Like I Love You: A Zayn Malik Romance

Trinity Ross has always been a fan of One Direction. Not a superfan, but a fan. And she gets the chance to meet them--on accident. Bumping into Zayn Malik on her journey to fame has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. But complications due to fame have risen. Will they stick it out? Or will everything come crumbling down?

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8. Concerts and Surprises

 

"Oh, my God!"

I stiffened, staring at Trinity with alarm, then we slowly turned to the source of the outburst. I saw who must have been her little sister staring at me with her jaw dropped.

Not another one, I complained internally.

I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. Then I waved at her. "Hey," I said, trying to be friendly. "I'm Zayn." Holding out my hand, I glanced at Trinity; her face was pained.

Instead of shaking my hand like a normal person, the girl ran towards me and hugged the crap out of me. It was so forceful I had to take a step back, but then I awkwardly patted her back.

I looked at Trinity again, and her face surprised me; instead of looking embarrassed or shocked, she looked . . . mad. She was shooting daggers at the poor girl, who didn't notice because she was too busy crying into my shirt. I sighed internally.

If looks could kill, this girl would have been to heaven and back at least ten times.

"Okay, that's enough," Trinity said--rather loudly--and stepped forward. She wrenched the girl off of me; I looked down at my shirt, trying to hide my gratefulness, but then frowned slightly when I saw that it was stained with tears.

I snapped out of my depression when Trinity grabbed my hand. "Let's go," she muttered, still pissed.

I smiled, then turned and smiled at the girl, who screamed, "I love you!" before Trinity shut--or slammed--the door, very forcefully.

I chuckled to myself. She was jealous.

We got in the limo, and the driver--I could never remember his name, which made me feel bad--started down the street.

"So," I said, trying to make conversation--we'd been in here for about two minutes and all she did was seethe. Plus, I admitted to myself, I wanted to hear her voice again.

She looked up at me, still in a bad mood. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring out the window.

"What?" she snapped.

I raised an eyebrow.

Trinity sighed, uncrossing her arms. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I guess I'm just stupid."

"Stupid?" I repeated, surprised. "Why are you stupid?"

"Because. I just am."

"Trinity," I begged.

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was trying to hide a smile. "Fine. I'm stupid because . . . because I got jealous."

"You got jealous?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I mean . . . I don't know, I guess I just . . . thought I had some sort of--claim, on you or something."

I smiled. "You want a claim on me?"

She shrugged. "That's what I thought I had. But now I know I don't, so it's okay, I guess." She turned away; I could hear the pain in her voice.

"Trinity?" I asked softly after a short pause.

"Yeah?" She didn't look at me.

"Who was that girl?"

Now she looks at me. "My little sister, Peyton. She's obsessed, she's such a flirt."

"Don't call a girl a flirt, when she's just being friendly," I told her. "And don't call a girl obsessed, when she's just in love."

Her eyes widened.

I stared at her, confused. Why is she looking at me like that?

"What?" I asked, frowning.

She bit her lip. "Nothing." Then she turned away again.

I thought over what I said. Then I cursed under my breath.

"Trinity, I didn't mean--"

"I know," she cut me off. She then looked up at me. "I think she really is in love with you, though."

My eyebrow raised. "Really."

She nodded as she said, "Mhm." Then she smiled. "But, you know, who wouldn't? You're all hot and stuff."

I laughed. "Oh, am I, now?"

"Oh, totally." She rolled her eyes playfully and smiled again. "Yeah, you have no idea how hard it is for me not to kiss you right now."

My laughter stopped, and she bit her lip . . . it made me hot under the collar.

"Don't do that," I said softly, touching my thumb to her bottom lip so she could stop.

"Do what?" She was confused.

"Bite your lip. Don't do it," I repeated.

"Why? I don't even realize I do it sometimes."

"Just . . . don't."

Her face grew somber; it was adorable. 

"Does it make me look weird?"

