Chapter Text
Zayn rubbed the back of his neck, body slumped in his chair. He spun on it, tirelessly.
He needed a cigarette.
He looked at his watch, noting the early hours of the morning. He had to have his article done in two hours, and be down by the printer in three. Running a hand over his stubble ridden chin, he sighed, deeming it time for a cigarette. Pushing himself up from the chair, he grabbed his fags and lighter off of his desk, leaving on the small lamp. He was the only one left in the offices, everyone else having either finished or gone to the latest fraternity party; hosted by Kappa Delta Phi.
Those dicks.
He was exhausted, and all he could think about right now was getting a cigarette between his lips, and chugging a beer. But, the first was only an option, right now. He walked down the stairs, passing the cleaners who were more than likely the only one's left in the block, apart from kids desperate to study for an upcoming exam.
Pushing his way out of the double doors, he moved to stand by the brick wall; pulling a cigarette from the packet and securing it between his teeth, he fumbled for the box of matches. Grabbing them, he picked one and with two stikes, the match was lit. Lighting his cigarette, Zayn instantly relaxed as best he could in this situation. Shaking the match before dropping it on the ground, discarded with the rest. He pressed his back against the cold brick wall behind him, lifting to press one foot against it as he plucked the fag from his lips, holding the smoke in his lungs for longer than needed, before exhaling slowly through his nose.
He stared down at previous matches of his, almost smirking at how many times he's been in the situation. Almost smirking.
He looked over the quad, watching as students hurried from one place to the other. Being a Friday night, more than half of the campus were attending parties. Zayn was one of the few who wasn't. Not that he would want to. Liam had almost dragged him to the one back at the fraternity. He even said he'd come back down to the offices to check, bringing some of his 'brothers' to come and literally force him to the party. He respectfully declined, and when he says rescpectfully, he means something with three curse words or less.
Liam had rolled his eyes, but offered that smile. That fucking smile, with a nice, "Alright, mate. I understand."
Yes, fuck off, Liam.
Zayn continued to smoke his cigarette, vaguely wondering how much more he needed to do for his article. He still needed to right the cons for liking 'The Smiths', and the only one he could come up with is that they're no longer together.
He sighed, dropping his cigarette to the floor, his muscles instantly beginning to tense once again. He looked up over the campus, hearing a vague sound of someone retching. He indeed, was right, seeing a girl hold her friend's back as she tossed her cookies as Liam liked to phrase it. It didn't bother him, just like most things.
You could agrue and say that this magazine bothered him, but it didn't. It just annoyed him. There's a difference, he knows there is.
He licked at his lips, tasting the remaints of the nicotine, sighing, and heading back inside.
"Back to work I go," he muttered under his breath, eyebrows pulled together in displeasure.
He bumped into a body, chests bumping. He turned his body, frowning as he looked at the person who'd just full on walked into him. His frown didn't falter when he saw the half asleep boy, dragging himself through the hall. Ah, hard-core studying. "You alright, man?" He asked, tilting his head back to look at the boy carrying his weight in books. He received a grunt in return, before he literally walked the doors open.
With a crook of his eyebrow, Zayn paid it no mind and jogged back up the stairs to the office. Once he neared the door, he heard a familiar voice.
"I really don't know where he could have gone, all of his stuff is still here." Liam.
Zayn instantly cowered against the wall, pressing his back against it.
Shit.
"I don't know, mate. We can check again if you want?" Zayn didn't recognise that voice, he knew no one with a voice that annoyingly slow. He looked across the hallway, quietly jogging towards another room; keeping his hand on his pocket to stop his change from moving around. He opened the door quietly, stepping inside and closing the it behind him, almost wincing when the click gave a sharp click.
He couldn't get caught, he needed to finish the article and get everything down to the printer. He hid under one of the desks, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them; legs loose.
It felt vaguely like when he used to play hide and seek with Doniya and Waliyha, and he'd try and make himself as small as possible, although this time, he wasn't muffling a laugh into his shoulder.
"Can we just get back to the party, Liam? Forget about your friend, let him do what the fuck he wants. He's big enough and ugly enough, right?"
How pleasent.
Liam sighed, his voice growing faint. "I suppose there's always the next one." His voice trailed off, three sets of footsteps clearly heading down the stone stairs, noise bouncing off the solid walls.
He exhaled the breath he was holding, leaning his head back against the wood. He waited a good five minutes, before crawling from under the desk and standing up. He grimaced, looking down at his dusty knees.
After wiping his knees and arse, he moved from the room, still cautious. He sighed happily, dropping himself back down on his chair. His eyes closed for a moment, head rolling back, giving himself a mental pat on the back. When his eyes did finally open, he caught sight of the red cup resting beside his laptop, the colour triggering a flare of anger inside him, like a fucking bull, or some shit like that. Although, he did read somewhere that bulls weren't actually angered by red. He grunted none the less, arm raising to bat the cup away.
Maybe he wasn't so laid back as he'd like to believe, but everyone got frustrated.
Zayn was chilled though, just when he was under tremendous stress did he lose his shit.
Bullshit.
He simply moved the cup, trying to force his fingers to stop from clinching around the plastic. It's not like it had any liquid left in it, God forbid they leave a cup half drunken. He dropped it in the trash, before walking back and dropping himself in his seat, once again.
He finally managed to regain his interest, looking at his laptop. He wrote and wrote and wrote until it was 7:30am and he had to be down by the printer in half an hour. He quickly saved it all, sticking it onto his memory stick. He arranged his article into the magazine template, smirking at himself. He re-saved it, needing the original and the entire magazine. He shut his laptop, practically slamming it shut and sliding it into his bag before grabbing his denim jacket, chucking it over himself before grabbing his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder. He yawned so hard, his jaw cracked in multiple places.
His eyes were heavily lidded, blood shot and blurring. Decorated with two matching dark circles, his long eyelashes literally getting stuck together by how much his eyes were watering.
He walked from the building, slugging his body and backpack to the main office. He shoved the door open, the wood slamming against the wall. The women at the desk looked up at him, falling into silence. One blonde smiled, coming to greet him.
"Good morning, Zayn!" She chirped, a smile ligtening her face.
Zayn grunted, wet lips parting. He raised his hand, lazily, almost shoving the memory stick in her hand. After she took it, he raised his finger to his mouth; demanding silence. He then proceeded to back out of the office, stumbling. He faintly heard the group of women laughing, but he ignored it.
Fucking hell, his head was beginning to pound. He hadn't even had any alcohol, and he felt as if he had a hangover. He grabbed his sunglasses, roughly covering his eyes. He trudged through the campus, walking past various houses in which must have been occupied by a shit ton of party goers.
He snarled as he walked down Greek row, as it was referred to, noticing Liam's fraternity house. He also spotted his best friend and a few others boys' cleaning up the main porch. He really couldn't give a fuck, and trudged by them. Liam noticed him, looking down at him from the top stair; holding a black rubbish bag.
"Hey, where were you last night!" He didn't even ask it as a question; it sounded like an insult, if anything.
Zayn didn't even stop, not casting a glance. "Working, man."
Liam was about to speak again, when a familiar voice interrupted him. "Oi, mate, how about you give us a hand?" Zayn recognised that voice, immediately. The odd accent sticking to him.
"You're big enough and ugly enough. Do it yourself," he replied, limbs and eyes aching.
He received some laughs, obviously not from the male who spoke.
He continued to walk, feet trudging down the street.
"Zayn!" Liam called after him, obviously trying to grab his attention. Zayn simply raised his entire arm, flipping off his best friend.
Dicks.