Sound Of Madness(COMPLETE)

(NOW FINISHED) Siobhan Kline has just started junior year. She doesnt expect much from it, she doesnt think anything special will happen. Nothing special happens to her. She has two close friends, a 1976 mustang, her author mother Loretta and her pet hamster LuLu. This is her life. Until she is partnered with the new boy Zayn Malik. He just moved to town and all the girls seemed to take an interest in him.
All the boys want to be his friend.
But he couldnt care less

Zayn Malik fanfiction ----Not Famous

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21. Over Again

Zayn

 

I had gone my whole entire life wondering what life on the road would be like, what living on a tour bus would be like and most of all, what performing in front of a crowd night after night would be like. While on the show, my dream was so close, so very close, I could taste it. Now it is here, it has arrived and it has crashed into my life with no reservations. It made my life move in a fast forward motion, all the while the world around me was stuck in the same pattern. Getting on stage, hearing the uproar of the crowd, it was deafening but never has something so loud, felt so right.

As a group, our stage chemistry only grew to become perfected while on the road.

We were five teenage boys living on a bus together, if we weren’t bonding over video games, we were bonding over similar life experiences and our similar dreams. Its an amazing experience, I felt as if I had gotten the golden ticket to Wonka’s chocolate factory, only, I felt deserving of it. Two other boys in the group had girlfriends, Liam and Louis. Liam’s girl was Danielle Peazer, a dancer for the X Factor and Louis’ girl was her best friend Eleanor. The girls were nice, and they had such positive attitudes, something that was very eloquent and charming. I wondered how Siobhan would gel with them, Siobhan has a dry sense of humor, and she is complicated….but she’s gotten better since I first met her. Needless to say, when Siobhan and I first met, we were complete polar opposites.

Niall had exchanged numbers with Olive, but as time would have it, he grew less and less tolerable of her personality. She complained about everything, she asked a lot of questions, and she even made comments about Siobhan and I. Now, sure we didn’t tell her we were together in the most honest way, but our relationship status should not have been any of her concern. It wasn’t affecting her as far as we knew, but she just felt the need to vocalize her opinions, like when she told Siobhan that what her and I had was going to last only a few more weeks. When Siobhan questioned her about it, she simply said “Because Sisi, he is famous and he is in a boy band. I believe their called groupies”

I wanted to call Olive and tell her “I believe your full of shit”, but I didn’t. I let it pass, like I did with a lot of things she said. The last show of the tour was the most emotional one, it was a farewell to the people who had come out to support us and a door opening for the chance at new fans, more fans. Never in a million years did I imagine girls proposing to me, or crying when they see me…let alone girls wearing shirts with my face on it. Without humility, it would have been easy to get caught up in it all.

The time I had been promised off, had been taken away by our management.

The tour had been such a success that we were given a deadline for an album. And it was sooner than expected. I didn’t get time in new Jersey, but I was able to go to Los Angeles, and Hollywood. As a group, we traveled the world, and were granted opportunity after opportunity. I hated being so far away from my family and I hated being so far away from Siobhan. Part of me was even missing Miss Kline…the woman is a trip and a half. We spent two more months on tour with the American pop group Big Time Rush. So a tour, a cd, promotional stuff, and merchandising mania. It felt like as a person I had been sucked into a whirlwind, but as a group we made each other strong. It started to feel like more than a group, but a brotherhood.

In so many aspects, I had been successful, in the UK, we weren’t able to walk down the street without some sort of madness breaking out. In America, it would only be a matter of time before that happened, management was so confident in us, confident enough that we had dolls. Dolls!

**********************************

By the time I am free enough to go back to New Jersey, it is late July and it is the weekend of Siobhan’s eighteenth birthday. Both her mother and her father are throwing her a party, and she doesn’t know the boys and I are coming. Somehow we have convinced her that we’re stuck in LA doing promotional work. We arrive at Uncle Tom’s house the morning of her birthday, and it is bittersweet. Melissa, his girl, is expecting and she looks like she will burst at any given moment. It makes me realize how much I have missed. Damien stops by at noon, and he wears a fresh bruise on his left eye, and his lip is fat. I excuse myself from the group and talk to him in the backyard. “What happened?” I ask as we sit on lawn chairs. His face is bare of makeup and his eyes normal, his hair pulled back.

“You know, it ends sooner if I don’t fight back” he tells me and leans back into the chair. “If I fight back, Jenko just gets more aggressive”

“Can you even see out of that eye?” I ask him cursing Jenko silently. He shakes his head. “It’ll get better soon”

“You’re talking about this like it is nothing. Remember when I found you tied to the tree?” he doesn’t respond to me, he just nods. “Was that ok then, because you talk about this” I gesture to his face. “Like its nothing”

He leans forward and his jaw tenses. “Shit happens Zayn. He gets a few hits in, and he’s satisfied enough to leave me alone.”