My eyes widened, and before I could contain it, I burst into laughter.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you laughing?" she pressed, frowning.

I couldn't answer, I was laughing so hard. When I finally stopped, her face grew expectant.

"I was laughing because you were being ridiculous," I explained.

"Ridiculous? About what?"

She asks a lot of questions, I thought.

Instead of answering properly, I leaned down so that our faces were just inches apart. I put my hands on her waist, which was slightly difficult because of the limo.

"You ask a lot of questions," I whispered.

Her eyes started blinking like crazy, and her breathing got heavy.

"We--well, you wouldn't tell me anyth--thing," she struggled to say.

I smiled slightly. "Do I make you nervous?" I breathed, leaning a bit closer.

"A--a little," she admitted, still stuttering.

"Hm," I chuckled. "You're cute when you're nervous."

She didn't answer.

"You're beautiful," I whispered before I put my lips to hers.

I would have continued, but she pulled away. I frowned, that stung.

But she just smirked. "Now, now, Zayn, the gentleman is supposed to kiss the lady after the date. Not before." She chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

Finally, we reached our destination--the stadium. I looked at Trinity, and she looked confused.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the building.

I rolled my eyes again. "Watching a football game," I said sarcastically. "Come on." I got out and held my hand out to her. She took it and I helped her out of the limo.

"Why are there so many people?" she asked incredulously as she took in all the screaming girls blocking the main entrance.

"Just come with me," I said as I dragged her to the side entrance. The guard let us in, and we walked through a few hallways before reaching our destination: backstage.

"Zayn!" the boys chorused as they ran to us.

"Hey," I laughed as they all tackled Trinity and me. 

"Where were you?" Niall asked, the first to pick himself up.

"I just went to get Trinity," I explained as he helped me up. The others soon followed suit.

"Get Trinity for what?" she asked, standing up and dusting herself off.

"Um, the concert?" Harry said, confused. He looked at me. "Zayn, didn't you tell her?"

I blushed. "No, I thought I would make it more of a surprise, actually."

"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait," Trinity interrupted. "Concert? Zayn, I thought you said you were free all week?"

I grinned. "Yes, I am. After this one little show."

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. "But . . . how am I going to--"

"Relax, everything's taken care of, you can either watch from backstage or from a front-row seat. Your choice."

She pressed her lips together as she exhaled through her nose. "Fine. I'll take the seat."

At least she accepted it, that was much easier than I thought it would be, I thought to myself.

"Okay, boys," a girl with blond hair and a clipboard said. "Time to get ready."

"Bye, Trinity!" we all yelled at her. Her face lit up.

"Bye, guys!" she yelled back. She was still grinning as we walked away.

 

 

 

 

I was escorted to my seat, which was, surprise, surprise, right in the middle of the front row. Right in front of the center of the stage. Right where I didn't want to be.

Zayn had apparently brought me to one of his concerts. I shook my head. Conceited loser.

The boys were due on stage in a minute and a half. Which meant I was left to deal with all the screaming girls watching the video playing on the gigantic screens. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to watch with them.

It wasn't very interesting--just the boys in some vehicle, smiling and laughing. You couldn't hear them, though--how could you, when thousands of people were screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs?

"Ladies and gentleman," a familiar voice carried out over all the other voices in the stadium, "please put your hands together. For. One Direction!"

The screaming impossibly got louder, and I covered my ears as five hyper teenagers ran onto the stage.

"Put your hands up!" Harry yelled into the microphone, then put his own hands up and began to clap to the rhythm of Na Na Na. I rolled my eyes; what a nice opening song.

"We've got a bit of love-hate. You take me to the edge, then you hit the brakes . . ."

I sang along, despite not being able to hear myself. They were amazing live, I noted.

After they sang Save You Tonight, Louis said, "Now, everybody listen up! We've got a special announcement to make. Zayn?"

He looked at Zayn, and Zayn thanked him and took over.

