Chapter One

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 The only reason Zayn wakes up is because he hurts. His side hurts; his head aches; his lip has possibly split back open and the metallic taste of blood floods his mouth. When he was nine years old he'd jumped off the top of his bunk bed, thinking he could fly, and he swears that breaking his arm back then hurt a hell of a lot less than this.

Okay, that's not the only reason why he's awake. But it's the only reason he's not getting out of bed and throttling Niall and Louis for waking him up. Normally, he might actually throw things. Louis would call him a diva for it, but Zayn wouldn't mind. If he could actually manage to roll over without the pain in his ribs making him nauseous, he would do so right now.

As it is, he just moans and buries his face deeper in his pillow.

Someone gently cards their fingers through his hair, and he knows without a doubt that it's Harry. It couldn't be anyone else. Louis is the opposite of gentle 90% of the time, and Niall's form of comforting someone is paying for the next round and a pat on the back. "How're you feeling?" Harry asks, confirming his thoughts.

"Like four guys beat the shit out of me," Zayn spits, knowing bitterness is etched into each word. "Oh, wait, that actually happened."

He turns his head just in time to see Harry's wince, and he's sure that look is mirrored on his own face, because his cheek starts throbbing now, too. He can only imagine how he looks right now, but he really doesn't want to see his reflection any time in the near future.

The bed dips, and he figures Niall has sat himself down. It can't be Louis, because Louis' now crouching beside the bed, face level with Zayn's. "I'm not going to feel bad for you," he says.

"Louis," Harry warns. "Not right now."

"Then when?" Louis snaps. "The next time? When they decide not to leave him in one piece? He's reckless, Harry, and I'm sick about caring for someone who doesn't know how to care for himself."

Zayn tries to glare at him, he really does, but the gash in his eyebrow makes facial expressions painful. He refuses to admit that Louis has a point, though. He would have been fine yesterday. He was at a club, hanging out with a few friends from home during his break, and of course he didn't bring security with him. Like he wants everyone reminded of the fact that he's not like them; that he's not normal. That he's Zayn Malik, International R&B star, who once opened for Usher and has toured in dozens of countries and currently has a number one single in twenty-seven. Hell, he was at that dingy club with his friends for that exact reason; no one would ever think they'd find him there.

Only he had went to the bathroom, and that group of guys just outside the door recognized him. Or maybe it had nothing to do with that. They could have just been itching for a fight, and maybe Zayn was the first person who walked by, and they decided to kick the shit out of him. He has no way of knowing, but what he does know is that it was a fluke. Something that no one could have predicted. Something that definitely will not happen ever again. So Louis can get off his fucking back.

"No, I agree," Niall chips in. "He can't keep going out on his own. Too many close calls, and Lou has a point. He needs tighter security."

"I love that everyone talks about me like I'm not even fucking here," Zayn grinds out. Normally, he loves having them all here (well, technically they're not all here, since Josh is visiting family for the next week and won't be back until then), would be a lot nicer and far more welcoming. He just doesn't have it in him. "And if you're all here to yell at me, you can go. Except Harry. He can stay."

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