stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 45

Charlotte

"Alright, you could be here, here, here or there."

He might be the most excited I've ever seen him. We're sitting on our bed and his eyes are dancing and he's gesturing wildly to a map of the stadium he's playing in Vancouver and giving me options of where I'd like to sit for my first Zayn Malik concert.

"Or you could stay backstage," he adds.

I can't help but smile, he looks like he's talking about what ride I want to go on first at Disneyland.

"Could I stay backstage?" I ask, all the other places feeling too far away even though one of the options is the front row.

"If you're worried about, y'know, fans, I could also get you in one of the boxes..." his eyebrows crunch together and he points to the sections of private suites.

"No, it's not that," I shake my head. "Backstage just sounds perfect. Closer to you and out of the way."

"You're not going to be in anyone's way," he says. "I think everyone is excited to meet you."

I forget he has this family he spends a good six months out of the year with, and that they probably know more about him than I do. But I remember I've disrupted their lives a few times in the last month and worry they won't exactly be welcoming me with open arms.

"Alright if it's backstage my Charlie wants, it's backstage she gets!" His smile is back and he's firing off an email to whoever coordinates those sorts of things on his team and I'm liking being called "my Charlie."

"What time's our flight tomorrow?" I ask, for probably the fourth time. I can't help it if I have a mental block against getting in a metal container that is going to launch me into another country. I'm more than a little nervous, despite our first class tickets and the pretty boy who will be sitting beside me.

"Eight," Zayn replies, glancing at me out of the side of his eye. "You're so worried, aren't you?"

He had offered to charter a private plane, but I had done some googling and discovered commercial aircrafts are bigger and safer so I opted first class on Air Canada.

"Just a bit," I shrug nonchalantly and pretend I haven't been near the brink of a panic attack every time I remember tomorrow's plan.

"It's going to be fine. I promise you. I went a stretch where I was on a plane about fifteen times a month and I'm alive."

That doesn't make me feel better, because it's more the curiosity that's killing me. Not knowing what it feels like to be up there. Not knowing if I'm going to get sick like the time I went on a cruise to Alaska in the sixth grade.

"I don't think getting seasick will apply up there, I swear." As I'm learning he can, he seems to read my knitted brows and know my fear. I'm never going to sleep tonight.

I slide myself off of the bed and scurry off into the closet, partially to avoid the subject and partially because we're meeting Alli and her new boyfriend for dinner and I need to look presentable.

"I think it will be a slam dunk if I my best friend's boyfriend, who is also coming to dinner, just happens to be Zayn Malik, don't you?" Alli had exclaimed, sharing her plan to snag the guy she'd been obsessing over for the last month. So I'd agreed, because she's the greatest friend and because I'm leaving her for weeks to go follow my boyfriend around on tour.

"Where's dinner?" Zayn's voice calls from the bed as I pull on black jeans.

"Nobu," I reply as I steal a flannel from his side of the closet. I poke my arms through my own leather jacket and slide on some ankle boots before deeming myself ready. "We've got to leave in like ten minutes."