"Everyone," he said, still breathing slightly heavily, "there's someone special I want you to see. They're very talented, and they're not very well known."

I rolled my eyes, but sighed and crossed my arms. Whoever they were talking about was obviously good enough to interrupt Zayn's beautiful singing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for . . ."

I listened harder; the girls were getting louder.

"Trinity Ross!"

"WHAT?!" I screamed at him, dropping my arms in shock. My mouth hung open, but I closed it as he smiled reassuringly at me and a guard came up to me.

"This way, please," he said loudly so I could hear him. He led me to the stairs and onto the stage, where he released me. I looked back at him, panicking, then at Zayn, whose hand was outstretched towards me.

I walked over to him, scared to death--but also very confused. Taking his hand, I felt ten times better.

"Everyone," he said into the microphone, looking out over the audience, "this is Trinity and she's our feature girl. She's also going to get a very big surprise tonight."

Everybody in the audience screamed. For the first time, I looked at them--there was more than I thought. A lot more than I thought. My palms started to sweat.

Zayn squeezed my hand gently. A crew member walked out holding a stool and placed it behind me. Looking straight into Zayn's light brown eyes, I sat slowly. 

He released my hand. It dropped lifelessly into my lap with the other one.

"Let's go!" he shouted, and the cheers erupted again--not that they'd stopped in the first place. . . .

Their song What Makes You Beautiful started, and I rolled my eyes; so cheesy.

I watched them as they performed the first verse and the chorus. They seemed so happy to be singing, and they were really hyper. I smiled at myself.

And then Zayn's part came. He walked up to me and held my hand.

"So co-come on. You got it wrong. To prove I'm right, I'll put it in a so-o-ong. I don't know why you're being shy and turn away when I look into your e-e-eyes."

Ironically, he was looking me right in the eyes as he sang. Oh, the benefits of being the feature girl, I thought. I smiled again like a psycho.

When the song was over, I was given a hug by each of the boys--even though he smelled like sweat, Zayn smelled the best--and then escorted backstage.

I was confused. "Why didn't I just go back to my seat?" I asked the guard.

"Mr. Malik requested that you be taken back here. For after the show," he added with a smile.

"Oh." I frowned.

"You can still watch if you want. Just make sure the cameras or any fans don't see you."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I didn't make the rules, I just follow 'em."

I sighed. "Okay. Thanks."

"Yep." And with another kind smile for me, he left--probably to go keep the screaming fans behind the metal gates.

I watched them for a minute, fumbling with my VIP necklace, then suddenly remembered the tickets Kobe gave me. I still hadn't used them.

"Shit," I muttered, taking them out of my pocket and looking around.

Then I had an idea.

I walked down the halls and out the doors, only to be deafened by the hundreds of girls who still couldn't get in. I looked around, searching, then spotted a girl curled up in a ball, crying. I went over to her and crouched down.

"Here," I said, handing her the tickets.

She sniffled, and looked up at me. "What?" she asked, her voice heavy with sorrow.

"Take them. I don't need them."

She widened her eyes, then seemed to notice the tickets I was holding out to her. Then she looked back up at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "I'm already in," I said, holding up my necklace.

Suddenly, her arms were around me, crushing me in a huge hug. "Thank you," she kept crying into my shirt.

I laughed. "Okay, now, hurry up. It's almost interval."

She let go and sniffled one more time before taking the tickets and standing up. I stood with her.

"Tiffany," she said, holding out her arms for another hug--this one gentle.

"Trinity," I replied as I hugged her back.

We both let go, and she wiped away a few last tears. "Thanks again," she said.

I smiled. "No prob. Wanna go in with me?"

"Sure. But what am I going to do with the other two?"

I shrugged. "Give them to random crying people. That's what I did." I grinned at her.

Her eyes lit up, and we hunted down two more people. When we gave them the tickets, though, they snatched them up and ran off to the entrance. I rolled my eyes. Ungrateful teenagers.

