Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

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(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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A seeker of silences am I,

and what treasure have I found in silences

that I may dispense with confidence?

Kahlil Gibran - The Prophet

Jay and I separated the next morning when we touched down at Heathrow, and I booked him a ride home back to Bradford. Time to be on my own for a while to sort my thoughts without the paranoia of someone observing my every move and asking if I was alright every couple of hours. Bridget, a member of Modest, met me at the airport to ensure I'd arrived safely, and that I got directly into a luxury SUV hired to take me home. She made me sign a few release forms in the backseat, acknowledging that I was voluntarily leaving tour for a few shows, before sending me on my way; paparazzi hot on my tail.

A few fans had swarmed in the airport terminal, like I'd kicked over a fallen beehive, but I sidestepped them with apologies, knowing that if I stopped for one with the level of heat on me just now, I'd be mobbed and wouldn't make it out alive. The one thing they asked me over and over was if I was coming back to the band. As if that was anything I was willing to discuss while on the run. Still, the question kept coming. It was like a knife to the heart each time, because with each passing hour, I resigned to the idea that it was over. I feared that if I attempted to insert myself back into that extraordinarily anxious state I'd been in back in Hong Kong, my body would slip into a catatonic state and never recover.

Home didn't feel like home when I arrived. Just an echoey shell waiting to receive me. It greeted me with all the terseness of a mom picking up an expelled student, for which she had to leave work early. Whatever, I muttered beneath my breath. I didn't need a home anyway. Just a building. Any building would do really, just to hide me from the noise. As expected, the paps had followed me from the airport, and if it weren't for the privacy fence surrounding my yard, they'd have followed me up to the doorstep and clambered into the shower behind me. Inside, the lights were off, almost like no one was home, but I knew she was waiting. I'd spoken to her early in the morning the day before, and she'd been expecting me hours ago. I hadn't found the opportunity to let her know the flight was rescheduled. Peeling the brown leather jacket off, which I'd dug out of my carryon mid-flight, I headed upstairs.

"Pez?" I approached the master suite, clearing my throat. The door was ajar and the lights were off, so I pushed it open tentatively and headed inside. She was asleep, I realized, after flicking the lights on. Was I ready to wake her and deal with this? Not really. Would it be stupid of me to leave and pretend I hadn't come home? Probably. Even so, it's what I wanted to do. As soon as I flicked the light back off, she woke.