Z.A.Y.N.

TRACK 12

Waking up the next morning was rough, and to Liam's surprise, it wasn't due to the hour; Zain's alarm went off at a generous 8:30. It was the raspy, sleep induced voice that told him 'I need to be out of here by nine' when Liam squeezed him tight in a dramatic stretch that made it difficult to leave the duvet sanctuary. Eventually Liam complied and got changed into his clothes from the day prior in the front room so Zain could have peace choosing another black on black ensemble for the day's work. He'd done them the service of making coffee, sipping from his mug as he watched the other pack them both a change of clothes for that night, since Liam deemed it useless to drive home if he was just going to need to be back in the city in a little over twelve hours.

The drive to Chinatown hadn't been what Liam expected either. Music is his and Zain's connection, so he was under the assumption they'd blast the radio and beat the London morning traffic that way, but the hour drive was occupied by the opposite. Rather than hooking up his phone to the truck's Bluetooth when he got in, Zain pulled out a small book from his bag, explained that in comparison to his night, his morning commute was when his attention was at its highest, and therefore he could concentrate on whatever he was currently reading; at night, he could listen to music tiredly.

Right off the bat, Liam could tell it was the type of book that was going to go over his head. With an author whose name was Dostoyevsky, how could it not? He didn't need to tell this to Zain, it was obvious by the way the older man included a running commentary on what the Russian scholar was trying to say, that he knew where Liam's comprehension level was.

Listening to Zain's interpretation of the poetic short story, and the way his voice transformed the words into ones with movement, was unlike any other experience Liam had reading on his own. Granted, he wasn't the biggest of readers to begin with, but Zain made him want to be. He wanted to go out and buy complicated, philosophical books that he could barely pronounce the words of and lay on Zain's bed in his cramped bedroom, listening to what it all meant. Try and grasp more of what Zain means when he says time periods, authors' countries of birth, and nearby war zones influence how an Italian from the Renaissance might write differently than a mid-century American. In between chapters, Zain would cook them something new, Liam sitting on the countertop getting told off for sticking his finger into a sauce when it wasn't ready, or begging to help cut up something, only to be shooed out of the kitchen after getting the sizing wrong. He wanted that. And when he pulls out from in front of the deserted Chinatown gate after Zain bids him adieu, the fantasy nearly made him drive to the nearest bookstore and make it a reality.

Instead, he ends up at the gym, grateful for the locker that he rents there for instances like this - where he wasn't planning on coming, but finds himself with time to get in a session. He doesn't tell that to Louis when he meets him for lunch though, only makes it out like it was any other day that included a morning workout. The manager already pries as much as he can to know all the gossip on Liam and Zain's 'working' relationship, that letting him in on his night with the writer willingly would've been a death wish. To keep himself in the clear, Liam doesn't even mention what he's doing with Zain later that night because that too will surely cause a rumour mill that he wants nothing to do with, even if the only other person that would partake in Louis' comical banter would be Harry.

And maybe his personal assistant, who he gets together with for a small dinner after catching up with his mates for the afternoon. But she's a lot more professional than Louis, as made evident by the way she refrained from making any sort of suggestive comment when she handed him over the keycard for the hotel room he'd requested for her to get for him that night, only held a cheeky close lipped smile when he thanked her graciously.

He may put his career in Louis' hands (which invariably turned into the man becoming his best friend), but it's his PA who he trusts with basically everything else. She knows his likes and dislikes more intimately than anyone, has seen Liam at his best, and inevitably his worst because she was the one who was tasked with doing what it took to try and help him out of it with booking helpful services or buying tangible goods that might uplift his spirits. If it weren't for her, Liam would be lost, and not just because he's a mess with schedule keeping.