Tiffany and I walked together to the door.

"Ticket?" the guard asked. Tiffany held up hers and I showed him my necklace. He let us in.

"Where are my seats?" she asked me loudly so I could hear.

"Front row, just look for the empty ones and pick one. It doesn't really matter.""Okay. Thanks again. Hey," she said quickly, stopping me from turning around. "Give me your phone, I'm gonna put my number in."

"Okay." I took out my Galaxy and handed it to her as she pulled out a similar one.

She smirked. "S three?" she asked.

I smirked back. "You know it."

After we exchanged contacts, we gave each other's phone back and hugged once more before heading off in different directions.

Ironic, I thought. Going two directions at a One Direction concert. I smiled.

I walked back to my previous spot. It was almost interval.

Five minutes later, five sweaty boys came running off the stage towards where they saw me standing. I braced myself for the impact.

"Trinity, darling!" Louis shouted as he flung himself at me. We crashed to the floor in one big heap. "How long has it been?"

I laughed, which came out kind of strained because I couldn't breathe. "Like two hours."

"Oh, come on, we don't have that many songs," Liam said.

"Uh, guys? Could you get off now?"

"Oh," they all said. "Sorry." 

I stood up and brushed myself off. Then I was serious.

"What the hell was that for?!" I shouted at all of them.

"What?" Zayn asked, confused like the rest of them.

"Why didn't you tell me I was going to be your feature girl?"

"Because you would have said no and we didn't want anybody else to do it," Harry replied in a cool tone.

I looked at him, then took a deep breath. "Fine," I said, exhaling. "Whatever, it's okay. Just, next time, tell me, alright? I probably looked scared as hell."

"Don't swear," Harry warned.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"And don't worry," he continued. "You looked fine."

Rolling my eyes, I uncrosssed my arms. Huh. I didn't even notice they were crossed.

"It was just for the one show, right?" I asked.

They all looked at each other, then around the room awkwardly.

"Right?" I repeated with more emphasis, raising my eyebrows.

"Um . . ." Niall said, looking down.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"Well . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We kinda thought that it would be best if you were the feature girl for every show this tour."

"So I'm touring with you guys?" I asked after a minute of shocked silence.

"If you want," Zayn stepped in. I looked at him. "I mean, it'd just be easier. If you don't want to, we could find somebody else," he added quickly.

I pondered over it. Right now, any girl would kill to be in my position. I was pretty sure my parents wouldn't mind--although it would bother me to see Peyton get the satisfaction she wanted. I sighed.

"Fine. But--"

"YAY!" they all shouted, tackling me in another bone-crushing hug.

"Can't--breathe!" I gasped, my eyes wide.

They laughed and let go. I sighed, but it hurt a little.

"But," I continued. "I'm not singing for you. As an opening act or anything. Just because I sing doesn't mean you can take advantage of it."

They looked at me with dangerous glints in their devious eyes.

"Oh, no," I said with an "Oh, come on" expression. "You didn't."

"Yep," Zayn sang happily. "You're our closing act. You live a quintuple life."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that even a word?"

He shrugged.

"But what do you mean, quintuple? I thought the term was 'double.'"

"Well, yeah, but you have five lives. Normal Trinity, Singer Trinity, Closing-Act Trinity, Feature Trinity, and um . . . uh . . . crap, I forgot."

I laughed. "Nice."

"Oh, yeah. One-Direction's-Tour-Buddy Trinity."

I looked at all of them. "You guys didn't have to do this."

"Yes, we did," Liam cut in. "Zayn wouldn't let us sleep last night. This all was done overnight, you know," he added.

My eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You were all he could talk about. I don't see how," he continued. "I mean, he's only known you for, like a day. You two go fast." He winked, then took out his phone and walked off.

I stared after him, my mouth wide open.

Someone coughed. I looked back at the rest.

