Hey Bad Boy, You're A Tad Overrated

Violet Bronze, Vod, is One Direction’s new stylist and she hates how full of himself Zayn Malik is. Yes, he has smoldering good looks and a moody, mysterious attitude, but Vod is not so easily impressed. Or so she thought. When Zayn begins to send her mixed signals, one minute he acts as if he wants her, the next he ignores her, she doesn’t know what to think or what to do. But there’s one thing she’s dying to tell him, ‘Hey bad boy, you’re a tad overrated!’

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32. 32. Round and Around and Around We Go

I was dressing the boys for an awards show they had to go to. Zayn was last. The last two days, Zayn hadn’t texted me, hadn’t called me, and at work, he had only talked to me about the clothes that I had chosen for him. Yes, I had asked him to leave me alone for a while, but he made me regret every minute of it. What bugged me the most though was that Zayn acted as if he wasn’t bothered, at all. How did he do it? How could he go all alpha male on me the one minute, saying he wanted to lock me in his bedroom, but act as if he didn’t care anymore the next? I had missed him. I had missed his kisses, his touch and his voice.

So, tonight, I fixed his black skinny tie, avoiding meeting his eyes, because, if I did lift my head up to him, I would fall right into his arms right at that second. But I was stubborn, just like he was, so, I stayed strong. Zayn had his hands deep into his trousers’ pockets, looking at my face. He was quiet, I was quiet and all the other boys were quiet, too. They all knew what was going on between Zayn and me, but they thought best to stay out of it.

‘There. All done,’ I said. I smiled at him, unconsciously placing my hands palms down on his chest, but Zayn stepped away from my touch, unaffected. During the last two days, not only he didn’t talk to me, but he didn’t let me talk to him, or, touch him. He was punishing me for asking him to leave me alone by showing me what I was missing.

Zayn stood in front of the mirror, checked himself out and said, looking at me with dull eyes, ‘It’s not great, but it’ll do.’ Brilliant. He doubted my talent now, too. Zayn went on, ‘Aw, was that a little bit harsh for you, babe?’

Harry shook his head from the sofa before he got up and left the dressing rooms. He didn’t like the way Zayn was treating me these last few days, but he wouldn’t interfere. Harry hadn’t talked to me much since that night at the pub, but I couldn’t really think about that right now.

‘My outfit’s great, Vod,’ Niall told me, giving me a hug.

‘Thanks, Irish boy,’ I told him, burying my face into his chest.

‘You’re doing a fantastic job, babe,’ Liam assured me with a wink and a comforting smile.

By the time I pulled away from Niall, Zayn was gone. He had left without even saying goodbye tonight. ‘God, he’s such a jerk sometimes,’ I said under my breath, shaking my head.

‘He’s my bro, but sometimes, he kind of is,’ Liam agreed, lightly rubbing my back. After the three boys changed and left, I tidied up, putting away some clothes and shoes, and when I was done, I grabbed my things and left, too.

I was surprised when I found Zayn outside the building. He was talking on his phone, but I walked past him, heading to my car. There was nobody else around. Only he and I.

‘Yeah, babe, I missed you, too, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?’ Zayn said to the person on the other end of the line and I walked faster, blocking out thoughts of who he might be talking to. It was probably another one of his hookups. ‘VOD,’ Zayn called angrily and I looked over my shoulder. He had hung up and was walking fast towards me. And then, I don’t know why, but I ran. In no time at all, Zayn grabbed my arm, twirling me around. ‘Did you really just run away from me?’ he asked in my face, growling. He was mad, but he was hurt more. I tried to wrench my arm from his grip, but his fingers tightened, digging into my skin. I winced and Zayn let go. ‘I can’t believe you ran away from me,’ he said, shaking his head, running his hands through his hair.

‘Who were you talking to on the phone?’ I asked, looking at him from under my eyebrows, rubbing my arm.

‘My sister,’ Zayn almost shouted. He was irritated that I had thought that he was talking with another girl.

Oh, okay, but how was I supposed to know that? I thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I dared him more. ‘You’re turning into Hunter,’ I told him. ‘You keep hurting me.’

Zayn was taken aback, but only for a brief second. Then, he told me, gnashing his teeth, ‘If you drove him half as insane as you’re driving me, then, I don’t blame him for hitting you.’ My breathing hitched, my eyes filling with tears in seconds. Zayn realized he had made a mistake saying that almost immediately. ‘Doll, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it,’ he said with a pained look on his face, but it was too late. Then, in a desperate attempt to make things better, he grabbed my face, slamming his lips into mine, but I pressed my lips tightly together, refusing to kiss him back. Zayn pulled back, sighing. Still holding my face, he pressed his forehead against mine and with his eyes squeezed shut, he said, ‘I’m sorry, doll, forgive me, please.’

But I didn’t. Instead, I pushed him away. ‘I think we need to take a break,’ I told him.

Zayn glared, clenching his jaw. He looked angry, but he was quiet for a moment. ‘Fine,’ he finally said curtly, tiredly. ‘I’m done trying to get you, Vod.’ He turned his back to me, but said over his shoulder, ‘Keep the dress. Don’t return it. Please.’ Zayn walked away before I could ask him what he was talking about.

When I got to my flat, I found a large white gift box with a red ribbon bow outside my door. I went on my knees and opened it. Inside, there was a beautiful silver white dress and a beautiful silver white half mask. The boys had to attend a masquerade ball in a few days and Zayn was probably planning on asking me to go with him. That was why he was waiting for me outside the building tonight. He must have sent the gift box earlier today. I hid my face with my hands and sobbed my heart out. I had ruined everything.

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