Z.A.Y.N.

TRACK 3

Liam had answered that there wasn't anything he was truly afraid of, but five days later, pulling up to Zain's flat, he's second guessing his confidence.

It's not as though he's scared for himself, he's got a good uppercut if need be, he's more worried that his new, limited edition pick up truck won't be there when he's ready to leave.

A fair warning came with Zain's offer to use his place as their next meet up location: you're not going to blend in with the neighborhood.

At the time, Liam hadn't given it much thought, but when Zain sent him over his address the day before and he saw the specific part of East London he needed to drive to, he started to wonder if he made the right decision saying yes. Even with his weariness, he still got dressed that morning in a white t-shirt and blue jeans and ventured across the city.

"Hey, you alright?" Zain greets, wiping his eyes of the sleep that was still evident when he opens the door for Liam to come in.

Before he steps into the common stairwell, the singer looks over his shoulder. "You sure my car's good?"

"I don't have a garage, so you don't really have a choice." Liam turns to Zain with a small glare. "I'm just saying," the older man shrugs playfully, liking seeing Liam out of his comfort zone. "It'll be fine. It's got a good alarm system I assume." And with that, Zain turns to walk up the stairs to his flat.

It's 1 PM, and he's already done so twice, but Liam still pushes the lock button on his keys before following Zain and shutting the door behind him.

When they reach the top of the stairs and enter Zain's flat, Liam's charmed by the cosy feeling the one bedroom accommodation has to offer. Stepping into the sitting room, there's a steel grey couch to his right with a matching side table on one end and a floor lamp on the other. To his left there's a stand holding a white electric guitar and another with an acoustic right next to it. The third wall has a huge bay window facing the front street (of which Liam's grateful and takes a moment to peek over and get a look at his truck), a desk with an iMac and silicon drum board situated on top of it, and an electric keyboard to its left. Lastly, the furthest wall has an enormous bookshelf that's full to the brim, the corner that it shares with the bay window wall housing a makeshift recording "booth" that's really just a couple of mattresses constructed to stay up around a professional mic.

Liam settles in the middle of the room where there's a red and gold decorative rug covering the carpet. "This is the perfect set up," he reveres, trying to make out the frames that cover the space above the guitars.

"The best part's the sound system."

Looking up, Liam can see that he's somehow missed the speakers in each of the upper corners of the room. "We'll have to test it later," he winks, taking note of how it gets Zain to crack a smile.

"First, food," the older man declares, walking out of the room and into the conjoining one.

Liam's unsure if he should follow or not, but he figures it's a safer bet than staying alone. "Did you just wake up?" He asks, leaning against the entryway of the kitchen that Zain's currently buzzing around. It's a valid question given how raspy the other's voice is and the way he's having to force himself to gather ingredients from the fridge and carry them to the countertop.

"I only get one day off a week," Zain prefaces, unwinding the tie at the end of his bread loaf. "You're mad if you don't think I'm going to sleep in as much as possible. I'd go for longer, but then I'd be fucked for tomorrow." He pulls out two pieces of bread before turning to Liam. "Do you want cheese on toast?"

Hearing such an average food be Zain's choice for lunch makes Liam wonder if he only eats Chinese when he's at work. If it were him, he's not sure he'd be able to even eat that much of the cuisine. "No, I'm not all that hungry. Besides, diet and all that."