Kick, Push

Competition Day: +13

No one needs to tell Zayn how many people are waiting in the stands above him. He can hear their screams, can feel the sound in his chest from the roar of the decibels. And that's just those who are seated in the Olympic Stadium right then and there. It's not counting the millions upon millions of people tuning in on any type of electronic that's got the ability to receive a signal. Maybe not that many people would watch his performance, skateboarding was new to the Olympics this year after all, but everyone watched the Opening Ceremony.

Louis picked up on Zayn's nervous energy hours before when they were sitting around the extreme sports table at the Team GB pre-ceremony dinner. In his head, Zayn knew it was irrational. All they were going to do was wait two or three hours huddled between Georgia and Grenada with the rest of the British athletes, shuffling closer to the arena tunnel until they heard their country's name. From there, all they had to do was walk across the field and exit through a tunnel on the opposite end. It required literally zero skill, other than to put both legs in front of the other and smile, but Zayn's emotions didn't think that black and white when it came to The Games.

Being acknowledged like this, even alongside hundreds of other competitors with his same accent, made it so that Zayn couldn't hide if he lost spectacularly. The second he qualified for his spot he couldn't hide, but finally being in Tokyo made things that much more real, forcing Zayn to realize that there was no backing out now, performance anxiety or not.

The second he and Louis are walking out into the open air, Zayn's emotions become numb. It's how things always go. He thinks that it's from all the adrenaline and the fact that he's thrown in the spotlight in a way that it's do or die, so his instincts kick in enough to not let him perish.

For a minute or two on the long march, Zayn feels pride swell in his chest at how far he's come and how his body's decorated in his home country's colours - a reminder that he's there not just for himself, but to represent a whole nation. Like usual when they're together and in front of cameras, Louis slings his arm around Zayn's shoulders, the younger man letting himself smile at being able to share the moment with someone he loves.

They walk into the after party at the Olympic Village in the same position.

"Are you still on a high, like I am?" Louis nudges Zayn's side with his elbow as they walk up to an abandoned table.

What's got to be the entirety of the Olympic Village has trickled into the banquet hall turned club for the night. The setting reminds Zayn of all the ridiculous nights that he and the boy next to him got trashed when they were younger and felt on top of the world living on their own and making decent money winning championships.

"A bit, yeah," Zayn replies loudly so he can be heard over the blaring music.

Just like anyone else, the two grew out of their incessant partying phase when they dubbed the scenes too repetitive after years of the same light shows and lyricless beats. But every once and awhile, when they were both in a new city together or when one of them would come back to London with a new trophy, they'd venture out to celebrate with one too many jager bombs and a few drunken lipstick stains. Or cologne swaps, those were always good too.

"That was incredible." Zayn almost asks what his friend's referring to, but then it dawns on him where they've all just come from. "Shame we can't go out on the town tonight," Louis says with his head leaned towards Zayn so he doesn't have to shout. "But this doesn't look like a half bad replacement."

A buzz from his pocket has Zayn taking out his phone and seeing that Niall's just texted him that he, Liam, and Harry just pulled up outside.

After the ceremony, all athletes were ushered into coaches that took them back to the Village in order to avoid any hectic attention that was sure to have ensued after the ceremony if any of them stuck around, the staff and volunteers getting the second round of private transport once all the countries were announced. It left Zayn and Louis enough time to go up and change out of their required British kit and into something more their style - ripped jeans and t-shirts.