Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

34

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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We're so late nights

Red eyes, amnesia, on ice

Late nights, red eyes, amnesia, I need ya

Zayn – dRuNk

Before I knew it, I'd reached the leafy tranquility of Hampstead and my world made sense again. How had I ended up here exactly? It wasn't fair to him. I hadn't called beforehand, and I had no idea if he was even home. Neither had I bothered to inform him I was in London. He'd been busy doing press and secret shows and tons of appearances with all of his friends on the radio and primetime TV, and here I was, busted up and lost, begging at his doorstep like a common creep.

This was officially stalking. I hadn't been invited. What if he had company? What would I say to him in this state? That I'd flown here unannounced, injured my hand, and now was in need of him to take care of me? Inexcusable and pathetic. Pulling over a block away from his house, I dialed him up to see if he was home. The phone rang and rang to no avail. I then texted and waited a few minutes, but still nothing. As I took off, I drove past his place and noted that all of the lights were out. He was likely not in London anymore. He'd probably gone to visit his mom and stepdad whose health was worsening, before heading back to LA.

Embarrassed, I floored the gas and zoomed away, out of his neighborhood and away from any hopes of instantaneous comfort. When I grew tired and swerved a few times, I slowed down, not wanting to kill anyone. The pain seemed to only get worse as the night wore on, so I thought about heading to the nearest ER. As I pulled over to navigate it, my phone rang.

"Hey...you ok?" he asked, gruffly.

"Did I wake ya?"

"Mm-hm," he exhaled, breath filling the speaker. "It's ok. I wasn't in bed though. I fell asleep on the couch with the guitar."

"Youh home?"

"Mm-hm. You?"

"Noh...noh, babe, actually...I'm in London."

"What?" He woke up then.

"Yeah..." I popped another Marlboro in my mouth, struggling to light it as I spoke. "I got here earlier today."

"Why didn't you call?"

"Sorry...I was exhausted."

"I didn't know you were making a trip over. Why didn't you say anything? We could've planned something or met up—"

"Well, I'd like to, anyweh. I'm here now."

"Hey, uh...why you calling so late anyway? Why aren't you asleep?"

"Dunno, really," I shrugged, peering through the shadows that surrounded me. The streetlights were out. Only the moon shone here, but the night was cloudy. "I just had an urge to get up...to get out. Ever feel that way?" I exhaled into the cab and the smoke became so overwhelming I cracked a couple of windows. "I'm stuck in the car."

"Why?"

"Couldn't sleep, babe. Was starvin' too. It's late, innit?"

"Taryn here?"