slow it down // zayn malik

chapter two // loathing.

Zayn's pov

"Zayn, wake up!" I feel a hand shake me profusely, causing me to sit up in my uncomfortable seat with a jerk.

Rubbing my eyes, I glance over to Harry; who's flashing me one of his most excited grins, his dimples even making an appearance on his face. At some point when I was asleep, he pulled his curly hair out of his eyes with one of those damn rolled up bandanas.

"We're here, mate!" He cheers loudly, throwing a fist in the air as he drives rather recklessly.

Looking out the window, my head wraps around where we are exactly; The Ragstock Music Festival. This morning Harry picked me up at the most ungodly hour so we could drive down here to southern California for this festival.

But he certainly wasn't exaggerating when he talked this place up. Every person that we pass looks like the most interesting person on earth. Girls walk around half naked in colorful skirts with flowers in their hair, looking like something from another world. It's as if I've woken up in some fantasy land with beautiful women everywhere I look.

The corners of my lips turn up as Harry reaches over and messes with my hair, letting out an excited laugh. He drives our rental car, searching for an empty place to park. The day's only just begun and this place is packed.

This should be an interesting week...

"God this place is magnificent," I admit as we pull into an empty space, located directly beside a large tie dye tent vacated by a group of guys all in matching dread locks.

They give us a wave as we emerge from our car, greeting us with incredibly friendly faces. It's doubtful they have any idea who we are, yet they look enthusiastic to see us.

I glance down at my outfit, biting my bottom lip with worry. I had no idea what to expect coming into this thing, so I just threw on a pair of my ripped black jeans and a sleeveless red flannel, unbuttoned just far enough so you can see my chest tattoos.

Just quickly glancing at Harry, I'm relieved when he's dressed similarly in a pair of black jeans with a shredded black tank top that flashes most of his tattoos as well. And of course he's wearing those god-damned boots of his.

"You look great, mate," Harry slaps me on the back as we head down the gravel road that leads us towards where all the action is.

But we don't get very far until we're stopped by groups of girls; groups of incredibly pretty girls, may I add. Harry gives me a mischievous look, as he always does when a pretty girl gets anywhere near me. Rolling my eyes, I put my hands around bare waists as we pose for pictures.

My eyebrows raise at how straightforward these girls are with their intentions. A laugh rumbles in my chest as a girl bites her bottom lip and smile seductively at me.

"Hey, later you guys should stop by our tent if you're feeling like a good time," One daring blonde says, placing her hand on my bare chest, flashing me a dazzling smile.

"Oh, we'll be there," Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder so the three of us are all chest to chest.

"Awesome," She smirks as she walks away, making her long flowy skirt move as she swings her hips. I bite my bottom lip, trying to suppress my excited grin.

As annoyed as I was that Harry was dragging me to one of Olivia's gigs, I can't thank him enough now. This is exactly what I needed. We've been working non-stop for nearly a year now, and finally I can relax and enjoy the finer things in life.

I stretch my arms out, my smile not fading from my face as Harry and I make our way further into the depths of the festival. I can't help but to feel on top of the world as girls smile and wave as we walk past, like a set of kings.