Tuning Heartstrings

Zayn hadn't felt so horrible after a night of drinking in a long while. He hadn't been drinking a lot after swearing off the spirits for a bit of time after the incident with Billie – whenever he cracked and allowed himself the opportunity to indulge in an alcoholic beverage, it was usually only one or two bottles of whatever beer he bought from the local convenience store, but once he had seen the open bar at Envy the previous night, he couldn't resist the urge to consume the different assortments of drinks they had.

However, accompanied by the throbbing headache that would always plague him after a night of getting wasted, a sort of soreness was there as well. His bones ached and his muscles seemed to pulsate grievously even as he simply lay there. As his brow furrowed together, his face stung from a more intense pain, his eyes soon cracking open the slightest bit, the morning light blinding him for a few seconds before his pupils grew accustomed to the brightness.

The first thing that he took notice of was a brunette, her locks of dark brown hair cascading over her face as she slept with her head upon the couch, her body leaning against the furniture. His fingers gently moved some strands of her hair, and he recognized her as Billie right away.

Seeing her face seemed to spark the memories in him, and he was soon beginning to recall the previous night's events. He had wanted to get out and be somewhere where he could have a good time and a few drinks, so he had left for Envy early in the night, originally planning to go before the crowds would show up later in the later hours and leave before it the place became too rowdy. Once he had a few drinks at the bar, he found himself dancing with a few different girls before making his way back and that was when he had run into her.

Then that asshole had approached her and tried to force her away with him, but Zayn had managed to get Billie from him. Although in doing so, he had pissed off the drunkard to the point where they had started a fist-fight, and even though he had taken his fair share of hits, he could still relish in the fact that he had gotten some good ones of his own in there. Still, the thought of it all made his bruises and face swell sorely, his fingers beginning to delicately trace his head and feel the small bump that was on his cheek as well as a bandage that was placed above his eyebrow.

It was clear that he had blacked out that night, meaning that Billie had to have been the one to patch him and his few cuts up. However, that still left the question as to how they had both ended up in his apartment – how she had managed to bring him home from the club and get him all the way onto the couch.

He gazed at her curiously, his brown eyes staring at her sleeping form with interest and a bit of amusement as her slightly ajar mouth allowed small snores to escape her. Zayn could only think that she was a weird one – in a good way, of course. He had been a massive prick with her numerous times, had yelled at her and such, yet she was here in his apartment, dozing off against his sofa while after having taken care of him that night.

And that was when he knew that he just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't bring himself to simply ignore her or be such an ass with her. He was going to try and start fresh with her – if she would allow him to that is, and try to be on more courteous terms.

With the utmost care, he sat upright on the sofa and maneuvered himself off the couch without stirring her. Zayn knelt down beside her and wrapped an arm around Billie's back, gently using his other to place her into his hold so he could scoop her up and off the floor. As he lifted her up, he tensed when it seemed she was beginning to be roused from her sleep, but gave a silent sigh of relief when she seemed to lull herself back to sleep.

He headed down the small hallway and entered his bedroom, placing her onto his bed that was – thankfully – made and clean, and covering her with a light blanket as he imagined her legs might get cold since she was still wearing her little black dress. He exited the room with one final look back at her to make sure she looked comfortable enough and then returned into the living room, fixing up the place a bit and putting away the First Aid Kit (that he forgot he even had as his mother had practically shoved it upon him when he first moved into his apartment) that she had taken out.

Once that was done, Zayn headed into the kitchen and raided his fridge, checking to see if anything edible was inside. He pulled out a carton of eggs – feeling defeated as that's all there was to really eat, and began to cook them as scrambled. He made a few slices of toast and placed them onto a plate along with the eggs – enough for both him and her, and set the table with some cups, orange juice, and utensils. He had to stop and admire his work as he felt proud of himself for cooking and making an effort to make a presentable breakfast.

Heading back down the corridor, he entered his room and saw she was still snoring away with the blanket having been kicked off her legs. Zayn found it to be a bit funny for some reason as he chuckled while approaching her, sitting down beside her on the bed and clearing his throat as he shook her awake gently.

“Hey,” he called, “wake up.”

Billie gave a moan of disagreement, turning away from Zayn and getting comfortable once more on his bed. Zayn called to her once more, getting another similar response.

