Just Give Up

I didn't mean to sound as rude and obnoxious as I did. I was caught up in embarrassment and anger. I walk in to find her listening to One Direction. Memories of my past with the boys rush back. I wasn't mad she found out about my career as a singer. I was mad that she found out about them.

And I was especially mad when she accused me off keeping my past from her. Nothing in the books ever said about telling your past to the person your protecting. I mean, what business is it to them? To get to know you better? Sure. You could tell them your hobbies and all, your dislikes and likes, but your past? Too personal.

She continued on with the questions about myself. If I changed the topic, she would jump back into the old one before it.

"You don't talk much about your family." What was there to say?

"My father is the reason why I quit One Direction." I spit out unhappily. "If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here."

She was caught off guard, that was easily noted. I didn't mean to sound as harsh as I did, but there was no going back on my words. I did regret saying it in such a bad tone, but if I said it more softly, she wouldn't take my words seriously. I was sure of it.

"Oh." Was all she said after a long pause.

I shrug my shoulders. "You wanted to know why I was here, right? You wanted to know why I quit, so there." I tried saying this in a more softer tone. But now, I sounded even more like a douchebag. I sounded care-free.
She didn't say anything but lowered her gaze down to her hands.

"What was it like being in a band?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shrugged. "Just like how everyone says it feels like. Great. Awesome. Fun. Easy but hard at the same time? Surprising." I shrug off the question like an itchy sweater.

I didn't want to talk about it. To be honest, I wished she never found out. Or if she did, not at that time. I was still pretty upset by how things ended. I was more upset at my dad for ruining my life. For so easily stepping in after being out of the picture for the longest time. For practically taking it over like another game. I was now stuck with Renee.

"Besides partying," I began, thinking of how to propose my question without insulting her all too badly, "What else do you like to do?"

She raised her eyebrows. Was she not expecting that kind of question from me? "I'm into travelling. But I can't really do that. If I'm out of the house for most of the night, I get assigned a personal bodyguard. What would happen if I stayed out for two weeks? Surely I'd be dead by now. Your boss takes a practical liking to taking away my freedom to the maximum." I couldn't tell whether or not she was joking by the sound of her voice.

But her seductive smile explained everything.

"Do you mind playing me a song?" She asked.

"Like what?" I asked, contemplating whether or not to do it.

"How about a song of your old band?" She grinned, already pressing the blue button over her head.

"How about no?" I mocked her tone.

"How about 'one thing'?" She persisted.

"I would if I could, But I can't so I won't." I laughed at the annoyed expression on her face. "I'm only kidding, do you have a guitar?"

At that moment, Francis appeared the door with a knock on the wall. "You called, Ms. Colton?"

"Do you mind fetching Zayn a guitar from father's study?" I heard Renee say in her most polite voice.

"But of course Miss, just wait a moment." I heard Francis' voice, but he felt so far away.

For a split second, Renee actually looked like a girl in some Vogue magazine, with an innocent smile on her face. Her hair draped around her shoulders in a flattering way that made her face look slimmer. Just for that second, I had forgotten the fact that she was a rebel.

"What are you looking at?" Her rude, snobby tone returned as she caught me staring at her in awe.

"Nothing." I replied, looking away.

Francis returned at that same moment, handing me the guitar, then taking away Renee's dirty dishes with him. I gave him a smile as a thank you, before strumming the guitar, making sure t was in tune. Thankfully, it was. I looked up, Renee's green eyes boring into my own brown ones, waiting for me to break out singing.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Waiting for my talented body guard to sing." She grinned.

I raised my eyebrows at her, but I begin to play the guitar anyway, making sure not to look up at her and instead, keep my eyes down at the guitar, making sure I was playing it right. I hadn't touched one in so long.

"I tried playing it cool, but when I'm looking at you,
I can't ever be brave, because you make my heart race.
Shot me out of the sky, you're my kryptonite,
You keep making me weak,
Yeah frozen, and can't breathe."

I look up for the first time. Expecting to see her green eyes looking back at me, I'm looking straight at a camera insead. I didn't want to stop playing, but I didn't want her to record me singing either. I continue a little more, waiting for a good time to stop.

"Get out, get out, Get out of my head,
And fall into my arms instead!
I don't, I don't, don't know what it is.
But I need that one thing and,
You've got that one thing!"

I strum a few more times, but no longer sing. I look up again, but insead of the camera, I am looking into the green, beautiful eyes I was expecting to see the first time. I smiled. This time, a genuine one. Not a smile you would fake at the paparazzi as they try to get a good photo of you. Surprisingly, she smilea back. I put the guitar down, next to my chair.

"You're an amazing singer," She said in a voice I never heard her use. "And an amazimg guitarist."

I shrugged my shoulders, "I try, I try."

We spend the rest of the late morning talking, getting to know each other. Or tried to, at least. She kept on avoiding questions about her past. Either throwing a pillow at me from across the room, or shooting the question back at me. We continued to do this for an hour. Ask a question. Get hit with a pillow. Ask question. Question reflects back at you. Throw pillow back. Cycle repeats.

"How many boyfriends have you had?" I asked, throwing the pillow back at her.

"Um.. One serious one. And that was in junior year, we dated for eight months until he cheated on me with this stupid skank cheerleader. How about you? How many girlfriends have you had?" She throwed the pillow back at me.

I fall off my chair because of the force in her throw and she laughs, "Ow!" I yelp as I hit the ground with a thud.

Renee's busy laughing her ass off as I curl into a ball in fake pain, complaining how hurt my elbows and knees were, and wondering why the world hated me so much. She continues to laugh, even after I've picked myself up off the ground. I shake my head, grinning from ear to ear. Her laugh was like music to my ears. I launch myself onto her bed, tickling her.

"Stop!" she squeals underneath me.

"What was that for, eh? MS. COLTON? What right in the world do you have to pulverize me with pillows, such cushiony pillows?" I tickle her sides lightly, even with the slightest touch, she would scream.

"S-s-stop!" she said, but I didn't.

"Say sorry." I demanded.

"I'm sorry baby Zaynnnnnn~" She said in a mock apologizing tone.

"Say it like you mean it." I fake snarled.

"And what if I don't?"

"I won't let you go."

"Too bad."

We looked at each other, waiting to see who would make the first move. She had a smirk on her face, while I tried to keep my own mouth straight. I could not show her that I was enjoying this immensly. Tired of our staring contest, I did the unthinkable.