50

                                    

                                          
The tour continued at full throttle, city after city, performance after performance, and each night, Alex felt herself being swept away by the sheer energy of the crowds. The cheers, the screams, the fans all singing along—it was like nothing else in the world. She was alive in a way she never had been before, each night reinforcing why she fell in love with music in the first place. The stage had become her second home, and the boys had become her family. Every backstage moment, every song, every laugh shared between them made her feel connected to something far greater than herself.
But despite the wild rush of it all, there was something weighing on her. Zayn's distance had become more pronounced with each passing day. The connection they all shared seemed strained, and though everyone noticed it, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that Zayn was slowly pulling away. It was as if the once-brilliant spark he had was flickering, like a candle struggling against the wind. She hated it, but no one seemed to know how to fix it.
One day during a soundcheck, when everything around them was still and quiet, Alex caught sight of Zayn standing alone by the side of the stage. He wasn't rehearsing or fiddling with his mic. Instead, he was staring out into the empty seats, his expression unreadable, his shoulders tense. The sight of him so lost in thought made Alex's chest tighten.
She walked over to him, her boots making soft thuds on the stage as she approached. "Oi, mate, you look like you're solving world problems over here," she said with a playful grin, hoping to break the thick silence that had settled around him.
Zayn turned his head slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a small, faint smile. But it didn't reach his eyes, not quite. "Just thinking," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.
"Anything I can help with?" she asked, leaning against a nearby speaker, still trying to keep things light, though her heart thudded in her chest with worry.
Zayn's eyes flickered away, as if he wasn't sure how to answer her. After a long pause, he sighed and shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder if this is... everything, you know? If this is all we're meant to do."
Alex blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected that. "Zayn, mate, this is amazing. We've worked our arses off for this. And it's because of all of us, together. We're doing something big here," she said, her voice softening. She wasn't just trying to cheer him up, though. She meant it. She knew what they had together—what they were all building—and she hated to see him question it.
Zayn gave her a small, almost defeated nod, but his eyes were still distant. "Yeah. Maybe," he said. His voice trailed off, and she could tell his mind was somewhere else entirely. The words he was saying didn't feel like they were coming from the person she knew.
As Alex stood there, watching him, she felt an ache in her chest. She wished she knew what to say to make it better, to remind him of the magic they had on stage, to help him feel grounded again. But she couldn't find the right words, and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth.
Zayn let out a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair before looking back at her, his eyes dark and full of something she couldn't quite name. "It's hard to explain, Alex. It's not about any of you, it's just... sometimes I feel like I'm losing myself. Like I'm losing the person I was before all this."
The weight of his words hit her like a punch to the gut. She couldn't quite process it all, but she knew it was serious. This wasn't just a phase, a momentary lapse. Something was happening to Zayn, and she didn't know how to reach him.
"Zayn," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're one of the most grounded people I know. You've been through more than anyone, and you're still standing strong. You're part of this band, mate, whether you see it or not. The fans... they adore you. Hell, we all do. We need you here. You don't have to be everything all at once. Just... don't disappear on us."
His eyes softened for a moment, and he gave her a sad, almost bitter smile. "I know. And I care about all of you too. That's what makes it so hard." His words trailed off again, and the silence between them was deafening.
Before Alex could say anything else, the sound technician's voice crackled through the speakers, calling them back to the stage for a final check. Zayn hesitated, his gaze flickering towards the stage, and then he pushed himself off the wall. He gave her one last, fleeting look before walking away, his shoulders slumped, his movements slower than usual. The same familiar Zayn she'd known for years was slipping further from her grasp, and all Alex could do was watch.
She stayed there for a moment, staring at where he had stood, the heavy feeling in her chest refusing to go away. His words hung in the air, echoing in her mind. Losing himself. Losing who he was. What did that mean? And what could she do to stop it?
The rest of the day passed in a blur, and despite the high-energy show later that night, Alex couldn't shake the worry gnawing at her. On stage, she threw herself into the music, giving it everything she had, but even as the crowd screamed their approval and the lights flashed in a dazzling array of colours, she couldn't ignore the feeling that something was wrong. Something deeper than the usual stresses of tour life. It was Zayn—he was slipping, and she didn't know how to catch him before he fell.
Later, as they were packing up for the next city, Alex found herself walking down the quiet hall of the arena, her mind racing. She caught sight of Zayn again, standing by the exit with his jacket pulled tight around him, his hands jammed in his pockets. He looked small in that moment, smaller than usual, and it broke her heart.
"Oi, Zayn," she called, approaching him carefully. "You sure you're all right, mate?"
He looked at her for a moment, his gaze flicking between her and the door like he was debating whether to say something or just walk away. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping further. "Yeah. I'll be fine," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
"Just don't bottle it up, yeah?" Alex said, a note of pleading creeping into her voice. "We're all here for you. Don't shut us out. You know you can talk to me."
Zayn's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a second, Alex thought he might say something. But he didn't. Instead, he simply nodded, his eyes flickering away from her once again.
"Cheers, Alex. I'm just... figuring things out, alright?"
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Alex standing alone, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She couldn't make him open up. All she could do was wait, hoping that one day, Zayn would realise that they weren't just a band—they were a family. And families didn't let each other go so easily.
But for now, all she could do was hope. And that hope felt like it was slipping through her fingers with every passing day.