Smoke & Mirrors • Zarry

8. Lying to yourself

TW// Mentions depression and panic disorder.

Zayn hadn't heard from Harry in nearly a month; no phone calls, no texts. He hadn't realized that he was so used to Harry being around until he wasn't, and everything felt different. Harry had been stopping by at least once a week for the last year and was a regular customer, someone that Zayn always counted on to need something from him, and Zayn usually went out of his way to find the best strains in London for Harry to try every time he called him up. He had even traveled around to different dispensaries in other cities sometimes, picking up certain kinds of Indica that he knew Harry might like and it had become such a major part of Zayn's routine that he was really starting to feel the weight of Harry's absence.

First Cara, now Harry. It seemed like everyone that Zayn formed some kind of bond with, if he could even truly bond with anyone, was leaving him behind and that creeping feeling of loneliness that Zayn tried to shut out was rearing its ugly head once more as the days went on in the wake of Harry leaving.

Zayn suffered from both panic disorder and depression, which had become more controllable over the last few years, but at one point it had completely taken over his life and consumed him in a way that made living seem unbearable, like he was walking down this long and winding road that lead nowhere and Zayn would often stop and think about how meaningless the days seemed, just wasting time and for what? To die alone in the end? These were the sort of dark thoughts that haunted him a lot, suffocated him, boxed Zayn into a cold corner where there was no light, no way to see.

He hated it.

In this four week span of time he had to force himself to carry on by going about his usual routine; picking up drugs, selling them, seeing his regulars, getting high and playing video games, while trying to maintain a good customer base now that half of them dropped down due to the semester at Northbourne being over, and to make matters worse, within the last few days Zayn had been dodging some suspicious men that he was sure were tailing him; undercover cops, he was convinced. Zayn was certain that's who they were and part of him was becoming increasingly paranoid by the day, popping more Valium than usual, numbing the pressing anxiety that plagued him.

He told Louis about his suspicions, which freaked him out just as much seeing as how Louis was often involved in Zayn's business ordeals, so he made a conscious decision to stop dealing from his flat. The last thing he wanted was to end up in prison. It would be much easier to slink in the shadows for a quick sell than to have people coming in and out all hours of the day and night, drawing more attention to him and his whereabouts. And now Zayn found himself on a run with an ounce of cocaine down a back alley in South London, meeting up with Laney who had suddenly come into some money to support her massive habit.

"Did you finally get a job?" Zayn asked her, handing over the brown paper bag as she exchanged him a wad of money, standing in the eery dark of the alley way in the summer night air.

"They hired me at the Gentlemen's Club," Laney replied, stuffing the bag into her purse and sniffling.

"So you're dancing now?"

"Best way to make fast money. You trying to come around and tip me? They've got a back room if you're looking for something a little more...private," Laney said, offering a subtle wink.

"Yeah maybe I'll drop in sometime," Zayn responded, knowing he probably wouldn't.

"What's it gonna take to get something more out of you, Z? It's getting real boring seeing you avoid human intimacy and relationships like the plague you know," Laney remarked.

"Well good thing I don't live to entertain you."

"Is it really that hard to just let someone love you?" she asked. "There's no way you can possibly be happy like this."