Wild (sequel to Deep) - Zarry AU

Reach

They hadn't believed me at first.

I had insisted on a meeting at their offices; I didn't want to give any details over the phone in case someone was listening in. Val, with his PR experience, had taught me that one.

It was quite glamorous - glossy even - the building. I had always thought of tabloid journalists as something old-fashioned... and only a few steps on the evolutionary ladder above sewer rats. In my imagination they inhabited dimly-lit and crowded basement sweatshops where they would hunch over ancient PCs bashing out lies. Instead the people in this office had the best smartphones and suits and expensive shoes and some of them were even women.

I sat in a room which was seemed to be entirely constructed from glass. Very good for laughter to bounce off, I would soon discover.

"Alright love. You're telling us – what??? You have proof of a relationship between Harry and – and – Zayn???"

The man questioning me looked too old to be wearing a full hipster beard. He was losing his hair and it didn't really work. I could see from the way he was contorting his face that he was trying not to giggle.

Beside him a younger woman perched on a desk in an outfit that seemed to be referencing the eighties. Perhaps ironically. She was chewing gum.

When I met them they had shaken my hand and called me by my name lots of times which I guess was supposed to make me feel important.

"Yes," I swallowed. Was it too late, I wondered, to back out of this? I was a traitor to my cause, after all - there was no getting round it.

Eighties-woman smiled at me. "Are you sure it isn't Harry and Louis?" she said, looking at her gel nails. They were dark like old blood.

I nodded. Swallowed again. "Positive," I said.

"And just how did you come to acquire this...umm.... evidence?" She was still smiling.

"Can't say," I muttered.

"Well," she looked at Beard Man and then back at me. "I think we should see it. I don't know about you, Nathan, but I'm wetting myself with anticipation." She smirked.

Nathan raised one eyebrow. He held out an upturned hand. I passed over the memory stick.

"It's only a short excerpt of what we have, of course," I said, just about controlling the trembling in my voice.

They both looked at me. Eighties-woman nodded. I could tell she didn't believe a word.

Nathan was sat opposite me, with his laptop open on his lap so that I couldn't see the screen. I heard a slight whirr as the device kicked in. Eighties-woman frowned; her eyes narrowed. I knew she wouldn't be able to identify Zayn from the first few moments of the footage; however I had edited into the beginning of the footage the last few seconds when the boys passed close to the camera as they left the room and their faces were caught, clear and unmistakable. During the clip her mouth dropped open but at the point when she saw their faces in close-up she clamped her hand over it.

"Photoshop?" she said, as if I couldn't hear her.

"Nah," Nathan breathed. "I would know."

Their eyes flicked from left to right to centre.

"Oh my God," Nathan whispered, the cool hipster façade suddenly gone. Smiles climbed both their faces, swelling and flushing their London-pallid cheeks. I have to admit it was a rush, seeing the effect it had on someone else. Thus far, the only other person I had seen react to the tape was Val.

I looked out of the window over the Thames, trying to suppress a grin. I knew from their continued silence what their faces would look like. I could remember every move, every sigh: I knew what they were seeing although I couldn't see the screen.

The clip finished. They both looked at me, eyes rounder and cheeks pinker.

"Woah" Eighties said, shaking her head. "If this is real.... And Nathan says it is... well. This is sensational, Larissa".

Nathan turned to look at her, then shivered slightly and shook his head. "Who would have guessed it?" he breathed. "And the two hottest members of One D as well. I've come over all unnecessary looking at that!"

Eighties stood up and hugged me. I almost fell over with surprise. "You are one very lucky – and now very wealthy – girl! And we are going to so enjoy blackmailing the hell out of Simon Cowell!!"

Just at that moment the door opened and a young woman came in carrying a tray. A magnum of champagne and several glasses. It was going to be a long night.