“Billie, it's morning,” he prodded, looking over at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand that declared it as being five minutes past eight. “Wake up.”

“Mom, it's too early,” she mumbled. “Five more minutes.”

He smirked to himself and held back his laughter. “I'm not your mom, Billie. Now wake up.”

It seemed to do the trick as it registered in her mind that someone with such a low tone of voice couldn't be her mother, and she tensed up, twisting around on the bed to face whoever was talking to her with wide, nervous eyes. Seeing it was Zayn didn't make her any less nervous though, if anything, it made her more so. All that she could think about was how the last time she had fallen asleep at his house ended, and if it was going to happen again, she was dreading what he would tell her this time. Was he going to blow up on her again?

She decided she wasn't going to give him the opportunity.

“I'm sorry, I just fell asleep on accident. I'll leave right now – sorry.” Billie began to scramble to get up quickly, tossing her legs over the side of the bed and starting to push herself up and off, but instead was stopped immediately.

“Wait,” Zayn commanded, grabbing her wrist gently. She looked at him curiously, not sure why he was stopping her when she knew that he probably didn't like when people were in his home – especially without his permission, and when he nodded to the bed, she complied and sat down anxiously.

That was also when Billie finally realized that she was no longer in his living room, but his bedroom, and knowing that didn't help the situation either. She glanced about it for a few seconds, eyeing his white walls with dark red décor and the bit of black furniture that was placed within it.

“Billie,” Zayn began, diverting her attention from the room and back to him. “I, uh, just want to say thanks for bringing me home when I was passed out drunk. I know that must have been a pain in the ass for you to do,” he started. “I also want to say sorry for yelling at you a few weeks ago when you did the same thing. It was wrong of me to be such a dick with you when you were only making sure I was okay. I'm really sorry.”

Billie looked to Zayn in shock, even though she knew it was rather rude of her to do so when he was being so sincere about it. She had to admit that part of her wanted to be a bit smart – to ask who he was and where her asshole of a neighbor had gone to, but she decided against it. There wasn't a need for her to be a bitch (even if there was an urge), and so she nodded her head amicably.

“I...” she could hardly find the words to speak at the moment, still a little surprised from his small speech, “it's fine, Zayn. I know that we have never really gotten along since I first came here, and finding me with you in your bathroom after having knocked out must've been pretty weird to say the least. I can understand that you were pretty upset about it so... it's fine.”

Zayn seemed to breathe a bit easier as she replied to him, and he gave her a small, grateful smile for accepting his apology. “By the way,” he began, “how'd you manage to get me up here this time?”

Before she could open her mouth to speak or even think of something to say, her stomach growled loudly and her hand went to her belly in an attempt to muffle it. Zayn laughed and shook his head, standing up from the bed and stretching a bit, “C'mon, I made some breakfast.”

Zayn headed out of the room and down the hallway, Billie still sitting down upon his bed in a bit of a daze, trying to realize that this was truly happening. Once her thoughts were gathered and she had given herself a light pinch on her thigh, she finally rose from the bed and headed down after Zayn. Noticing her small clutch purse on the living room's coffee table, she picked it up and rummaged through it for her phone, pulling it out to see two newly received texts. One being from Ashley asking if everything was fine and one from Harry.



Billie looked up from her phone to see Zayn standing near the small, circular dining table that was located adjacent to the kitchen, the scruffy looking man pouring two glasses of OJ carefully and setting them down onto the table.



After sending Harry a reply, she quickly joined Zayn at the table, thanking him for the food and soon digging in. It was a simple breakfast of just eggs and toast, but it was nice – the eggs were fluffy and the toast was crispy, but not charred (and tasted greater with enough jam and butter).

“This is good,” Billie commented.

“Thanks; I don't do much cooking for myself so that makes me feel better about it,” Zayn replied with a small smile.

“So you usually eat out then?”

“Mhm,” he nodded with a mouthful of food, “sometimes I go mooch off of Mrs. Fields and she makes me some good food.”

“What would you say she makes best?”

“I like her pot pies best, but she's a great cook all around.”

“Her muffins are good, too.”

He nodded in agreement, wiping his mouth and taking a swig of his orange juice before looking towards her. “So now that your stomach's fed, how did you manage to get me up here?” He questioned curiously.

