Zayn sets the menus in front of the two old women who completely ignore Zayn when he does, too busy gossiping about Nancy from church to notice him.

Zayn walks away from the table, ignoring his other employees and keeping his head down.

He walks back up to the counter to the front of the store to man the counter as people enter. He greets them, asks how many, then brings them over to a table before giving them their menus.

This is the worst job Zayn could have while working here because he actually has to be cheery. Happy. He is never happy.

Zach looks up at the entrance, watching as several students walk in, making him quirk up an eyebrow. Great.

Zach internally groan, cursing to himself. They're from his music class.

Good thing there's only two, meek old ladies right now or they'd lose a lot of business with a bunch of loud ass young adults.

"Its Zayn, my man!" Daniel exclaims, his Puerto Rican accent thick. Zayn would like his voice if it wasn't always in a mission to mock him, knowing he won't fight back because he's quiet. "Mis amigos y yo quiremos un mesa por favor." He grins.

Taking Spanish for three years prior to this and hating it, Zayn nods. At least he wasn't insulting him.

"How many?"

"Five." A girl answers, Daniel swinging an arm around her shoulders, Zayn almost laughs when she quickly pushes him off but he keeps a straight face and grabs five menus.

Zach only visually sees four, but maybe someone will be coming in a little later.

He leads them to a table, far away from the old women. They would probably instantly start complaining anyway.

Zayn knows for a fact that no one else from school works here, his co-workers are mostly from a bunch of different colleges in the area, mostly graduate than undergrad. So, Zayn is really the youngest person working here which he likes.

This is just ruining his day.

He hears their loud laughing and talking as he walks back to the counter, crouching down so he can get a pad and pen from underneath.

He hears the entrance open. He stands quickly, accidentally dropping the pen, making him sigh heavily in frustration and he bends down to retrieve it before standing and looking front of him to see a smirking Harry standing in front of him.

"Shit." He whispers, looking down.

"Where's my table, sir?" Harry asks, looking at Zayn with an emotion in his eyes he can't decipher. Zayn will just assume he's being smug.

Zayn turns around stiffly, assuming Harry is following behind him to the table filled with other people he doesn't care for.

He stops at the table, turning around as Harry walks past him.

"Harry!" Several of his friends exclaim. Zayn almost roll his eyes. Just like him to be the person everyone apprehensively is waiting for.

When Harry sits down, Zayn flips to a blank page on the pad.

"What do you want?" Zayn sighs , holding the top of the pen against the paper.

"Wow, the customer service is very good en here." Daniel says sarcastically, making all his friends laugh, even Harry laughs. But Zayn didn't really expect any less from him. He wouldn't be surprised if they all laughed about the mental breakdown he had yesterday.

Zayn turns around, refusing to be made fun of at the only place he isn't and walks into the kitchen.

"Joey." Zayn says, walking up to an older gentleman from Haiti. The man looks up at him with kind eyes. He only speaks a little bit of English and Zayn likes him. Zayn hands him the pen and pad. "Table six." Zayn says.

Joey nods before quickly leaving the kitchen, relieving Zayn of his unwanted duties.

LATER

Zayn rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, feeling how tired he is after six hours of work.

He walks to his car, the parking lot empty because he had to lock up today, just like every other night he works.

When Zayn reaches his car he notices two tire locks on his wheels, making his heart drop. He furrows his brows,running a hand through his hair. "What the fuck!" He exclaims, kicking at the lock. Who did this? Why? He's parked legally.

Zayn takes out his phone, seeing its at five percent.

Great, it's midnight, he's stuck in the middle of a deserted parking lot at night with no way of getting away because his car is locked down and he has the arm strength of a three year old. He's basically a sitting duck waiting to get shot and eaten for dinner.

Zayn looks up the nearest car place, seeing none around that gives twenty four hour service.

He'll just have to take the bus then.

Zayn turns, knowing the nearest bus stop is about a mile from here which isn't too bad of a walk. He sticks his phone in his pocket before rubbing his hands up and down his upper arms.

It's freezing outside, at least twenty degrees.

Zayn sighs heavily, seeing his hot breath in the cold air.

He can't believe this is happening.

It's really just his luck.

Then Zayn feels a rain drop hit his shoulder, making his eyes widen. He looks up into the dark sky, seeing rain drops begin to fall from the grey clouds. If it rains, he's going to get hypothermia no doubt. He can't go on if it starts raining hard.

