brush my eyebrows into place and make last minute adjustments to my hair. Rebecca I think her name is. Not that it matters, I don't exactly need to get to know her. I'm in a different place every day, which means different people everyday, which means I'll probably never meet Rebecca ever again. It's hard to make friends when all I hear in my head is that I'll probably never see them again, what's the point?

The show begins, I hear Dermot announcing the judges. Then on goes the first act, a timid girl with a stereotypical booming voice. Then a boy, cool as anything, guitar in his hands. Then a band, a boyband I suppose, yet another one. They're everywhere these days. Constantly they're branded as "the next One Direction". At least I'll always have that, no matter what I will always have been part of the original One Direction and no one can take that from me. And now there's a middle aged man, his "last chance", he is supremely talented. Everyone loves him, for now. Ask them in a year and I doubt they'll remember his name.

I suppose it's nearly time for us to go on now. An act comes off stage, a girlband I think. I haven't been paying attention. They file in behind us, all clambering to get Harry's attention. I flop into my chair, just waiting to be called onstage. That is until I sense someone behind me. Odd, I'm usually the last one they come to. I turn and I am trapped in her magnificent eyes, large as the moon with so much childlike curiosity, she is beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I can't even grasp any words, she has shocked me speach less. She is about to turn away when I find my tongue once more. "Hi" I say to her, "I'm Zayn". She laughs, how beautiful that sounds, like music to my ears, I have no doubt her voice is just as thrilling. She only has to say three words to me, and I'm done. "Hi, I'm Perrie" she says.