For a second, Billie felt a little conflicted. Part of her didn't want to bring up the fact that Harry had helped her greatly in bringing him back home – after all, Harry had said that Zayn had been not only avoiding him, but the other guys in their old band as well – and she didn't want to upset him or ruin his good mood with the news that might put a damper on his entire day. Then again, she shouldn't lie to him about it either, especially as it was something that was pretty major for him and because it would – no doubt about it – be on a few tabloids. She had to tell him about it, even if she was nervous about doing so.

She wiped her mouth and took a sip of her drink to wash down the food, preparing herself for what may or may not come. “Um, actually, I had a little help this time around.” He looked to her with attentiveness, waiting for her to continue.

“A few days ago, I met Harry at Mrs. Fields,” hearing his name caused Zayn to stiffen and sit upright in a second, and Billie could see just how uncomfortable he now was. “He told me that he was concerned about you and that he just wanted to make sure that you were doing well since no one had heard from you. He gave me his number in case something might have happened, and when that bar fight started last night, I called him asking for help.”

Zayn didn't dare speak a word as she continued on, his fingers clenching together as they formed two fists. He wasn't quite sure of what to make of the story she was telling him right now.

“After we got kicked out, you vomited in a trashcan and that was when you passed out. Then a photog showed up and tried to get some dirt on you, but he really didn't get much of anything since I didn't tell what had happened. More paparazzi came and then Harry showed up, we got into his car, and he brought us here – that's basically it. I fixed you up a bit before I ended up falling asleep on the couch with you.”

On the outside, Zayn must have appeared to take the news rather well, but on the inside it was another story. He was trying to remain calm and composed, but really he was rather upset that Harry had been there with him – especially when he wasn't at his best. He felt embarrassed to have let him see him like that, ashamed even. Not only that, but Harry had gone out of his way to help him when he needed it, and for him to still treat him so well when Zayn had gone and fucked everything up and made the band break up... he couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt.

However, even though he knew that he was disturbed by the news of Harry having helped him because Billie called him, he was well aware that he shouldn't be agitated with her for it – so he wasn't. Zayn recognized that she only had his well being first and foremost in her thoughts when she had made that call to his old mate, and if he were being honest with himself, things probably could have – and would've – turned out worse, especially if the paps were involved. So for that, Zayn had to admit that he was rather thankful that she had phoned Harry when the fight broke out.

Billie knew that the news of her calling Harry must have been a shock for him and cleared her throat before speaking. “I'm really sorry for calling him, Zayn. I know from Harry that you guys aren't exactly close anymore so... I hope me calling him didn't make you mad or anything.”

“It's... it's fine,” he managed to murmur.

“I also know that this isn't my place since I don't know what happened with you guys or anything, but the guys all still care about you – a lot.” She told him, placing her phone on the table and sliding it over, her display showing him the last recently received text from Styles.

As his eyes skimmed over the message that Harry had sent to her, Zayn almost lost himself to his emotions for a second. The guilt that had always lingered inside him was overwhelming now, but in addition to that, he felt sincerely happy for the first time in a long while to see that they still cared. His brothers were still concerned, and in all honesty, it meant the world.

Still, Zayn couldn't think he could bare to see them yet. So in reply to Billie, he nodded his head in acknowledgment silently and looked down to his plate, beginning to finish off the egg that was still left on it, trying not to show how he was really feeling and trying to make sure he wouldn't be overcome by his up and down emotions. He needed to calm down more before he could try to sort everything out.

After taking back her phone, Billie and Zayn ate in a stuffy silence. When she was finished, she rose from her seat and took her plate and Zayn's to the kitchen sink when she saw he was done as well. As she went to begin washing the dishes, a hand was placed on her shoulder gingerly, Zayn squeezing it reassuringly as he told her, “It's fine, I can do them. Thanks, Billie.”

She looked to him with concern. She had told him a lot in a short amount of time, and she knew he had to have been shocked by it all – there was no way he couldn't be. He had found out Harry had been there for him, and that his friends that he probably thought didn't care about him actually did. That worry of hers made her want to stay with him, to make sure he was really fine, but she knew she couldn't. She had to leave him so he could sort out everything that was going throughout his head.

