You Saved Me ( Zayn Malik )

Chapter 25.

----- 3 Months Later ----

*Zayn's POV*

  Sweat was rapidly falling from my forehead as I ran off of the stage. The last drop of water vanished as I greedily drained the bottle.. "What are you doing mate?" Liam asked, as if I was doing something wrong. "Uh, calling my girlfriend. What the hell does it look like?" I replied, pulling the phone from my head. "No, we need to go. The other lads have left, and we need to get ready for the interview." he said, tugging on my arm. "But... can't I have two minutes to call Skylar?" I whined, shoving the phone back into my pocket. 

"Look, I know you haven't talked to her in like, a day, but-"  

"No. It's been weeks since I talked to her." My eyes stared into him like daggers, showing my growing anger and frustration.

"Okay, it's been weeks. But we both know she'll understand. She's not clingy or anything. After the interview I'll make sure you'll have AT LEAST an hour to talk to her, alright?"

"Fine. Whatever." 

~~~

*Skylar's POV*

  "NOBODY'S PERFECT! I GOTTA WORK IT! AGAIN AND AGAIN TILL I GET IT RIGHT!" I belted out, dancing around Zayn's flat. There was a distant ringing, my phone screaming at me, saying that someone better do something, and fast too. My feet moved at the fastest rate possible, carrying me quickly closer and closer to the incessant ringing. I secretly hoped it'd be Zayn, since I hadn't heard from him in weeks, and it was making me quite sad. I knew he was busy, and that he would never ignore me, and that he was probably trying to get in touch with me, but that didn't change the fact that I missed him. 

  My face fell as I saw Lavonne's contact appear. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Should I be?"

"Have you seen the news lately?"

"No. I'll go look now, what channel?" I asked, sprinting back to the family room.

"Channel 9."

"Okay.."

  Suddenly the whole room was spinning and my legs could no longer hold the weight of the rest of my body. I hit the wood floor with a thud, but felt nothing. My mind was far, far away, across the world. To the place my boyfriend and his four best friends were most likely being rushed to a hospital for an emergency surgery. A surgery to remove the broken pieces from some random, once innocent, street light. 

  There, the doctor was probably shouting things that made no sense to anyone who didn't have medical training, trying to revive one of the boys. Trying to make one of the boys breathe again. One of the boys. Zayn. 

  The mobile device that was once cradled in my hand, now lay on the floor, Lavonne shouting things into her end that I couldn't understand. My heart was racing, and my breathing was heavy. No matter how much force I put in, my body was uncooperative. It wouldn't listen to any commands coming from my brain. 

  My arm finally managed to reach out, gripping the phone and pressing it against my ear before swiping tears from my face. 

  "Skylar? Skylar?" Her worried tone only freaked me out more. But I had to be there for her. For, it was not only Zayn that was hurt. All of the boys were. Broken skulls, collarbones, elbows, wrists, legs, ankles, toes, ribs, jaws and many others. Zayn, however, had a list of broken bones, but one in particular stood out. It wasn't a broken bone. It was a broken pole, stuck in his right thigh.