Fall Into the Stars

Zayn loved Emma. Emma loved Zayn. Their relationship wasn't perfect. They weren't like average couples, since they were always away from each other. Emma didn't like her life, herself, all she cared about was Zayn. Zayn wasn't exactly up for that, with him being away on tour all the time. He didn't think 'long distance', so say, would work out for them. When he leaves, she's driven to complete extremes.


5. Unfair

Emma and Zayn walked hand and hand down the sidewalk, making their way to the street fair a couple blocks away. The streets were crowded, people walking each and every direction. The smell of different foods wafted into their noses and their mouths watered. Emma loved sitting in the bustling area of London, different people wearing different clothing interested her. Zayn on the other hand, had to constantly be on alert for crazed fans or people that could mob him. Sometimes he hated being famous, with the constant attention; it just bothered him so much. 

As the couple got closer to the fair, a group of girls started screaming and hurried over to get pictures or autographs from Zayn. He groaned in anger, his eyes squinting shut and mouth in a frown. Emma smiled, she loved the crowd because it was just so..different to her. She never had people look at her, or had a lot of attention, until she met Zayn of course. 

The girls were at least 17, all a bit taller than Emma and prettier than her. Their hair fell to their middle back, in shades of auburn, brown, and blonde. Their eyes were a spectrum of colors, blueish-gray to greenish-orange. They were beautiful to watch, just how they moved and talked. Emma felt a bit of jealousy boil in the pit of her stomach, but quickly pushed the feeling away. Zayn of course didn't think anything of them, only that they were annoying. 

"Can we please get a picture with you!" The auburn-haired girl spoke. This usually happened, Zayn getting pictures with the fans but Emma didn't expect the fans to want pictures with her. Emma was watching a nearby citizen walk past her with her tiny pooch struggling to keep up. She smiled but was shaken out of her thoughts. "Emma? Can we have a picture with you?"Her blue eyes opened wider and she nodded slowly, a smile creeping onto her face?

"Of course!" The girls all gathered close to Emma, shoving themselves past Zayn. He walked infront of them holding the camera, ready to take the picture. They grasped onto her gently, but the blonde haired girl spoke quietly in her ear. 

"Listen to me, bitch. Zayn doesn't like you. He pitys you, that's the only reason he's going out with you. You take him for granted. We don't like you, and no other fans do either. Break up with him, today. If you don't, you won't be happy." Right as Zayn took the picture, Emma looked at the blonde in horror while she smiled widely to the camera. Emma couldn't believe that a fan had just threatened her. She heard about if from Eleanor, but she didn't expect it to be so harsh! She nearly burst into tears. Zayn handed the camera back to the dark haired girl, who smiled and kissed his cheek. Zayn rolled his eyes, and took Emma's hand. 

"Z-zayn." Emma gasped, chocking for air while her heart beat faster. Her blue eyes dilated, and her body grew nimb and weak. Her hands grew clammy, and her grasp on Zayn became loose. She almost fainted right there.

"Emma! What's happening!" He held onto her, pulling her away from the chaotic sidewalks and into a tiny bookstore that nobody seemed to be in. Zayn moved her thin blonde hair out of her face, pulling it back into a quick ponytail that rested on her neck. Emma couldn't stand to look at Zayn, if she did she knew she would cry. "Emma? Are you okay, love?" His voice was so concerned, it made her want to cry even more. She couldn't even pull the words out to tell him, let alone wrap her mind around what had just happened to her.

"Zayn, they want me to break up with you."

"What? Who are you talking about?" His eyes squinted in anger, and his voice raised slightly. 

"The fans. They want me and you to be over, done with. They said if I didn't break up with you by today they would do something to me. I'm sorry.." A tear fell from her eye. She didn't want to break up with him. She wanted to stay with him forever, like they had talked about. They were never to leave each other, they both knew it. It couldn't happen over a stupid fan!

"Emma, no. This is unfair to you. The so called fans that want us to break up, they aren't fans at all. I don't want you hurt. Yet they keep abusing you, and I can do nothing about it! No matter how many times I tell them to stop and fuck off, they just keep doing it. Emma, Emma I'm so sorry. Please. Forgive me for this, but-" Emma stopped him, a sob escaping her devastated and depressed body. 

"Za-zayn! You can-can't leave m-m-me. No, I can't l-let yo-" She collapsed to her knees, the sobs racking her body over and over until she had trouble breathing. Zayn let a tear fall from his eye.

"Do you see what I do to you Emma! Look at yourself! You're crying on the floor of a bookstore because of ME! I'm so sorry, I can't keep hurting you. It's best if I left. I love you, Emma." He knelt down, warm tears falling onto her hair. Zayn kissed her forehead gently, pulling her to a standing position. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed her lips gently and walked out, the bell that hung from the door signaling his exit.


