Sleepyhead

“It’s like the zombie fucking apocalypse outside.”

Inès gave me a funny look, obviously not understanding what I was talking about.

“It is crazy outside,” I stated, this time in French. She nodded her head vigorously in agreement, mumbling something about demented young girls in French while arranging the pillows on the bed between us. We were in one of the rooms on the higher levels, but even then we could still hear the faint sound of screaming outside.

When we had finished and made it down to the lobby, the fans had started singing. I couldn’t quite make out exactly what they were saying but even through their thick French accents, I could tell they were singing in English.

“Maybe Americans, aye?” Inès asked hopefully, like it would somehow make a difference to me. It didn’t, I just wanted to catch a glimpse at the people responsible for all of this commotion.

4 hours later and I thought I was going to explode. Victor had scrambled a handful of maids to clean out and prepare a private party room for the special guests. I had the misfortune of bumping into Victor after coming back from a bathroom break and was recruited as one of them. It seemed like the whole hotel had turned into a zoo. It was almost dusk and the crowd outside had not made any movements to leave, even with the many attempts of the security, belonging to the hotel and the important guests. Even with security, fans still seemed to find their way through. Javier, along with a couple other strangling staff members, was given the job of catching the kids.

“It’s like a game,” He said enthusiastically as he passed me in the lobby, two girls no older 13 in his clutch.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re having fun,” I replied, making my way back to the party room.

Upon noticing Victor making his way in as well, I backtracked out of his direction and walked/ran down the hall. Without much thought I slipped through a large glass door that led to one of the side balconies. Walking to the railing, I looked down at a small courtyard for guests. Taking a deep breath, I tried to drown out the murmur of yelling coming from the other side of the hotel.

A couple minutes later the sound of the door opening and closing were heard. I was hesitant to turn to face the person, in fear that the person might be Victor but after a couple moments of silence I decided it was safe and kept my view on the ground below. The enterer joined me at the railing soon enough and I noticed without much of a glance that it was a man. I didn’t spot blue in his attire which ruled out a staff member. I figured he was a guest.

“Bonjour,” I said in habit upon dealing with guests.

The guy turned to me, letting me take a full look at him. In the split second I got a look of him before he spoke, I could tell instantly he was quite attractive, though he did not resemble a typical French man, which I confirmed he wasn’t when he said, “Hello,” in French less accent. Possibly English from the sound of it.

I nodded and looked away before a few minutes later when he spoke again.

“Would you like one?” He spoke slow and overly gestured to his pack of cigarettes. He probably thought I didn’t speak English.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

He raised his eyebrows when I spoke, not expecting my perfect English.

“You’re not French,” He stated, sticking his pack of cigarettes back in his jacket pocket.

“You aren’t either,” I pointed out, watching him take a puff of his cigarette and look back at he slowly. He looked like he needed sleep.

“I’m English and you’re American I presume? Canadian maybe?”

“American, originally, but I’ve been living in London the last few years, before moving here of course.”

“You look quite young to be moving around so much.”

I shrugged and turned to face the courtyard again.

“What’s your name?”

“Gwen.”

“Nice to meet you, Gwen. I’m Zayn,” He smiled and stuck out his hand. I shook it lazily and leaned back on the rail.

“What are you doing in Paris, Zayn? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“Work stuff,” He said instantly, turning his face to the city view ahead.

“You look quite young to be going on business trips,” I said, curiosity getting the best of me. Hotel staff wasn’t exactly encouraged to pry into guests’ private matters.

He shrugged his shoulders, turning to flash me a smile. I could tell he was mimicking my earlier response, making me laugh lightly.

“How do you like Paris so far?”

Before he could respond the balcony door opened, causing Zayn and I to turn our heads back. A husky man in all black peeked his head through and upon seeing us, exposed himself fully.

“Zayn, you guys have an interview to get ready for,” The man said looking from Zayn and I pointedly.

I raised my eyebrows while Zayn nodded and dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his feet.

“Are you part of the special guests staying here?” I asked even though I knew it had to be true.

He sighed and nodded his head, looking at me skeptically

“Well I’ve got to say, you have caused quite the shitstorm around here.”

He laughed loudly and looked back at the direction of the man.

“I’m coming, Paul, one second,” The man nodded and disappeared back inside.

“It was nice meeting you,” Zayn said, stepping away from the railing and turning to me fully.

“Yeah, likewise,” I said turning my head towards him.

“Can we talk again? Maybe later when I’m done with stuff? It’s rare to find someone to have a normal conversation with, with my job,” He asked hopefully, sliding his hands in his jean pockets.

“Sure,” I shrugged, smiling lightly.

He smiled back and started walking back towards the door.

Grabbing the handle, he stopped, turning back to me.

“How would I find you?”

“I never leave this place, trust me, I’ll be around,” I waved him off with a smile.

He nodded, smiling and disappeared back inside.