So Zayn begins to run. Running a mile has never been easy for Zayn, but now he's determined.

He could call Liam or Niall, but is it really worth it to bother them this late at night? They're probably sleeping and Zayn would feel guilty for waking them when Liam especially is so strict on getting up early.

As the rain gets harder and harder, Zayn doesn't really care anymore about anyone else's well being but his own as selfish as that sounds. Isn't that just human nature? He gets over it.

The man looks around, seeing no buildings but just road and trees.

So Zayn runs underneath a large tree, shivering relentlessly.

He takes out his phone, it's at two percent now.

He better call before it dies.

Zayn searches through his contacts, his eyes switching from the contacts to the percentage. He sees Liam's name first so he taps on it quickly, closing his eyes as he puts the phone to his ear.

Zayn looks up when he hears a car stop. Through the rain and fog, he sees it's a large, black car. The driver steps out and seems to run around, out appearing ...Harry Styles?

"Zayn!" He exclaims, running up to him through the endless rain. "Thank God I found you." He says, joining Zayn underneath the tree.

Zayn looks at Harry, his heart racing and his veins pulsing as he slowly realizes what Harry is talking about.

Zayn slowly takes the phone away from his ear. His blood is boiling as he ends the call. Liam probably wasn't going to answer the call anyway.

"What?" Zayn snaps, his voice quiet at first. He sticks his phone back into his pocket.

Harry looks at him, his eyes wide with concern and mouth slightly open, looking as if he wants to say something but not sure what to say.

"I'm so sorry." He says.

"You did that?" Zayn asks. "To my car?"

Harry visibly thickly swallows, looking nervous as Zayn glares him down into the ground. If his eyes were pistols, Harry would be dead.

"N-no. It wasn't me. It was Daniel, I told him not to-"

"It was your posse, Harry! Your friends! Why'd you even come to that specific restaurant?" Zayn snaps. "What's your fucking problem with me?" He yells.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Zayn laughs bitterly, obviously frightening Harry a bit. "Is that all you could say? Sorry?" He chuckles. "Pathetic." Zayn says, staring back into his emerald eyes.

Harry frowns.

Zayn backs off a bit, not liking the look on the man opposite of him.

So Zayn looks away and at the wet grass.

"I'll take you back to the dorms." Harry says. "In my car."

Zayn looks up at him. He looks stoic.

Zayn swallows thickly. "No. It's fine." Zayn says, he doesn't deserve a ride anyway.

"Well...I'm forcing you. How else are you getting back?"

Zayn looks at his phone to see it turning off, dead. And it's pouring rain in below thirty two degree weather. He either goes with Harry, hitchhikes another ride, or sleeps here for the night and walks to the bus stop in the morning.

"Okay." Zayn says quietly.

Harry turns around, running back to the drivers seat and Zayn runs to the passengers seat, not wanting to sit beside Harry to make it awkward but making the quick decision to just do it and stop being so petty.

Zayn is shivering, but he instantly feels the warm air hit him in the car.

He watches as Harry's ring adorned fingers turn up thr ac, blasting more warm air so Zayn can defrost. He wouldn't be surprised if icicles were hanging off his eye lashes.

Then Harry begins to drive, the sound of the a.c. blasting making up for the silence that is bound to be awkward.

Zayn catches a glance at Harry, watching him concentrate on the road, his eyebrows furrowed as he holds both hands on the wheel.

"I'm sorry too." Zayn says. "For being so mean to you...for no reason." Zayn says.

Harry glances at Zayn looking at him.

"I guess I was um..." Zayn trails off. "Jelous." He mumbles.

Harry nods slowly.

"But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did."

"I understand."

"And we're not friends." Zayn says, looking away from him and out the window.

"So what are we?" Harry asks.

Zayn shrugs. "Whatever you want it to be, but my relationship with you doesn't matter to me."

"Well..." Harry trails off. "It doesn't matter to me either if it doesn't matter to you."

"Okay, then why are we talking about it?" Zayn snaps.

"Are you okay, Zayn?" Harry asks.

Zayn looks at the man. "Why the hell wouldn't I be? Besides the fact my car was locked down, I had to walk in the rain, my phone died and now I'm in this car with you."

"No, I mean. Really. Are you okay?" Harry asks. "You seem miserable, like, all the time." He says.