-6 months later-

Ever since Emma and Zayn broke up, she's been writing letters. Each letter she carefully wrote, each word evenly spaced, each 'I' dotted correctly. Each day there would be a new topic, and on every piece of paper there were three drops of blood. As gruesome as it sounds, she thought it would help the memories drain from her body. Each drop of blood was one letter, or word. The three drops of blood together stood for the words that he pulled out of her body. 'I love you'. She now had 181 letters, each with a memory of her and Zayn. She spent all of her time on these pieces of work, her 15,638,400 seconds, 260,640 minutes, and her 4344 hours. Except for when she would eat, which was rarely ever; maybe once or twice a month. She was as thin as a stick, ribs jutting out of her pale skin. She was disgusted with herself, but she couldn't help it. 

Zayn was a mess, putting on a smile for the fans and the boys. He never meant anything he said, his eyes lost all sparkle, and his face began to droop. Purple bags took place under his eyes, except for when he was on stage. The makeup was enough to cover them. He knew he had to eventually get over Emma, but it wasn't worth trying. Some days the band would cancel their shows because Zayn would lie in bed, afraid to get up because he couldn't bear to hurt Emma in any way. Liam and Niall tried to reassure him into a better state, but it never worked. Harry and Louis tried to force him, but he would just resist. They eventually all gave up, and went back to their work. Some days he would be able to forget what happened, but others it was just sickening to watch. 

The boys were in London, visiting home before they left for tour again. They decided to go out for a little, to a club and relax for a bit. Everyone was pumped except Zayn. He didn't move, didn't speak, just nodded his head. Liam had to pick him up and carry him to the van. When they got to the club, Zayn sat at the bar, a cigarette sitting between his two fingers. The boys had gone off and danced, giving up on the toffee colored boy after an hour. Zayn sipped the glass of vodka a bartender had set infront of him. The burn of the liquid ran down his throat, sending chills down his spine. It was 1:00am, and it seemed as if half of London were in the club. The boys had gone home, Zayn staying behind to sulk.

After two glasses of vodka, he decided it was enough and walked outside into the cool brisk air. The breeze hit him all at once and he pulled his jacket over his body. He walked past an old bookstore, looking in the window. There were about two people in there, dim lights illuminating their frames barely. Each had a book in hand, and then Zayn realized where he was. The same bookstore where he had last seen Emma. He pushed open the door, the smell of coffee overcoming his senses. The people in the store looked alarmed obviously not expecting anyone in the wee hours of night. He walked over to the coffee machine, and poured himself a cup of the brisk dark drink.

"What brings you here, in these hours?" An old older man with a gruff beard asked him, walking cautiously over to Zayn holding a book in hand.

"Oh, nothing. I just needed to take a walk." He sipped the coffee, warmth of the drink seeping into his body soothing the oncoming headache. 

"It doesn't seem like nothing. Boy, you sure seem troubled. Something bothering you?" The man became more comfortable, sinking into a plush striped couch that leaned against the wall. Zayn looked at him, dark brown eyes burning into the door. 

"Memories," Zayn whispered but the man seemed to hear it. 

"You were the one that came here, six months ago?" His statement surprised Zayn. How did he remember? Zayn didn't remember seeing anyone in the store when they had come. 

"Yes," he breathed out, exasperated. Zayn racked his brain, every week, every day, every second with Emma coming back to him.

"The blonde. Heard from her recently?" Zayn nodded his head. If he had, he wouldn't be in this state. He would be better, the bags gone, his eyes sparkling again. Zayn sipped his coffee. "She lives not too far from here. Moved in about two months ago. Quite nice, she's in here a lot." He froze. She lived here? He spit his coffee out, spraying the wall and a bit of the moulding that framed the floor. 

"Where. Where does she live." The man looked at Zayn, and scratched his head. He got up and walked to the register, pulling something out of a drawer. 

"Uh, about five minutes from here. Just up the street, at Hurlington Avenue? Third apartment on the left." Zayn smiled at him, the joy and happiness coming back into his life. The sparkle returned to his eye, the bags faded a bit under his eyes. 

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Zayn got up in a hurry, running out the door. 

"Son." Zayn turned around and faced the old man, looking at him in bewilderment.

"Yes, sir?" The man wobbled unsteadily to Zayn, holding a chain in his hand. Zayn didn't know what it was, nothing occurred to him what it would be.

"She told me. She told me, 'If that boy with the toffee skin and dark hazel eyes walks into this store again, give him this. Tell him I don't want it.' Take this." He held out his hand, and in it was a gold chain with an elephant on the end. Zayn had given her the necklace, it had been his best friend's. His friend died, and he had always worn it around his neck. Zayn gave it to Emma so he could always remember his friend. Emma had loved it and thought it was really special. Zayn smiled at the man, and ran out the bell signaling his exit.



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