Young & Beautiful

And that was definitely a compliment and Zayn was definitely beaming proudly beside him and so
Louis squeaked out a pleased, “Of course, sir, thank you,” before Zayn whisked him away for
pasta and wine.
And since then, it’s been ‘Zayn Malik,’ ‘Zayn Malilk,’ ‘Zayn Malik.’
Of course, it doesn’t help that his mother’s just signed on to star in yet another “Lord of the
Rings” film (where do they keep coming from??) bringing further attention to all that is Zayn
Malik and his impressive lineage. Hoards of hygienically sound trust funders thirsty for ‘fame’
cluster around him at parties because of it, spewing forth jovial invitations to their spring homes
and their banquets and their ‘this’s and their ‘that’s. They shout greetings to him as he passes in
the courtyard or in the halls, they snapchat his photo whenever he’s not looking, they’ll stare at
him wide-eyed, caught between reverence and judgment and…
And, to be quite frank, Louis doesn’t give a fuck about any of it. And neither does Zayn.
Because his near celebrity status is something felt by the outside only—not by those near to him—
and Zayn barely bats an eye at the influxes of attention and uninvited praise. He smirks at
pleasantries and breathes smoke through introductions and slithers around the masses of designer
clothes silently because it’s Zayn. Louis watches him, watches as he strides through the hallways
undeterred as the whispered rumors and accolades follow his every move.
It’s borderline frustrating, but. At least Zayn’s got Liam at his side through it all. Liam, who has
started this term off with flying colors, playing the happy husband to Zayn. Like a guardian angel
he deters unwanted attention away from him seamlessly, is always there when the people are too
much, is always making charming conversation with those whom Zayn knows nothing about.
When girls or boys alike become a bit too hands-on or a bit too there, Liam will whisk up, out of
nowhere, brandishing his photogenic smile and crisp linen shirt, his hand outstretched and waiting
politely to be shook.
“Liam Payne,” he’ll say earnestly, as if he cares for the person at all, planting a firm arm around
Zayn’s waist. “Williams, right? Don’t I know your father?”
And the conversation will steer in a completely different direction as Zayn admires him through
half-lidded eyes and a fond smirk, Liam never removing his arm, never removing himself from his
side, and always filling the awkward pauses with a laugh or a polite inquiry.
It’s very sweet, really.
And Louis admires that simple way that Liam just looks after Zayn in these times, how he’s
always present and making everything look so effortless and fun with his neat sentences and
polished smile.
Liam himself is also having a successful beginning of term because, of course, he’s an absolute
star student at the school. He’s in just about every club and organization and extracurricular
known to man—Khan must adore him, really—and he walks around as if untouched, always
clean and always fresh looking, striding around in his football jersey straight from the practice
field or in his waistcoat if he’s returning from the Student Union or his robes if he’s just had dinner
with professors. His stress levels are manageable enough, as it is only the beginning of term, but
there are times when Louis thinks, perhaps, Liam does live life a bit…intensely. And maybe it’s
just because Louis hadn’t known Liam at the beginning of last term—not really—so maybe it’s
just an age-old tradition of his to start the year with a bang but… Liam lives hard sometimes.
Namely when they’re out.