The Girl that Wasn't

Zerrie, a 'real' couple. Well, they're not real at all. Management forced them to date each other so that both bands could get more publicity and prosper. It's been working, but Perrie and Zayn aren't. They're friends, no, not even, they're acquaintances who fake being in love. The one thing the media never knew about was Perrie's twin, aspiring college student at Oxford, Scarlett Elle Edwards wants nothing to do with Perrie's career. But when Perrie runs to her, sobbing, begging for her to fill in, Scarlett gives in. But what will happen when "Perrie" and Zayn meet?

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5. Zayn

author's note-well. hey guys. i know i said i might not be able to update but i am! the only problem? i can't put a cute zerrie/perrie/perrie twin picture :( oh well i'll add it later. enjoy loves, and please like, fan, favourite, and comment on me and my story! new harry fan fic coming soon (: 

love you all 

xxx

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I woke up in cold sweat, panting. Worried. I had a dream about mine and Zayn's date. What if he was abusive and that's why Pez was so stressed? What if he would notice? What if..?

My mind trailed off into the unknown and I couldn't help slapping myself for being so silly and stupid. I climbed out of bed, tossing the silky expensive covers to the side and trudged into my bathroom. I was never fully awake until I had brushed my teeth and washed my face after I got up. After 'waking up fully' I skipped into the kitchen. Yes, skipped. How could I not when I was in a large, fancy flat? 

I opened the fridge.

Oh shit.

Perrie Edwards's stupid dieting thing. All that was there was healthy. I dug into her drawers and found them. Microwave Eggo waffles. At least she knows how to sneak.

After my breakfast I proceeded to continue awaking and I hopped into the shower. I was still not aware of my surroundings yet and accidentally took a cold shower. Oh well.

After blow drying my hair and getting dressed, I did my makeup. I did it lightly which meant just some lip gloss and mascara. 

I glanced down at my clothed body. I was wearing a spaghetti strapped dark blue dress made of soft, light material. Whenever I walked, it flowed around me like wind. My feet were inside tall black heels.  I didn't think I needed a jacket, we'd be in a fancy restaurant with heating. 

Zayn wanted me to come around one so we could talk a bit and 'bond' at his place so he texted me the address to his flat last night. Right now it was about noon, and it made sense considering I woke up at ten. Yes, I was a heavy sleeper. 

I sat on my bed and pulled my laptop out, making sure that my dress wasn't being sat on. When I opened it, I had about eight new emails from college friends. I was surprised that they resorted to email since I didn't answer their texts because I was now Perrie Edwards and everyone except my girl band and Zayn Malik were too good for me. 

I read every single one until I was biting back tears. Then I moved all mail to the trash can, not able to look anymore and wonder why I threw everything away for my terrible sister. 

Netflix had the one thing that cheered me up, the Vampire Diaries. I opened Netflix and picked out my favorite episode in Season 2 (even though I had already been caught up to four) and I watched it for maybe the ninth time. 

When it finished I checked the time. One thirty. Crap. I hope Perrie was usually fashionably late or late I just hoped this wasn't unusual for her. I tried to run in my heels and that was just awkwardly stepping to 'my' car. I somewhat sped to his place, worried that he'd be upset. After I had made it past security and up the elevator I stood nervously at his door, knocking. I waited. It felt like forever until his feet shuffling reached the door. 

It opened.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping. 

Zayn Malik was a freaking Greek God. 

Adonis.

Perfect.

His stubble giving him an edge, his perfect jet black hair quiffed up, wearing black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt outlining his muscular body. 

He bit his lip.

I looked back up at him.

"Sorry I was late, I-" I tried but he cut me off. 

"Happens every time," he said emotionless. I sighed. That was sad, but at least it was regular for him. At least it wasn't like I was one hour early because I couldn't find anything else to do.

"Can I come in?" I asked quietly. He nodded and stepped aside, letting me enter his fancier-than-Perrie's-flat. Of course. One Direction was beyond huge. I did my research a few days ago. 

I remembered that Perrie told me Zayn hated people wearing shoes in his flat so I immediately slipped my feet out of my dangerously tall heels and walked over to the leather couch closest, sitting down. 

He closed the door behind me and followed, sitting down next to me.

"Hi," he said simply, "How are you?" 

I laughed. He frowned.

"What's so funny?," he asked sharply. I looked down, blushing, "Nothing, it's just how awkward it always is," I responded, sadness hitting me as the words settled. He nodded understandingly. 

"Perks of being forced to date!" he sighed. 

"Zayn, why don't we start over? Just be friends, not hate each other because of something we can't do anything about? Call a truce?" I said suddenly. He blinked, "Umm, yeah, sure, of course," he replied, almost questioningly like I had an evil intention to this all. 

I smiled, "Great, so, erm." I held my hand out for him to shake,"Perrie, Perrie Edwards," I teased.

He took my hand and kissed it, bowing his head to reach,"The name's Malik. Zayn Malik," I blushed a bit, flustered at how soft his full lips felt on my hand. I wonder if Perrie has ever kissed him. Oh wait, they have, I've seen pictures. 

