My day is only getting worse.

My meds might as well be non-existent at this point, as I feel no different than I would if I didn't take them. In fact, I feel worse.

I'm just so sick of this world. So sick of waking up and wishing I hadn't. I knew when I was prescribed this medication that it wouldn't fix me. I've gotten used to the idea that it will always be this way. My depression is part of me now. It's an imbalance in my brain, and there's nothing I can do about that.

I can talk it to death in therapy and pretend like these drugs are helping me, but how long will that be enough?

I've been in bed since three in the afternoon, letting the darkness of my room comfort me while One Tree Hill plays on my TV. It's always been my comfort show. Luckily I got through my classes for the day before throwing myself in bed with cookies and a box of tissues.

Jordyn knows something is wrong, but she also knows not to bother me with questions when I feel this way.

Jordyn is a happy person. She always has been, so she doesn't really know how to deal with me sometimes. The reason Jor and I work so well is because of our differences. Her bright and shiny combats my dark and dreary, and somehow it works perfectly.

As if she knows I am thinking of her, she knocks. "Come in," I mumble, pausing my show as she slowly opens the door.

"Hi, Scar," she says quietly, looking at me with a smile as she sits on the edge of my bed.

"Hi, Jor," I greet, mimicking her smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I sigh, sitting up against my headboard. "Are you going out?"

Her long braids are tied into a half-up, half-down ponytail, and her makeup is done. Her dark red lip complementing her dark skin tone. She's in black leather pants that hug her hips and a red lace crop top with fabric only covering her boobs.

"Yes. Do you want to come with me? It's at Riley's frat. He invited you." Riley, Jordyn's boyfriend, is always getting into some trouble at that damn frat house.

"No thanks. I think I'm gonna stay in tonight. You look hot as hell, though." Her frown from my rejection of going to the party turns into a bright, signature Jordyn smile as I compliment her.

She stands up and gives me a twirl. "Thanks, baby. Give the braids some appreciation because they're coming out tomorrow."

I laugh and dramatically kiss her head. "Goodbye, braids." We laugh, and Jordyn asks me one final time to join her, but I politely decline. I am really enjoying the idea of a hot bath and the apartment to myself.

"Okay, well, I am staying at Riley's tonight, so don't wait up. I love you." She gives me a quick hug, kisses my cheek, and rushes out the door.

Once I hear the front door slam, I let myself break down for a bit, sobbing as I scribble my thoughts into my journal. If anyone ever read anything in this journal, I'd probably be sent to the nearest mental hospital.

After crying for what felt like hours, I rub my eyes and take something for the headache my crying has caused.

I deserve a self-care night, honestly.

I start running a warm bath, filling it with bubbles and a bath bomb I have been saving since the holidays. I carry my laptop in and set up a makeshift table with my laundry basket to continue my binge-watching.

I play around with the bubbles and relax, leaning my head against the wall and letting the water hug my body comfortingly. The feel of the water on my skin reminds me of last night with Zayn, and I can't help but miss his company.

We've been texting a bit, but something must've come up because he hasn't answered in a couple of hours. I never get too hung up on the whole texting thing. I deleted most of my social media after my freshman year of college simply because of the toxicity. Sitting and staring at my screen, waiting for some random frat boy to respond to me, only made me despise my phone.

My head is still pounding once I hop out of the bath. It's nearly midnight by the time I get back into bed. I'm ready to sleep, but I know lying here will do me no good. My puffy eyes and bed-head hair can not be seen in public, so I decided on binging all of The Hunger Games movies.

Movies, shows, and books let me escape from this world for a little bit. My therapist says it's a way for me to disconnect. She used a different word, but hell, if I remember. Dr. Sweeny also said my memory has become selective. I've blocked out a lot of my life, but I didn't even realize it until Dr. Sweeny explained it to me.

It's hard not really having anyone that understands me. Jordyn tries, but she's never experienced anything even close to depression in her life. Of course, she has struggles, as we all do, but she's never gotten to this point, and I envy the hell out of her.

My mom tries to comfort me or give some comforting advice, but she always ends up crying, saying it's her fault that I am the way I am. It only ends up making me feel worse, so I stopped talking to her about my emotions. As far as she knows, my antidepressants are the best thing to ever happen to me.

Jordyn's not my only friend, but she's the only one that's gotten to know me beyond the surface. I like it that way. I don't want too many people getting attached to me. I never planned on being here long, so I avoided making strong connections.

I'm nearly done with the first movie (and my second bowl of popcorn) when my phone buzzes on the table.

I see Zayn's name appear, making my eyes widen. I cough and try to clear my voice from the fog of my sadness.

"Hello?" I answer softly.

I hear him let out a loud breath. "Scarlett. Can I see you?"

Does he want to see me now? Right now? As in, Scarlett in PJ's with hair that could be mistaken as a pile of sticks, now? Well, fuck.

Before I can answer, he starts humming into the phone. "Zayn, are you okay?"

He halts his humming, and I hear him sniff. "No. Yes. No-yes? No. Nope. Not okay. Not at all. Not even gonna lie." He slurs. I can hardly make out what he is saying, but luckily I've had plenty of experience deciphering drunk people talk.

"You can't drive, Zayn. Where are you?" I ask, getting up and turning off my movie. I rush into my room and change into jeans and an oversized hoodie.

"I have a license, you know," he mumbles. I can hear the smirk in his voice, picturing his perfect face.

