Status: Complete
Never What You Think
Room 408
He knocked on another door. The door to room 408. “Yo!” Zayn greeted, opening it immediately. He was wearing a bath robe. “Hey!” The boy replied, flashing a killer smile.
“Come in!” The Bradford boy said, leaving the door open for his friend to follow him inside his chilly hotel room. As his buddy walked in, he admired the room. It wasn’t as messy as the bother boys’ rooms. In the bathroom he could hear water running. “You drawing a bath?” He asked, motioning toward the bathroom. Zayn nodded. “Yeah, Yeah. Just need to chill.” His band mate nodded in response. “What you been up to?” He took a seat on the counter by the mini fridge. Zayn sighed dramatically.
“Arguing.” He opened the mini fridge, then handed his friend a drink. But he refused. “You don’t want?” Zayn asked, baffled. His friend shook his head. “No…” That’s odd. It was rare of his buddy to ever refuse a drink, or to get wasted…ever. “You sure?”
“I said I don’t want a damn pint!” His friend said loudly. His voice was rough and unusual. His friend jumped. “All right.” He held his hands up in defense, replacing the pint back in the mini fridge. His friend blinked a few times. “Yeah…um fights? Girlfriend problems?” Zayn nodded.
“She wants to get married and have a baby soon. I don’t. So now she’s mad at me.”
‘Woman.” His friend muttered.
“Tell me bout it.” Zayn laughed. “Gotta go turn that water off.” He said walking into the bathroom. His friend watched as Zayn disappeared behind the bathroom door. A smirk started to creep onto his face. He went over and closed the blind. For reasons. Slyly walking over to the bathroom, he pushed the door open. Zayn’s head snapped towards the door when he heard a soft creak. “Sorry, mate. Just adding this bath salt.” he said, leaning over the tub. But his friend didn’t reply. Instead, he just silently creeped over to Zayn. “People have these things about bath salts. Apparently, they’re a girl thing. But I like em. Even though I pamper myself, I’m still a Bradford Bad boy.” He chuckled at his joke. He didn’t even notice his friend’s close presence behind him. “Are you?” His friend whispered in his ear, sending chilling shivers down Zayn’s spine. “Why are you so clo-” Suddenly, Zayn’s face was shoved into the water. He moved his hands to the side of the tub to lift himself out of the water. But it failed. His lungs were filled with cold air as he was yanked by his hair out of the water. “Dude, what the f-” Shoved, again, under the water. Zayn flailed his arms, struggling to breathe. But instead of air, he inhaled water. Drowning. When his “friend” was sure he was dead, he let go, and took a deep breathe, That took a lot more effort than he thought. He wiped the sweat off his brow then stood, satisfied. “Not such a ‘Bradford bad boy’ now? Are you now?” He chuckled. Only one more spot to go. Room 410.
“Come in!” The Bradford boy said, leaving the door open for his friend to follow him inside his chilly hotel room. As his buddy walked in, he admired the room. It wasn’t as messy as the bother boys’ rooms. In the bathroom he could hear water running. “You drawing a bath?” He asked, motioning toward the bathroom. Zayn nodded. “Yeah, Yeah. Just need to chill.” His band mate nodded in response. “What you been up to?” He took a seat on the counter by the mini fridge. Zayn sighed dramatically.
“Arguing.” He opened the mini fridge, then handed his friend a drink. But he refused. “You don’t want?” Zayn asked, baffled. His friend shook his head. “No…” That’s odd. It was rare of his buddy to ever refuse a drink, or to get wasted…ever. “You sure?”
“I said I don’t want a damn pint!” His friend said loudly. His voice was rough and unusual. His friend jumped. “All right.” He held his hands up in defense, replacing the pint back in the mini fridge. His friend blinked a few times. “Yeah…um fights? Girlfriend problems?” Zayn nodded.
“She wants to get married and have a baby soon. I don’t. So now she’s mad at me.”
‘Woman.” His friend muttered.
“Tell me bout it.” Zayn laughed. “Gotta go turn that water off.” He said walking into the bathroom. His friend watched as Zayn disappeared behind the bathroom door. A smirk started to creep onto his face. He went over and closed the blind. For reasons. Slyly walking over to the bathroom, he pushed the door open. Zayn’s head snapped towards the door when he heard a soft creak. “Sorry, mate. Just adding this bath salt.” he said, leaning over the tub. But his friend didn’t reply. Instead, he just silently creeped over to Zayn. “People have these things about bath salts. Apparently, they’re a girl thing. But I like em. Even though I pamper myself, I’m still a Bradford Bad boy.” He chuckled at his joke. He didn’t even notice his friend’s close presence behind him. “Are you?” His friend whispered in his ear, sending chilling shivers down Zayn’s spine. “Why are you so clo-” Suddenly, Zayn’s face was shoved into the water. He moved his hands to the side of the tub to lift himself out of the water. But it failed. His lungs were filled with cold air as he was yanked by his hair out of the water. “Dude, what the f-” Shoved, again, under the water. Zayn flailed his arms, struggling to breathe. But instead of air, he inhaled water. Drowning. When his “friend” was sure he was dead, he let go, and took a deep breathe, That took a lot more effort than he thought. He wiped the sweat off his brow then stood, satisfied. “Not such a ‘Bradford bad boy’ now? Are you now?” He chuckled. Only one more spot to go. Room 410.