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Chapter 15: Zayn

Chapter 15: Zayn


Kashine


Third is Zayn:


"I don't dance much," he said as soon as the door closed behind him. I nodded. I knew that, but he had no choice.

"I don't want to do anything too complicated or too embarrassing," he added. I rolled my eyes. No promises.

To some people dancing is completely humiliating, while others (like me) have a tolerance for it and make it worthwhile. Zayn, unfortunately, is part of the first option. He nearly dropped out of the X Factor because he didn't want to dance. Now that's what I call stupid.

Hopefully stretching wasn't too embarrassing for him. He stood next to me and did it with me, and he was as flexible as Liam. He sat down on the couch without me having to tell him to, and I got the feeling word was traveling fast about how I got them to cooperate. Good enough for me. It got kind of annoying doing the same things over and over again. Except dancing.

I started the music and showed him his moves. Now his parts were definitely going to take awhile. He had a bunch of solos, and it's kind of hard for me to keep them all in order while having to remember the rest of the boys' moves, their schedules, and counting down how much time we had left.

I stopped and he stared at me. Slowly he shook his head. "I'm not doing that," he said and I frowned. "It's too... strange," he explained. "Dancing just isn't my thing." I had to write on my arm again:



Zayn, you have to, and not just for your performances' benefits, but for my benefits too. If you don't do this, I'll get fired and that would utterly destroy me. These moves are simple, and no one's going to laugh at you for looking amazing.



He looked at me warily, like he wasn't quite sure if he should believe me. But it's the truth. I hoped Zayn liked me and wouldn't say a comment like, "I don't care". That would hurt.

But he sighed loudly and heaved himself to his feet, letting out all of his distaste in those two movements. But I didn't care. As long as he obeyed my orders and danced, I was fine with any attitude they gave me.

He stood next to me and I showed him the moves one more time. Then I moved in front of him and began to do them slower. Luckily his and Niall's solo were practically the same, so that was easy. He actually got that down pat.

Next for his shorter solos I only wanted him to sing. No moves because they were too short.

Then I showed him the chorus. That's when he put his foot down. "I'm sorry, Kashine," he said. "But I don't... I can't do those moves." I frowned at him again.



Yes, you can. You just need faith.



"That's the problem," he said, a little irritated. "I don't have faith. I don't want to do this. In my opinion, Simon should have asked our permission first before hiring a dance choreographer." His words hurt, but made sense, and I tried not to stab myself as I wrote.



Zayn, please do this. It's not hard, anyone can do it. Nobody is going to laugh at you or make fun of you. If anything, they're going to love you. And besides, I bet you would have been outvoted if Simon asked you all for permission.



Just a little sting at the end there. Zayn frowned as he read my arm. He sighed. I added:



This will definitely take some getting used to. Trust me, I know all about having to do something I have no interest in at all.



I gave him a pointed look. I was trying to tell him I get it. Not everybody likes dancing. But he better get used to it, like I did with silence.

With having to go to school everyday and coping with Miley. Having to cope with seeing Keith and knowing I had no chance with him despite my wishes. But maybe that'd all change. Things were starting to look up when I left.

"Fine," Zayn said, taking me from my thoughts. "I'll do it. Only this...." His voice trailed off. He couldn't say "only this once" because he's gonna have to keep on doing it whether he liked it or not. No freedom of choice here.

I smiled and nodded. I showed him the chorus again, and we worked on that for awhile. For a guy who didn't like to dance, he wasn't half-bad.

We kept on going, and I made him dance to the song at least five times for each of his solos and choruses. And that's a lot. By the time we were done he was panting and sweating like crazy.

"Okay," he said as I gave him my water. He drained it all in one swig. I rolled my eyes. I was barely sweating. "I officially want to sing less," he said and I laughed.



Give some solos to Louis. I'm sure he would LOVE that.



I hoped Zayn could sense my sarcasm at the end, and somehow he did. He laughed along with me. "Good luck with him," he smirked. "You got me to dance and that's admittedly impressive, but he's the second hardest person to crack I know. He only likes to do his moves."

I wasn't expecting that. Have mercy on me if he's as stubborn as Zayn said he was. And Zayn couldn't be wrong because he'd lived with Louis and known him for about two years.



Again?



"No!" Zayn shouted and I laughed again.



You have to. And besides, you're having fun. Admit it.



He sighed. "Alright, maybe a little," he said and I grinned. I ruffled his sweaty hair so that it was even more messed up, then I wiped my hand off on his shirt. Gross.

I danced along with him, and just for fun, tripped him at times. Each time he stumbled I would laugh.

"Kashine!" he shouted when he actually fell once. I smiled innocently. What did I do? my expression asked. "You know perfectly well what you did," he said. "And you're gonna pay."

I giggled, and we ran around the room. "Get back here!" he shouted and I grinned. I wanted to yell, "Catch me if you can!" or something like that.

I suddenly stopped and sidestepped. Zayn ran past me, caught off guard, and nearly crashed into the control panel. "Whoa!" he gasped and righted himself. I laughed at him.

I'd been laughing more and more often. I didn't know why, but I liked to think I was taking Keith's advice. I brought a piece of him with me. That's nice to think about.

Suddenly I was falling as I felt a pressure on my back, and I twisted around so I wouldn't fall onto my chest. I fell on my arm, and I winced as I hit my funny bone. My arm erupted in a tingly sensation and went limp. I couldn't move it without getting another surge of tingles.

Zayn was sitting on top of me and looking pretty proud of himself. I pouted and tried pushing him off, but he was too heavy. I could barely breathe. "That'll teach you," he smirked. Then he paused. "Wait, why are we fighting again?" he asked and I laughed. Oh, Zayn.

I pounded him until he realized he should probably get off of me. But before he could move there was a knock on the door. I froze. We practically spent this whole session fighting or playing or laughing! We barely got any dancing done! Well, at least he knew his moves and he's pretty good at them.

The door opened and Louis' head poked inside. He grinned when he saw us. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked pointedly. I flushed bright red. "No," Zayn scowled.

"Are you sure?" Louis asked and pointed with his finger. "You two look pretty comfortable." I gasped in irritation and pushed Zayn again. He stood up and I did too, brushing myself off. Zayn read my mind. "Wait outside," he said. "Kashine will be ready for you soon."

"Just needs to clean herself off first," Louis snickered as he left and I wanted to punch him. Good thing he's out of sight.

Zayn turned to me a little apologetically. "Er, sorry, Kashine," he said, sounding sheepish. I waved it away, like: oh, who cares? I wrote on my arm:



You did good today, Zayn. The best by far. Don't tell the other boys I said that.



He chuckled. "You have my word," he said and we shook hands. I smiled. "See you at dinner," he said and left the recording studio.