“Its July”, I tell him leaning forward. “What happened that-” he cuts me off.
“I was at work, and he tried to shoplift a few records. I called security before he left the store. I have been on his shit list ever since. And then last night as I was walking home” he motioned to his face. “This happened”

I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it any longer, so I don’t push the subject. “Lets get ready for Siobhan’s party”

***************************************

Mr. Grey opens the door to us, and he is dressed in a plaid button up with dark jeans that are ripped at the knee. His hair is out and hangs near his shoulder, he smiles and welcomes us into the house. Miss Kline comes into view now, and her blonde hair is longer and her heels make her taller. She is wearing a Chanel suit and fine pearls. There are faces I remember from the last party, and even some faces from school. Like the boy who would sit with us at lunch, the one who never said a word and had a wheelchair. I see Paco Fuentes, he is with two boys who look just like him. Funny how some people don’t change one bit. He smiles and nods at me, this was his way of saying hello. Olive is helping Jasper in the kitchen, when she sees me, she doesn’t latch her arms around me, like usual, she just smirks. I automatically hear Miss Kline ask Damien question after question. That was to be expected though.

When I first see Siobhan, she is in the living room, her back to me, and she is talking to a boy with a buzzed head and a black wife beater tank top. Her long dark brown hair now has a tinge of auburn to it, and she wears a dress with quarter sleeves. It is silver and sequined. The boy says something to her that I don’t make out, and I am tempted to go into their conversation but I don’t, I cant.

Miss Kline comes up behind me and sighs. “That’s Giancarlo Santacruz” she tells me, and I don’t like the way Giancarlo looks at her, or how he smiles at her. “He was her partner for her final project in art”

“Oh” I nod some and look at Miss Kline. For a brief moment I wonder if they have been exchanging more than the art project.

Siobhan

Giancarlo Santacruz tells me about the mural he is doing for the Howell Boys and Girls club.

He is explaining the concept to me, and I am lost from the start. Giancarlo is one of those artists that creates pieces that you could stare at forever and what you see is different than what other people see. I am willing to admit that he is probably the reason we got an A on our art final. He basically took the lead, and I just followed orders. With his vision, our project came out better than anyone else’s. All the hours we put into it, seemed worthwhile, and working with him made me realize that if anyone deserved an art scholarship, it was him, not me. My parents could afford to send me to NYU, his parents could barely afford a roof over their heads.

We go from talking about the mural, to my birthday, and back to the mural. He asks if I would help him, so I agree. Part of me is honored, while the other part is intimidated. The DJ my parents hired starts a track that is so urban it has Paco written allover it. Paco comes up, and takes my hand, leaving Giancarlo to dance with another person. Slowly the floor starts to fill with people who dance with their souls and their hips. Paco had found his way into my circle of friends, and he did so with grace. He proved he could be trusting to me, nice to Olive and he stunned us all when he would defend Damien. Last night, Damien got beat up by Jenko, this morning Paco and Giancarlo gave Jenko a taste of his own medicine. I wonder if he is still tied to the tree….

“You look great…eighteen never looked so good” he is dancing against me, and I can sense him smiling. Paco is such a flirt, at times, too flirty for even his own good. The song ends and he spins me. “Happy birthday snow angel”, he kisses my cheek and walks off. I go to look for my mother, but a hand pulls me back, and when I turn, all the blood drains from my face, and my eyes widen.

It is Zayn….Zayn, oh my god. We stand there in silence for one second, his hand is still encased over my own. Everyone has moments that seem fit for movies, this was that kind of moment for me. He is actually here, tangible, and real. “Hey Siobhan” he finally says, and steps forth. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me oh god just kiss me! But he doesn’t…why doesn’t he?? I am a fish, without water.

“You look great, Happy Birthday”, and he steps forward and kisses me. It is quick and dry, when we part, my eyes are still closed. When I open my eyes, he is sipping from his cup. The kiss felt like a chore, a chore. After seven months away, it is a chore to him. Should it bother me the way it does? “Something wrong?” he asks. I furrow my brow and shake my head. More than likely, it wasn’t worth an argument. “You can tell me”, he puts his arm around my waist, bringing me closer. This feels forced, but I don’t want it to, I want him to want to hold me close, because he loves me not because he thinks he should. This feels different, and I put my hand on his chest and back away some. “Siobhan?”

“I…can we talk upstairs?” I am unafraid to tell him what is in my head now, and he follows me to my bedroom. “I cant believe you’re here” I smile closing the door behind us. “I missed you”

He smirks some, and it feels forced….again. I sigh and sit on the edge of my bed. Being away from him physically sucked, but we spoke most days, even skyped. Our conversations were basic, and nothing too deep. I wanted deep, I wanted it with him.

“you’re face…” he tells me. “I’m not making you happy am I”

“I never said that” I object with round eyes. “Not once”

“You’re face says it, and you don’t hide it too well…you don’t hide anything too well”, he sits beside me now and tilts his head some.

“I’m sorry” I apologize. Wait, did I do something wrong? “Zayn…”

“I hope in the future we have more time together, but my schedule is so busy…seven months is a long time and I feel guilty”

I shake my head, all I wanted to do was bring him upstairs and tell him how much I missed him, maybe do a little more kissing, but now he was….wait, what is he doing?

“Siobhan, I want us to be friends for now” I think I hear my heart sigh in discontent.

“So its over?” I can hear the defeat in my tone. “Just like that?”

Oh gosh…am I about to cry? No, I cant let myself cry….I quickly wipe the fallen tears. “Fine” I add. Zayn looks at me sadly, and I get mad. The last thing I need is his sympathy, so I stand quickly and open the door. He follows me out, but silently.

The last time we broke up, it didn’t hurt as bad as it did now. And I go downstairs and plaster on a smile for my friends and my parents.

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