"So, uh," Zayn said awkwardly. I raised an eyebrow. "We have to get going," he continued. "There's like, three minutes left and we all have to get changed and stuff and you have to get ready for closing and--"

"Okay," I laughed. "Go."

They all started walking off. I grabbed Zayn's arm--which was surprisingly hard. Damn, this boy works out.

"Zayn?" I said.

He stopped to turn halfway and look at me. "Yeah?"

I let go of his arm, looking down. I looked back up at him as I said, "Thanks."

He smiled. "No prob."

As he walked off, I couldn't help but smile to myself. 

My temporary good mood was soon interrupted by a female crew member coming up and shoving me down a hall.

"Hey!" I protested.

"No time to talk, we've got to get you ready."

"Alright, but do you need to be so harsh?"

"Do you need to be so difficult?" she snapped.

I frowned. "Sorry, I was just saying."

The girl sighed. "Sorry," she said, releasing me. "I'm not having the greatest day."

"Tell me about it," I muttered. She smiled apologetically, and I smiled back, checking her name on the clipboard. Ashley.

Ashley walked ahead of me and opened a door, smiling kindly. I returned it and walked in.

"There you are!" said a girl who looked a little bit older than me. Her blonde hair was wavy and cascaded down her back gently. She had on a platinum halter dress that came to her knees, and her silver heels matched. She was very pretty--I guessed her as the stylist.

"I'm Ana, your stylist. I'll be doing your makeup and this is Amanda, she'll be doing your hair. To make things faster, it'll be done simultaneously because these things take forever, so just sit down and relax."

All this was said as she ushered me to the chair in front of the huge mirror that was connected to a beautiful desk. Amanda waved when she was introduced.

Amanda was also pretty. She had brown hair tied up in a bun, and she was wearing just a plain white cardigan over a white fitted V-neck, grey skinny jeans, and flat ankle boots. She went to my hair right away as Ana bent forward to face me, makeup brush in one hand, foundation in the other.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "You're already wearing . . . wow. I didn't notice, how silly of me. You look fabulous, hun, just a few touch-ups and we'll be all set."

As she said this, she put down the brush and foundation and rummaged around on the desk until she found some liquid eyeliner and a black tube.

"I'm just going to put on some liquid liner, yours is kinda gone . . ." She finished and put the cap back on. Then she held up the black tube. "This is volumizing mascara, it'll look great on you."

While Ana volumized my lashes, Amanda ran a brush through my hair, getting out any possible tangles. After she did that, she fiddled with the locks, probably pinning them up. I didn't really know; all I knew was it felt nice. I soon fell asleep.

When I was finally woken up and allowed to look in the mirror, I gasped; although Ana only put eyeliner and mascara on with a touch of lip gloss, I was actually pretty. I made a mental note to buy liquid eyeliner. I had volumizing mascara; I just never used it.

And Amanda . . . she did a perfect job. She must have decided to keep my hair down, because it was straight and hung below my waist in layers. I ran a hand through it several times, revelling in its softness.

Amanda chuckled; this was the first sound I'd heard from her. "What do you think?" she asked. Ana stood beside her, her hands held up together.

"I love it," I said, shaking my head. I'd never straightened my hair before; it looked great.

"Good," Ana said, pulling her hands apart. "Now, come on, we have to get going, it's almost closing."

I got up and walked to the door, where Ashley was waiting patiently. Funny thing was, I wasn't even nervous.

We walked together in silence, not speaking even when she turned and left. I wondered if she was still in a bad mood.

Going back to my spot, I watched the boys perform their second to last song. When it was over, they addressed the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Zayn started; the cheers erupted loudly. "We have a special guest tonight. You remember our feature girl?" He pointed to the screen, where it showed them singing to me. He turned to face the crowd again. "Trinity is going to sing our last song with us, so give her a nice warming welcome!" Then he turned to me and held out his hand, just like he did earlier.

I took note of their change of clothes as I was handed a microphone and walked out on stage. There were a few boo's, but I ignored them. They all judge before they know, I told myself.

