Deep (Zarry AU)

Harry, LA, August 2015

August was the month Zayn was seen in the Warwick Club, Sunset Boulevard, several times.

By now, he told himself, he really should have gotten used to that bank of heat that bumps into you when you step off a flight that starts in London and finishes in LA. But still it surprised Harry, making him almost - ironically - shiver and smile with a kind of excitement. Excitement because things always happened to him here in LA. Different things. New things.

He shifted his sunglasses off the top of his head and over his eyes, heard the last thunk of boot sole on metal as he stepped off the stairs onto the pale tarmac. He shrugged his Paul Smith holdall into his other hand and jogged forward to the waiting car.

*

It was always supposed to be a secret when Harry was recording solo. But really, how much did it take for people to work out what he was doing on these trips, to Hollywood – thousands of miles from his beloved London - without the other boys, and with no specific event to attend or significant other to see.

But this time Harry had kind of engineered it. Kind of persuaded Max, who was working with a few other artists in LA at the time, that he and Harry really needed to add something to the tracks they'd laid down last time, in the few days Harry had on his break from touring. So it wasn't really necessary. But Harry had persuaded himself that it was. And it was nothing to do with the string of articles on TMZ, and DM and Hollywood Life, that showed Him coming out of that same club, on Sunset, night after night. The one Harry had been to before with Kendall and Kimberley and even Taylor, once, by mistake. No, it was absolutely nothing to do with that.

Nick, as usual, had called it.  

"Well, he might just be experimenting with new things. Ever thought of that, Stylo? It's not just you that enjoys going to La La Land and living the rock star dream, you know. "

"But it's not him, Nick. I mean, when has he ever hung out in LA that much before? He always told us that when he had time off all he wanted to do was go home, be with 'is family. That's the impression I always got, anyway. And what was all that stuff about wanting to leave the band so he could live a normal life? Since when did that equate to hanging on Sunset Strip with a bunch of homies and your hair dyed green?"

"Well, that was before 'e split up from 'is fiancée, wasn'it?" Nick said, overdoing the Northern accent as he tended to when he was bored.

Harry was silent, frowning and picking at the hole in his jeans that exposed his entire kneecap.

Nick continued: "You know, it's like when a woman has a break-up and gets a new haircut. Zayn maybe... gets a new...umm... country. " Harry could tell that Nick had really had enough of the conversation, so he decided to change the subject before the internet connection broke down (as it kept doing, despite the fact that they were in the same city).

"Did I tell you that I'm going to LA?" Harry said. There was a pause as Nick appeared to take this in. "On the next break."

Nick stared at him for a moment.

"What... you mean you're going to LA for the two days you have between shows?"

"It's a bit longer than that. Ah think."

Nick sighed. "Let's face it, Harold, you have no idea of your schedule. Well, as long as someone else has arranged it for you, it will be ok. Everyone knows that if you had to book a flight yourself you'd end up stranded somewhere in Alaska or something while the rest of the band'd be desperately trying to sing your parts at the O2!"