I sigh, shaking my head and grabbing my keys. "You're drunk, Zayn. Please do not drive. Where are you?"

He chuckles. All I can hear is the wind and his distant laughs as if his phone is down by his hips now. "I am on top of the world."

On top of the world? What the hell does that mean?

I get into my car and remain calm. "Zayn, I need you to tell me where you are. An address or anything that will help me get to you."

"Can you hurry?" I can hear the pain in his voice. He's drunk, and his voice sounds as if he has a cold, probably due to crying. "I'm on a cliff. Hike."

"You took a hike in the middle of the night?"

"Not willingly. Whiskey," he groans. I hear glass shattering before his loud voice screams into the phone. "Hurry!"

"Zayn, I need to know what cliff you're on."

"Big one," he laughs, resulting in an eye roll from me. I hear shuffling before he says, "I sent you my location."

Sure enough, his text comes through, and I see he is only five minutes away. He's not on a cliff; he's in a field of some kind.

I drive to him and keep him on the phone, even though he is no longer talking. All I can hear is him laughing and humming nonstop.

As I'm driving, I see a tall man spinning around in the darkness. I pull over on the side of the road and rush out of my car to get to him before he makes himself puke from all the spinning.

We're in a large field, no one around other than a few houses in the distance. I've never seen such a spacious area in California, but somehow a drunk Zayn wandered here.

"Zayn!" I shout, waving as I speed walk towards him.

The dark sky blankets us, preventing me from seeing anything other than his silhouette. As I get closer, I see the tears reflecting off the moonlight and my heartaches.

"Zayn?" I say again, sounding more like a question. I grab his hand, he looks at me and smiles, a big smile showing all his teeth. The pain behind his eyes shows his true emotions, though.

"Scarlett! I wanted to see you," he squeezes my hand. "How'd you find me?"

"You called me, Zayn," I answer, slowly walking towards my car with his hand in mine, forcing him to follow me. I'm scared if I ask him to get in the car, he'll run off and make me chase him. Jordyn did that to me once. In the middle of campus. That was a very interesting night.

He shakes his head. "I didn't call you," he slurs and looks at the phone in his hand, my name on the screen while our call is still going. "Oh. I called you."

I laugh with a nod as we get to my car. "I'll take you home." I open the passenger side door, but he shakes his head aggressively.

"No. Home is alone." Alone.

I don't have time to answer before he turns to me and looks deeply into my eyes. "Stay."

I fight the urge to smile, butterflies erupting in my stomach. "Okay, I'll stay. Get in the car."

I would've loved to lay in this field and watch the stars, but I'm terrified of whatever animals or creepy people are lingering in the nearby woods, not to mention Zayn's inebriated state. I shove Zayn's large drunk self into my car and drive off.

"Where are we going?" He asks, his head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

"My apartment," I answer. He looks so sad. His eyes are wet from his previous tears, and his hair is a ruffled mess, curls flying in all directions.

We don't say anything the rest of the drive, the only sound coming from the radio. I never expected to take a drunk man to my apartment at the start of this day. The whole day I thought of him and what it'd feel like to have a hug from him again. I didn't expect that he'd be the one needing the hug more than me.

We pull into my parking complex, and I notice Zayn staring blankly at his hands in his lap. He looks like a statue, and I'm honestly scared to disrupt him.

"Ready to go in?" I ask after a few seconds of staring. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes reach my own again. Those hypnotizing green orbs hold so much emotion that I have to look away.

"Yes."

We get out of the car, and Zayn nearly falls as we climb the steps to my apartment complex. I grab his arm and put it around my shoulders to help hold him up.

"You're strong," he mumbles, wrapping his hand around my arm tightly.

Damn, he's really drunk. And heavy.

Once we make it to my apartment, Zayn practically dives onto my couch with a grunt, and I rush to get him some water.

I sit next to him and help him sit up, placing the water in his hand. He doesn't seem to be the giddy, distracted drunk he was earlier. Now he's quiet and sad, his eyes focusing on nothing at all.

"How much did you drink tonight?" I question.

He sips his water and stares at the blank white walls of my apartment. "Not enough," is his mumbled response.

I sigh. "Are you okay?" I try to get him to look at me, but his head stays stiff.

"No," he answers honestly. He doesn't move his head, but his hand finds mine again and holds it tightly. "I'm tired."

"I'll grab you some blankets. You can sleep here tonight." I move to get up, but he pulls on my hand, shaking his head and finally looking at me again.

"Not yet."

So we sat there for a few minutes, his large hand covering my small one. He smells of liquor and cologne, but I don't mind. He could smell like a landfill, and I'd still sit here and console him for as long as he needs.

I don't ask him what's wrong, and I don't press him to open up to me. I let him sit on my couch, eventually wrapping his arm around me and leaning us back into the couch. I turn on the TV and we watch whatever random sitcom pops up.

Zayn laughs at the characters, but I'm hardly paying attention. I'm too focused on the way my head rests on his chest and his arm around my waist.

Zayn confuses me on a celestial level. I met him in a coffee shop on an overly ordinary night, and now he's invaded my mind. Everything about him seemed too good to be true. I never would've expected to see him in this much pain. He's just a guy, yet he is so much more.

He reminds me of the stars: a speck of sparkle surrounded by endless darkness. And I want to learn everything about him.

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Happy Sunday! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait to dive deeper into these two and their story. Please let me know your thoughts/predictions/theories!

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