It was always under repair - his heart, his aches, his feelings. As Zayn walked down the old lanes covered in moss, he felt himself a petal falling out from the flower, which was always looked after by someone, and that someone was not there anymore. He felt the count decreasing - from five to six, then to two, and now to zero, just like him. Despair, what to call it more, he asked it enough times, not knowing how to answer. " We will figure this out " - the compromised words, " You are the quiet one " the giggled conversations, it was not there anymore... To travel down Wolverhampton, to go in search of that someone whom he lost, to find the broken pieces and fix himself, Zayn found darker, greyed-out sceneries, and scattered memories. He remembered wrapping his arms around Liam, running down the Bradford sideways arm in arm, how his Dad used to pat his shoulders, and many more. Will he be able to accept the change he beholds, will that someone be able to accept Zayn?