Trainspotting for a Heroin Dream

3. Decisions, Decisions

*Zayn POV*

After last night's rendezvous, Zayn realized that this girl was taking an interest to him. Sure, it seemed really quick and they only had sex, but it was clear that she wanted him. Zayn wasn't upset or creeped out about it, because he felt the same way about her, too.

Zayn had asked Harry to go thrift shopping with him, since he only brought clothes that he thought he would need. New York weather around this time got really bumpy, plus he just wanted a reason to talk to Harry.

"So, you and Crystal, are you guys together or what?" Zayn asked, looking around the store and running his hands through the racks of flannels and sweatshirts.

"If I knew myself, I would tell you, dude. I guess we are, but at the same time we're not, you know?" Harry asked, checking out other articles of sweatshirts.

"No. So, anyone else live with her?" Zayn said, asking the obvious question.

"Yeah, you goof. Her name is Chelsea, but she's not really one to hang around with on a daily basis." Zayn was completely puzzled. Why wouldn't he want to hang around her? She seemed pretty nice to him for these past two days (the moments he wasn't intoxicated, at least).

"Why not?"

"She's just...different. I hung out with her once, and it wasn't too fun. She got angry with me and called me a 'butt whore'," Harry said. Zayn couldn't help but laugh. Although it sounded pretty bad, it also sounded pretty ridiculous! "It's not funny."

"I know, I know. That's really crazy, but it's funny at the same time." Zayn said, unaware that Harry had heard that last part.

"Anyways, she's not a good person. She runs with a tough crowd, and I heard she once got in with a drug dealer or some type of shit." Harry continued. A drug dealer?! From what he was hearing, she didn't sound too pleasant, but from what he saw, she wasn't the type to do that at all.

"Wow. So, if all of that's true, what the hell were you doing with her?" Zayn added.

"Hey, I said I heard it. It came to my attention after that. You know what they say: don't believe everything you hear. Anyways, what's been up with you these past couple of days?" Harry acknowledged as they kept walking through the aisles of clothes.

"What do you mean?" he answered.

"I mean what's up with you. You've been acting really weird these last two days. You've just been sleeping a lot and-"

"Is it a crime to sleep a lot? I've been really tired and I have a lot on my plate," Zayn testified.

"You've kinda been distance with us, too. Is everything alright?" Harry declared.

"Yes! I'm fine, man, okay? Look, if shit ever happens, you'll be the first one to know, okay?" Zayn exclaimed, wanting to end the conversation already. He was doing just fine. It wasn't like he was doing this shit on purpose or to worry anybody.

On another note, why would Harry object from him being with Chelsea? Harry said he only heard that crap, so that only meant that it possibly couldn't be true. Zayn just shrugged his shoulders and continued to look around.

As he looked around, rage was growing inside of him. Why the hell was everyone so worried about him in the first place? He was doing just fucking fine! Sure, he was sleeping a lot, but who the hell doesn't sleep when they're on the road constantly? It was good that Harry hadn't brought up the smoking or the drinking, because that would've really sent him over the edge.

"I'm sorry, sir," a voice said from behind him. Zayn turned around to see a skinny, red-head girl and a smaller version of her, bouncing up and down with excitement and cheesing from ear to ear. "Um, my sister's from Bradford, too, and she really, really likes the band. In fact, she loves you. Could we take a picture with you?" That was all it took for Zayn to snap.

"WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYBODY WANT SOMETHING FROM ME!?" he barked, shocking everyone in the store. Zayn brushed past the girls, stalked through the aisle, and stormed out the store as Harry repeatedly called his name. He didn't even know where he was going or watch where he was going; just kept walking until he ran into somebody.