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Description
Zayn walked out into the crisp, cold Bradford air. It had been a full year since he had left the pop band One Direction. He didn't like the hate he and his bandmates were getting, so he decided to quit. He remembered the hype and disappointment from the fans in him when he came out and told the world he quit. Shortly after Zayn had quit, the band had decided to all go their separate ways. Zayn remembered hearing on the news that One Direction had split up. Nobody knows where they all are now, and not to be rude, Zayn could care less. But he did walk around his neighborhood and remember all the good times he shared with Louis, Niall, Harry and Liam. He would walk around the block and think about the X-Factor and the stairs and the concerts and the fans. But he loved being home and also, he left 1D for a reason. Everyone knew him here. He was home in Bradford. The lads would often send him letters, asking him how he was doing. After his morning walk, Zayn slipped back into his relitively clean apartment complex. He headed to the living room and sat in his deluxe recliner chair, with his TV in front of it. His eyes made their way not to the TV screen, but to the framed picture of him and the lads, sitting on the table, next to the chair Zayn was in. Zayn picked it up and shed a tiny tear but wiped it quickly, as if someone would walk in and see, though Zayn lived alone. Zayn felt a clot in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Zayn started to sweat uncontrolably. It was 63 degrees in Bradford. "What? Why am I sweating?" Zayn asked out loud to himself. He dropped the picture on the rug and rushed to the bathroom. Zayn bent over into the toilet and vomitted. "Oh my god." Zayn gasped, before throwing up again. When he was done, he looking into the mirror, above the sink. His face was red and a little darker. He was sweating and panting. He put his left hand on his face. "What is wrong with me?" Zayn asked himself. He left the bathroom because it felt like he was done. Zayn suddenly got very tired. "Why am I so tire---" Zayn was cut short by his yawn. He made his way to his bedroom and plopped down on his bed. "Something is wrong with me, I just don't know wha--" Zayn was silenced by another yawn, and then he drifted off to sleep.

Description
Zayn walked out into the crisp, cold Bradford air. It had been a full year since he had left the pop band One Direction. He didn't like the hate he and his bandmates were getting, so he decided to quit. He remembered the hype and disappointment from the fans in him when he came out and told the world he quit. Shortly after Zayn had quit, the band had decided to all go their separate ways. Zayn remembered hearing on the news that One Direction had split up. Nobody knows where they all are now, and not to be rude, Zayn could care less. But he did walk around his neighborhood and remember all the good times he shared with Louis, Niall, Harry and Liam. He would walk around the block and think about the X-Factor and the stairs and the concerts and the fans. But he loved being home and also, he left 1D for a reason. Everyone knew him here. He was home in Bradford. The lads would often send him letters, asking him how he was doing. After his morning walk, Zayn slipped back into his relitively clean apartment complex. He headed to the living room and sat in his deluxe recliner chair, with his TV in front of it. His eyes made their way not to the TV screen, but to the framed picture of him and the lads, sitting on the table, next to the chair Zayn was in. Zayn picked it up and shed a tiny tear but wiped it quickly, as if someone would walk in and see, though Zayn lived alone. Zayn felt a clot in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Zayn started to sweat uncontrolably. It was 63 degrees in Bradford. "What? Why am I sweating?" Zayn asked out loud to himself. He dropped the picture on the rug and rushed to the bathroom. Zayn bent over into the toilet and vomitted. "Oh my god." Zayn gasped, before throwing up again. When he was done, he looking into the mirror, above the sink. His face was red and a little darker. He was sweating and panting. He put his left hand on his face. "What is wrong with me?" Zayn asked himself. He left the bathroom because it felt like he was done. Zayn suddenly got very tired. "Why am I so tire---" Zayn was cut short by his yawn. He made his way to his bedroom and plopped down on his bed. "Something is wrong with me, I just don't know wha--" Zayn was silenced by another yawn, and then he drifted off to sleep.