When Harry met Z

Z Speaks out

"Hi, Barbara Remick. This is a friend of Harry Styles, you just wrote a piece on the LA Times about him and I."

Z paused. Took a deep breath, and continued typing:

"Would it be possible to meet you?"

"Thanks, am in LA until the end of the week"

Sent. 

Barbara was busy in the newsroom with new assignments. 

She looked at the text and smiled.

-My, my, my. What do we have here? Mr. Z himself. 

She was busy but quite but curious, as journalists always are. She quickly responded:

"Sure, I can make time. Where do you want to meet. Am free this afternoon."

Z typed a response. 

"Am sending you the address, it's my office, let's meet at 4pm?

"That works"

Z

Sorry guys, am going to insert myself here. Not fair that only Harry has a voice, and I don't want to stay mute, this story has two sides. 

Keep calling me Z, or ZM, whatever feels right to you. You all know who I am. Sorry if this feels like an intrusion, not my intention to scare you guys, I will be brief...promise.

A few days ago, to my dismay, I came upon the news once the article was published. Harry was not lying when he told me about talking to the press. That cheeky monkey...

He knows I am very private person. I don't like to be in the limelight like him. He handles media much better than I'll ever do. My background is one thing that makes me feel really, really very self-conscious. Whereas, on the other hand, Harry is privileged, he can be as free as he wants, freer than I will ever be. 

He had shown me a sort of diary, I was happy that he was writing. For me, it was poetry, there is nothing like poetry. I find great solace in literature. What I didn't know is that he was writing about us, and that he had planned to make our story public. 

That scared the sh-t out of me. Gosh. Not in a thousand years. You don't have the right to do that Harry Styles!

I demanded from him, to let me write here, to talk to you guys, maybe I need to set the record straight? He owes me that. I also want him to stop writing about me. Get a life, dude.

First of all, do you want me to confirm all the things he has claimed happened between us? Hmmm. Do I really need to? Haven't you seen enough evidence? I know some of you call us "Zarry" ( I once even worn a baseball cap with "Zarry" on it. It was cute.) 

You know? Five years is a long time. I was in that boy band for five years. It is longer than college. On those years, I met many, many people, many girls (I was even engaged to one). I learned lots on the industry, and was able to help my family with the money we earned. AM grateful for all of that. It was fun, I adored every minute of it. Karma or destiny had a role in bringing us together. To me, I had dreams of being a singer, but never in my wildest dreams I would have envisioned that...so amazing opportunity. 

But, I was always different, I was the only "non-white" one. I was very self aware of that. It made me uncomfortable, sometimes it was the elephant in the room. Everyone knew I was different. But no one talked about it. Also, there is a such a misunderstanding about us, and I mean, us, people who come from Muslim countries. You know what I mean? I can already see some of you frowning the eyebrows. It is a tabu. I know. Bear with me.

I am British, don't get me wrong, but culturally I was brought up in a part of the UK that is filled with people like me. My neighbourhood, my friends, they were all...but, not completely. It is complicated. A lot of us had mixed the elements of various cultures. And we accepted that. To this day, I am not sure I want to call myself a Muslim. But, I wish it could be debated without being labeled something horrible. I wish it wasn't censored...

So...I carried that huge elephant with me. Not able to talk about it, or just pretending we were all the same... Get it?

I was labeled the "mysterious", so typical. The ethnically different is always the mysterious, exotic, etc. Right? Am I neither those. Such a bummer. Nah. I am just a regular guy, who loves music, arts in general. 

So, how did I get through those five years? Perhaps thanks to him. The only person who seemed sensitive to my inner thoughts. This cute curly haired guy.  He had a feminine side, maybe? ( this is a cliché, I know, right?). But he was more open than the others; am not shading anyone, they are all great. But, curly hair was more inquisitive, more caring. He actively tried to put me out there, always tried to dissipate my doubts. 

I loved him for that, maybe if he wasn't there I wouldn't have stayed so long in the band. 

MY privacy has always been golden to me. Golden. I never did anything for clout, is that how you guys call it? 

I mean, I never did anything for publicity. 

Sorry, I have to stop this. The LA Times journalist has arrived, will be back.

(To be continued...)