"So Perrie, tell me a bit about yourself," He continues with our game. "Well, I'm nineteen, in a girl band that I love called Little Mix, I won the X Factor, I love vintage clothing and Batman and my favorite color is periwinkle because it sounds like my name!" I perkily said. This is the truth, thank God Perrie's my sister and not some random girl because I know everything about her.

He laughed his deep, still-Bradford-accented laugh. I felt a chill run down my spine but I smiled encouragingly at him, waiting for his introduction. "Well, um, I'm Zayn, I'm twenty, I'm one fifths of a world famous boyband called One Direction, we placed third in the X Factor, I love my hair and my favorite color is red. Oh wait! I am also dating a girl. I think her name is Periwinkle but I don't know really we're just kinda... together," he jokes and I punch him teasingly in the shoulder.

"Favorite movie, book. song, and season!" I fire questions at him. He looks at me suspiciously, "Are you okay, Periwinkle?" he half-jokes. I glare and he puts his hands up as if to surrender, "Scarface, Harry Potter, Thriller by Michael Jackson, and... Autumn," he smirks at the end a bit, "How about you, Edwards?" I sigh. "Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Great Gatsby, Mr. Brightside by The Killers, winter," I respond before gasping quietly. Those were NOT what Perrie Edwards would've said. They were what Scarlett would and did say. 

Shit.

He purses his lips. "Okay, my turn to fire questions. Am I hot? How in love are you with me, Zayn Malik? Did you know that Zayn is my stage name and it's actually spelled Z-A-I-N and that Zain means beautiful and my last name means king so basically my name means Beautiful King?" He speaks quickly with an undertone of tease.

I roll my eyes and do a high pitched voice to play along,"OMG yush Zen you are so yum yum and no I didn't know that but that's so cool my beautiful king!!!!" I wave my hands in the air. 

By the time my words sink in we're no longer on the couch but rolling on the floor holding our stomachs and laughing. 

That made it sound like we were having cramps, but never fear, Zayn is a boy and doesn't need to deal with the struggle.

I finally stand up and smooth down my hair that got a bit messed up when I rolled around.

And that sounds childish.

I really need to improve on my vocabulary.

"Oh, I see you're obsessed with your hair too then," he teases. I huff, "Well, if it's sticking up everywhere I have to attempt at patting it down!" 

He laughs and we sit down on the couch again. We spend the rest of the time talking, laughing, teasing each other, and becoming close friends in the matter of a few hours. It wasn't hard since we both sort-of knew each other. 

He checked his watch as we got into a discussion about places we've always wanted to visit. 

He clears his throat, "Erm, Periwinkle, hate to interrupt, but we have to go or we'll miss our reservations." He says matter-o-factly. I stand, "Of course, sorry," this comment seems to make him laugh. "No, no, you were keeping me entertained. Don't apologize that time flies when you're having fun," he winks flirtatiously at the end and I facepalm, "You make it sound like... like we're, you know, having... it," I blush madly. He blushes as well. 

I awkwardly stand up and smooth out my dress (and hair), plodding over to the door using the wall to hold myself up as I slip back into my heels. Zayn winces slightly when he sees my shoes. "Aren't those a bit, I dunno, tall? Couldn't you damage your ankle?" he questions almost... protectively.

I bite back a chuckle, since he's actually serious about the whole dangers of wearing high heels. I pat his shoulder and smile goofily at him, "That's only if I fall." then I mutter, "worrywart," loud enough for Zayn to hear me and know I'm just making fun of him. He scoffs, "I am not a worrywart!" 

I reach for the door handle, "Whatever makes you happy..... worrywart," and then I step out of the apartment. 

He steps out as well and locks the door. As we walk down the hallway to the elevator, I hear him mumble a checklist, "Phone, in my pocket. Keys, in my pocket. Wallet, in my pocket, snapback..." he trails off. 

At first I stupidly wondered why he'd need a snapback, but then I realize that in case the paparazzi come he can be shielded from the flashing cameras. 

Smart. 

We make small talk until we get into the car and turn the radio on, screeching along to Chris Brown. We both know we can sing, so why not screech terribly just for once. 

When we pull in to the restaurant I pull out my phone and tweet a quick, 

@LittleMixOffic: spending time w/ my man @zaynmalik (: xx perrie <3 

Then I shut it off because I don't want any calls or texts during dinner, placing it back in my black clutch. While I do that, Zayn comes around to my door and opens it, holding out his hand. I take it gratefully and step, using him for support because I now fear tripping. We walk into the restaurant hand in hand, and as I take in the scenery, I gasp.

-

weeeeeeeeeeeee, i updated!! 

i'm really happy with this story and i'd love if you were more active about commenting.

if you are reading this author note, tell me your favorite song in the comments.

that way i'll know if you're actually reading these lol i have issues okay bye ily all stay phresh and beautiful and lovely and everything in between.

like, fan, favorite, feedback, critique, etc, just let me know you're on this page or my profile (:

xxx

 

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