World So Cold

Love is never simple. Love is never easy. There is more grey than there is black and white. Zayn Malik Fan Fiction


2. The big picture


And then Damien dies, when the clock hits ten thirty two a.m. His heart just stops, and I refuse to believe it. Maybe he had just been so deep in sleep that the monitors misread his pulse, or maybe he had fallen somewhere in between life and death. Pronouncing him dead seemed too official, too depressing.

I watched as Olive and Siobhan fell apart, when given the news they cried, holding each other tight because now who did they have but each other. And I watched their parents try to console them. Damien’s mother and father didn’t cry right away, I think they had expected the worst from the get go. Then there is me, I am too surprised to cry, too surprised to speak out. And too ashamed because sitting beside me is Brooke Taylor.

“I only called you because I knew it’d be important to Damien” Olive tells me that night as she drives me to Uncle Tom’s house. It’s probably best you don’t take the hussy to the funeral”

Damien Sewell is gone, and no matter what is said, there is no time reversal. But she wants to talk about Brooke, now of all times. The first day I arrived at the hospital, Olive slapped me in the face the minute we were alone. And that was because Brooke had come along. I didn’t invite Brooke, but Brooke insisted she come for moral support. “Zayn, imagine how Siobhan felt seeing you show up, now add Brooke Taylor into the mix” she spat out the last part as if it were displeasing to her taste buds. “Obviously there is a sensitivity chip missing” she parts her Volkswagen along the curb in front of my uncles house.

“Brooke insisted” I say and look her straight in the eye. “Put aside your resentment, put aside the past, Damien died today”

Her eyes are threatening to burst with tears and her bottom lip is trembling. Olive is holding herself together with the little willpower she has left. “I know Zayn” she whispers when I think she will yell. Do you forget I was at the hospital too?” she wipes her eyes, leaving black mascara stains under the rim of her glasses. “Plus Paco-” I cut Olive off at the very sound of his name, it irritates me. Once a tickle now a rash.

From what I have been told, a few men are locked up (from the assault) and it happened in the crap part of town. Latino central. Paco’s part of town. Paco Fuentes took two bullets for Damien, yet Paco lives and Damien dies. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? “I’m tired of hearing what a hero Paco is”

The look Olive gives me, is one I will never forget. I had run my mouth, and I had done so without thinking. Shit. “Zayn get out of my car”

“Why? For being honest?”

Olive pounds her steering wheel, and lets out a sob. “You come and go, and it’s a leisure you have while we all are stuck. We live the same life, only now we are devastated, and we are short a person. You live a fabulous life.” she sniffles. “I hope I am never face to face with you after the funeral”

“Olive you cant hold a grudge against me”, the part of me that cares about her wants to console her like friends. “Olive it isn’t fair” I am right, arent I? Olive is letting the past overshadow this moment, the present and no doubted the future.

“Zayn, I was on your side. I was your cheerleader up until you show up with her, I hate you for it” her words are a punch in the face and gut. I get the picture…the big picture. I am only here because it would have meant something to Damien. And I came for Damien, but I also wanted to see how Siobhan would react to my presence. Damn it. Why is everything about her, why does everything come down to her. And why wont these thoughts of her just dissipate?


That night as Brooke is asleep beside me, in what I used to call my bedroom, I cry.

I cry because Damien is dead. I cry because the friends I had, hate me now. I cry because I have all the riches I would ever want, and it still isn’t enough. I cry because streets away, Siobhan sleeps in a chair beside Paco Fuentes’ hospital bed.

And how I forgot to say aloud, how beautiful, how important, and how vital she is to me. How dare I tell myself I don’t need her? The minute I see her….I feel everything I shouldnt.

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