“Okay,” she nodded, “I'd better get home and get out of these clothes then. Um, thanks for breakfast today, it was good.”

Zayn nodded and gave her a weak smile, replying, “You're welcome.”

As he turned to face his sink to begin washing the dishes, Billie called out to him. “Zayn?”

He slowly turned his head to face her. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for last night. That guy had really started to freak me out when he began to drag me off and just... thanks for getting me away from him. It means a lot to me.”

“It's no problem, Billie. Glad to do it again,” he told her.

She told him bye after sending him a grateful smile, collecting her clutch on the way out and disappearing as she headed towards the door, the sound of it shutting announcing her departure from his home. He stood there in a lonely silence for a few seconds before snapping himself out of his brooding mood, his hand turning on the faucet and beginning to clean up everything.

After everything was taken care of in the kitchen, he flopped atop his couch and reached for the remote on the coffee table, turning on the television and beginning to channel surf, not wanting to hear the resounding silence and opting for static noise instead.

He wasn't quite sure how long he had sat on that couch of his, staring at the T.V. but not really registering anything he was seeing. All he could think about were the guys, the four of his best mates who had been with him for years. He missed them – Liam, Niall, Louis, and Harry, and wondered how they were doing. Were they better off without him or were they just as miserable as he was?

He didn't want it to be the latter, and he at least hoped that they were happy. They deserved that much at least, if not more.

Zayn brought out his phone from his pant pocket, going onto the web and seeing some of the trending articles for the day, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes as he noticed one was about the three of them last night outside the club. His fingers clicked upon the link and once it was loaded, he skimmed the article from some random online tabloid, and he was already growing annoyed after reading the title.



Zayn grimaced as he closed out the article, not wanting to bother reading the rest of the trashy publication. Billie was now brought into this and he was growing worried that if people found out who she was, they would stalk her for information on him or the guys and her student exchange trip would be ruined. Then again, it would be hard to find out who she was as the pictures and video they had provided in the article were, in fact, bad and made her hardly recognizable. He just hoped she wouldn't be put into an awkward position because of all this.

His phone vibrated in his hand with a newly received text, his stomach dropping to the soles of his feet as his contact's name read Harry.



Zayn reread Harry's message once or twice more, letting his words sink in and feeling glad to have made such a friend. While in the past he might have simply ignored a message from him or the other guys, this time, he replied.



Zayn skimmed over their small conversation a second time, his eyes seeming to linger on Harry's advice to keep his neighbor close to him. He had to admit that when Billie had first come into his life, things seemed shaky and rough – especially their hostile relationship, but as he was growing to know her, he could see the good in her and that she meant well. Harry was usually a good judge of character, and knowing that she had his seal of approval was good enough for Zayn.

The male jumped into his shower and washed away the lingering scent of booze that clung to him, his sore, tense muscles from the fight last night relaxing and loosening up in the warm water that doused him. After drying off, he changed into some fresh clothes and brushed his hair for a change before shaving off the bit of stubble that was beginning to grow on his chin. As he assessed himself in the mirror, he clearly noted how he looked better than he had in months.

His feet were then carrying him out the door of his flat and directly to his neighbor's, his hand knocking upon her door with not the slightest bit of hesitation. The door unlocked quietly and opened to reveal Billie to him again. It seemed that she had just gotten out of the shower as well as she stood in new clothes with her wet, stringy hair falling over the front of her baggy t-shirt.

“Zayn?” Billie was confused to see him standing at her door after having just left his apartment. Or rather, she was surprised to see him looking so fresh and clean cut in comparison to how he normally appeared.

“Do you want to know what happened to me and the band?” He asked her, not the slightest bit of uncertainty in his voice over sharing such personal information with her.

If she was being honest, she was taken for a loop. She wasn't expecting for him to come to her asking such a question, most certainly not when it was about something that had to have been very private and life-changing for him and his friends. She wanted to know, but also still wasn't sure if it was her place or not to know. Although, since he was bringing it up and seemed sure about his decision to share it, perhaps he wanted to confide in her and maybe get some of it off his chest?

“I'd like to know if you're willing to share,” she told him.

He smiled, glad that she wanted to hear.

“Then you're going to have to know about me and the band first.”