stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 5

Charlotte

"He's flying here for 48 hours?"

I down the rest of my lunch glass of wine and nod. "48 hours."

I'd made my friend Alli meet me for a late lunch. Zayn wasn't touching down for two more hours and I needed some liquid courage. And someone to drop me off at the Four Seasons since my car had been acting up again.

"So Zayn Malik is literally requesting your presence when he's only here for two days?"

She's super confused. I can see the wheels in her blonde head spinning, which is fair. I've never told her about our little arrangement before. I've never told anyone. It's definitely a bizarre bombshell to drop.

"I don't think I really believe you," she stabs at her salad and looks at me skeptically. "You have been hooking up with one of the hottest guys in the world and you just forgot to tell me?"

I crinkle my nose and nod to the waiter asking if I want a second glass.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Five months." I sound like a teenager, but I can remember the exact date.

"Charlie! Shut the fuck up!" She screeches and I shush her.

"But like, only when he's in town."

"Oh yeah, no big deal, only when the rock star is in town. I'm sure he's never in Los Angeles."

I feel my cheeks flush.

"How many times have you guys hung out? Like, five?"

I offer a really lame shrug. "About."

Definitely more like ten.

"So is he amazing in bed?" Alli fancies herself a Sex and the City Samantha, while I'm definitely more like... a Charlotte.

I redden some more and just nod once emphatically. She doesn't need to know I have nothing to compare it to.

Despite me never dating anyone in the years I've known her, she seems to just assume I had some crazy high school past. She doesn't need to know I was the epitome of a painfully awkward, antisocial gangly thing growing up.

I got called Skeletor after my sixth grade growth spurt shot me taller than all the boys in junior high. The name stuck and I still shudder when people even say skeleton. Kids in school are ruthless, and the nickname followed me to high school. where I spent most of my time slouching and getting told to eat a cheeseburger.

My limbs were too long for my body and I waited patiently to grow into my features, which, as fate would have it, didn't really happen until the last semester of high school. Then the braces came off and strangers started asking on a pretty regular basis if I modeled, which gave my mother and I the idea.

All I really knew of the modeling world I learned on America's Next Top Model, so I applied. I got through to the final casting, drove down to Los Angeles and ended up getting cut before the final round where they picked who made the actual show. But I got to see Tyra Banks in person and it left me in Los Angeles, where I've been ever since, so it wasn't a total loss.

"How did you guys even meet? Was it at one of Parker's parties?" Alli jars me back to reality, referring to one of our mutual friends that couldn't be more Hollywood if he tried. He knows everybody, throws crazy parties at his house in the Hills and is the most likely way I would have met someone like Zayn.

"I was working actually." Just thinking about how my heart stopped when he stepped in at six in the morning that Monday makes me smile stupidly.

"I'm sorry, excuse me, what? Zayn Malik has been at our restaurant and you never told me?" Alli is pissed now. We work together, and now that I think about it I may have been covering her shift when I met him. "So what happened, he just, like, fell in love with how you poured his coffee?"

I don't really know how it all came about. I obviously knew who he was, but played it cool like I didn't. We talked about... well, nothing really. Small talk. Like really boring weather talk at first, but he was the only customer inside so after I brought his breakfast I then sat down across from him and just kept talking.

He asked what I wanted to do in life and I acted offended like being a waitress was my primary goal and he looked so mortified that I couldn't help but laugh. He eventually joined in and we were lucky we were the only ones there because we probably looked like idiots. It wasn't even that funny.

I asked him what he did and he told me he was an astronomer and we both laughed and I knew he knew I knew. And that was that. But I don't tell Alli all of this.

"We just kind of hit it off, and he was throwing a party that night so he invited me and... the rest is weird, groupie history."

"So does he have groupies on call here or how does it work?"

I had definitely wondered the same thing, but as far as I could tell for the last few months, per the internet, any day he seemed to be in LA he was with me. For some reason I wanted to keep that between us so I don't disclose that bit on information.

"Oh yes, I'm one of many."

"Can I be one too?"

She's serious.

I laugh and push down the feeling of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. Alli is stunning. She's a fellow actress/model/waitress stereotype but she books way more modeling gigs than I do. And most of them are lingerie gigs. I make a mental note to try and keep Alli and Zayn from crossing paths.

"No, but for real. Right now, you just go meet him in a hotel? Is that how it always is?"

"Usually. We go out to low key places he won't be bothered and, well, you know," I raise my eyebrows. It's definitely more than that but I don't need to make this deal sound any sweeter.

"Wow. Well, if a spot opens up, I want in."

I down the rest of my wine and check the time. "I'll be sure to tell him. Are you sure you can drop me on your way home, I can get an Uber."

"No, don't be silly." Alli picks up the check, because at the end of the day she's a really good friend. She's the one I called when I had the flat tire, so she knows how dire my money situation is this month. "I got it. I booked a bikini campaign this morning."

"Congrats! And thank you. You're the best."

"You can repay me by getting me in with Zayn," she winks at me and I fake laugh. I don't need any more competition.

I fiddle with my phone and catch a headline on Twitter about Zayn Malik cancelling a show tonight in Atlanta. Why don't they know it's because of a photo shoot? That's really odd.

I really need to unfollow all these entertainment news twitters, but it's such an easy way to find out what he's up to.

I ignore my overly excited subconscious that surmises he may have cancelled to see me and take in a deep breath. Even if that idiotic idea were true, I still need to play it cool. It's gotten me this far.