Taking Zayn's hand, we turned to the audience. 

"Hey, guys," I said into the microphone. I laughed to myself when a few people said it back in the front row. "So, I didn't know I was going to be singing tonight, so, Zayn," I said, looking at him, "wanna tell me what we're singing?"

He chuckled. "Were you not paying attention? The only song left is I Want."

"Come now, Trinity, don't be a party pooper," Louis said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes and smiled back. "Okay," I said. "So we gonna sing or what? Let's do this."

Zayn raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Ooh, eager now, are we? Alright, guys, let's go!"

The piano started, and Liam began to sing.

"Give you this, give you that. Blow a kiss, take it back . . ."

I didn't sing till the second chorus, but when I did, the audience responded with ear-splitting screams.

"Be loved by you. I wanna. I'll stay true," I sang. Zayn sang the rest, then we both sang, "You want, you want, you want me to love you, too."

I've always liked the guitar part, I thought to myself.

Normally, Zayn sang the part of the last chorus that carried on above the rest, but he let me sing that as they came together and stood in a line, with me in the middle, arms around each other's shoulders. Of course, I was between Harry and Zayn.

I sang the last part with all my heart, leaning forward, left arm around Harry's shoulders, one knee bending slightly as the other rose. When I finished, I put my foot back down and held up my other arm like the boys.. The audience roared. I beamed, then took a bow with the guys and walked off as they thanked the crowd.

"Trinity, that was amazing," Liam said.

I smiled. "Thanks. It's funny, I wasn't nervous."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Most people are."

"Maybe because she's not a person, she's an alien," Louis teased.

I raised my eyebrows. "Coming from the boy who wants to be a zebra."

"Hey," he said defensively. "Zebras are wonderful creatures."

"I like giraffes better," Niall said.

"Cause you're weird."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am--"

"Hey, guys, we know you like animals, but this is getting annoying," Liam said with a chuckle.

Niall pouted; it was adorable.

"I LOVE YOU, LIAM!" Louis shouted as he crushed him in a hug.

"Love you, too, Louis, now get off of me."

Louis complied; I chuckled. He was a four-year-old in a twenty-year-old's body.

"I'm starving," I announced, turning on my heel and walking towards the exit.

They all laughed and followed me out into the cool night air.

We ended up walking to Wendy's. The whole walk there, Zayn kept bothering me--he wouldn't stop making me shiver. All he did was whisper songs in my ear. Probably trying to get a message across. 

I couldn't help but laugh when he tried to sing Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift. It just didn't seem like him.

"What?" he asked as we walked in. "You don't like my singing?"

Smirking, I replied. "Nope. You're a horrible singer."

He gasped and let go of me, feigning a hurt expression. "That hurt!" he said dramatically. "I happen to be a very good singer."

I was about to reply sarcastically when something popped into my mind.

"So is this our date?" I asked him while the others walked up to the counter.

He smiled. "Well, the date itself was supposed to be just the concert, but I'll count this as part of it, too."

I smiled back, and he intertwined our hands from behind me.

"Now will you be my girlfriend?" he breathed in my ear; it made my spine tingle.

"Depends," I whispered back, turning my head to the side, only to meet his lips with mine, totally by accident. I hadn't known his mouth was so close to mine till he smashed it to mine, however gently. Surprised, my mouth automatically moved with his before I processed what we were doing.

I was kissing Zayn Malik.

 

 

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hey hey hey(:

sometimes i wonder if my computer is lying to me, or if you guys even like it, because nobody comments and it makes me sad. i'll dedicate a chapter to whoever comments...

what the hell is "p element"? lol i just now saw it, so...

Harry is beautiful. 

tell your friends about this story, idc, just help me get more readers :D

Love you, stay sexy, and watch Jillian Jensen on youtube, her audition for The X-Factor. Shit made me cry, she's so amazing <3 xx

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