London Calling

Jen was in the middle of putting on her coat when she saw Zayn in the familiar art studio. She immediately stopped trying to get her hand through the sleeve of her red pea coat. With her book bag and coat in her hands, she made her way into the brightly lit room. She set her stuff down and sat in the next chair to Zayn as quietly as she could so as to not disturb his concentration. He looked adorable with his thick eyebrows crunched in focus, his eyes never leaving his work. The only indication that he was aware of her presence was the smile that graced his lips as he kept his eyes on the landscape he was recreating from the picture placed on the bottom left of the easel.

She watched in awe as his hand danced around the canvas skillfully drawing the sunset with seemingly no effort at all. She reached up to touch the drawing but quickly pulled her hand back. She didn’t want to smudge the work of perfection in front of her. Chuckling, putting his sketch pencil down, and taking her hand in his, he bent all her fingers into a fist excluding her index. Moving it with his, her finger lightly brushed over specific spots to create his desired smudges. When he let go of her hand she took in the whole image and saw the shadow effect he had created with her finger. He finally looked at her and smiled, “You’re an artist.”

She giggled and replied, “Look at that, I’m a beast. Best smudges this side of London.”

He laughed as he stood and got a spray can from the supply closet. Upon closer inspection she saw that it was a special spray that would prevent any unwanted smudges ruining his drawing. She had thought that would only be used with chalk drawing because that’s all she used it for in her high school art class, but she supposed it was a big project and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He sprayed his landscape before looking down at her and asking, “Was there something you needed love?”

“No, I just wanted to see you in action. I was just going to stay here and write for a little bit.”

“What are you writing about?” Zayn asked while sitting back down in the chair next to her.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and she looked away as she mumbled, “I don’t know yet.” She certainly did know what she was writing about, but to her it seemed too personal unless she was discussing her ideas with a close friend. Her writing was a part of her and she didn’t give that to just anyone.

“You can tell me, I promise not to laugh. You’re not writing something like Fifty Shades are you?”

“No! Hell no!”

“Then whatever it is can’t be that bad.” He knocked a knee into hers, “Come on tell me.”

“I can’t just tell you! That’s like nonchalantly ripping out a piece of my soul and handing it to you!” she told him indignantly. For good measure she slapped him on the arm.

“Oh dear,” Zayn chuckled, “That is a serious commitment. Let me get this straight, you get to watch me draw whenever you so desire, but I can’t read your writing?”

“You would be correct sir. I don’t even know you!”

Zayn stood up and then offered his hand to her, “Get to know me then.”

*****

Zayn and Jen had decided to get to Caffe Concerto. It was a small Italian restaurant at the heart of the city that played live music while the two ate and where Zayn gotten her take out as well. Jen had ordered ravioli and Zayn ordered the standard spaghetti and meatballs. Once the waiter left them, Zayn leaned forward in his chair and told her. “We are going to play a game. One of us will choose a topic and then we both have to answer so we can get to know one another.” Jen smiled at him and nodded. Being the gentleman she had described him as the night before, he motioned for her to pick the first topic.

He was nervous about telling her about himself. With every answer, he ran the risk of her finding out that he was in a popular band. He didn’t want to hide it from her; he merely enjoyed her company and getting to know each other on his own terms. Zayn was fairly confident that she wouldn’t blow the situation out of hand since her brother was a seemingly big deal in Chicago. He had faith that his fame wouldn’t matter to her, but he had been wrong before and he wasn’t ready to let go of their new friendship just yet.

“Family?” she asked before taking a sip of her water and looking at him expectantly.

“My family is my dad, Yesir; mom, Tricia; sister, Doniya; sister, Waliyha; and sister, Safaa. All of my sisters are younger than I am.”

“I have my dad, Bryan; mom, Andree; brother, Jonathan; and brother, David. Jonathan and David
are both older than me.”

“Full name.”

“Jennifer Ann Toews.”

“Zain Javadd Malik.”

“Hometown.”

“Bradford.”

“Winnipeg.”

“Worst fear.”

“Spiders, definitely, they creep me out so bad. This one time there was a daddy long leg in Jon and my kitchen and I screamed and jumped on the counter until Jon killed it for me,” she said while she looked down at the table while Zayn chuckled.

“I have a fear of water I guess it would be. I never learned to swim because I was quite a mess when I would try to get into the water.”

Jen looked at him in mock pity and patted the hand that was resting on top of the white table cloth, “You poor soul. Jon, David, and Dad taught me how to swim. Jobs?”

Shit. This was the moment that Zayn had been dreading all night. He wasn’t stupid; he knew it would come up eventually. But even with this knowledge he still didn’t have an answer ready for this question. He briefly considered lying to her, but quickly decided against it. There was no way that he could possibly hide this forever. He was surprised that the paps weren’t taking pictures of them both. He wished he had a better way to tell her than to just blurt it out. Instead of doing that and deciding to vaguely answer the question he told her, “I’m a musician. I’m currently in the studio with a couple of artists working on an album.”

“Really!” she exclaimed with an excited grin on her face. “Do you play an instrument or something?”

“No, I sing. What about you, what was your most recent job?”

“I’m the assistant equipment manager for the Blackhawks,” she replied. She was just getting ready to say something else which Zayn knew would be about his music, but luckily their meals had arrived just in time.

The two ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the good food and piano player. Occasionally they would share glances and smile once they were caught. Zayn really liked Jen. She wasn’t an over chatty person, she was okay with a period of silence and that was endearing to him. When he had become famous, girls felt the need to talk all the time in an effort to impress him. Jen, however, seemed to just need that time to herself in order to think after a conversation. It was probably because she was a writer and tried to backlog everything she had observed in case she ever needed it in one of her works. He found it adorable the way she would stare off into the distance as she ate with an intense look of concentration adorning her face like she was contemplating the secrets to life.

After much debate, Zayn begrudgingly split the bill with her. She had to threaten his manhood to achieve this, but he found her independence amusing. She wrapped both arms around his left arm as they walked back to his car and he opened the door for her like he always did. Once Zayn started his car, the song With You by Chris Brown came on and he softly sang along as Jen watched him with a soft smile on her face.

All too soon they had arrived at Jen’s flat and Zayn accompanied her to her door. Before she went in, she wrapped her arms around Zayn’s neck in a hug. “I’m glad I met you. I’m happy to finally have a friend in London. Now it’s not so bad.”

“I’m glad I met you as well, you’re really easy to talk to. Goodnight Jen.”

“Night Zayn, drive safely.”