Zayn rolls his eyes, looking away again.

"And there we go, rolling your eyes, sighing, frowning. Your going to have wrinkles before your thirty Zayn."

"Whatever." Zayn sighs.

"There's a sigh." Harry chuckles lightly.

Zayn frowns deeper, leaning more into the window to ignore his surroundings and the person driving the car.

"Do I make you this angry? Is my presence that revolting?"

"No." Zayn says, his features softening slightly. "Its not even you." He sighs. "Its me."

"What?"

"I do this to myself." Zayn says.

"What do you mean? You make yourself hate me?"

"No." Zayn snaps. "That's not what I mean." He says, looking at Harry again. Harry is looking back at him, making him realize they're at a stop light, almost at the building.

The way the red light shines over his face gives his features a dark, intimidating look. Zayn feels small looking at him. He hugs himself tighter.

Zayn swallows thickly. Why is he even talking to Harry? He could easily tell his friends everything and use it against him. He has to build up his walls again.

"Did you tell your friends about how I freaked out last night?" Zayn chuckles lightly and bitterly, looking away again.

"No. Why would I do that?"

"It was probably pretty funny." Zayn says. "Seeing me, the calmest person ever freaking out like that. Like, having a mental break down."

"There's no reason to tell anyone about that." Harry says.

"But it was-"

"It wasn't funny." Harry adds. And Zayn looks at him, wanting to know if he's serious. By the expression on his face, he looks it. It shocks Zayn. "I was worried after you left." Harry admits.

Zayn furrows his brows. "No you weren't."

"How do you know how I feel?"

Harry starts driving again.

"I don't but no one except Liam really knows or cares about me. You hardly know me. And the only side you do know of me is my bitchy side."

"That doesn't mean I don't observe." Harry says. "I've been in your classes for four years. If you don't speak and just watch, you can learn a lot about a person."

"So what are you saying?" Zayn questions, quirking up an eyebrow.

"I know that you get nervous when a lot of people fill a room." Harry says. "Your really passionate about your music, a perfectionist really."

"So, your basically a stalker." Zayn says.

Harry chuckles. "I never followed you. I just see you in my classes silly." He says, smiling slightly. "And the only reason I did notice you was because you seemed to hate me and always hide in the shadows as you did. Or tried to hide." Harry says.

Zayn looks down at his lap. He feels so much warmer. He cuddles into the leather seat, softly laying his head back but keeping his eyes open. He would be embarrassed that he's so obvious, but right now, he doesn't really. It's just the least of his worries.

"I noticed you took a liking to Gigi." He says.

Zayn shrugs. "Whatever, you can have her. I don't care." Zayn says.

"I don't want her."

"Why? She's gorgeous."

"Because I don't like girls." Harry admits and Zayn looks at him again. Harry glances at him and away from the road, that usual smirk covering his lips. "Shocking?"

"I don't know." Zayn says. "I never really thought about it."

Harry nods slowly.

"Why'd you kiss her then? That morning in the coffee shop."

"It was just a peck on the cheek." Harry shrugs.

"I saw lips."

"Well, there wasn't any." Harry shrugs.

Zayn doesn't respond, really not caring anymore. He doesn't really like anyone at the moment.

He feels the car stop, looking out the windshield to see the dorm rooms. They both get out the car and walk towards the entrance. Zayn is walking a little faster than Harry, Harry is only slightly trailing behind him.

"Hey." Harry says when they enter. Zayn walks over to the stair case, looking back at Harry and working up an eyebrow. Harry smiles. "You don't hate me, right?"

Zayn shrugs, looking back in front of him so he doesn't trip on a step. "I think you can answer that." He says quietly.

"Let me make it up to you. I'll take you to get your car back tomorrow morning. I'll even call Daniel tonight so he could get them off now."

"Why didn't you do that before?" Zayn snaps, stopping at the rip of the steps and turning around to look at the man. "You thought it was funny, that's why. You wanted me to suffer."

"Zayn, you know,...you don't know me either. So just stop assuming." Harry says, calm tempered and level headed with his arms crossed against his chest and a smirk playing on his lips.

"Sometimes it's just hard to believe you." Zayn says, turning around, just wanting to get back to his dorm because of how tired he is.

He walks quickly down the hall, glad Harry isn't following him, and he makes it into his room to step in quietly.