~Nobody said this would be easy,

Nobody said this would be hard~

Zayn Malik's feet were braced against the side of a building. His hands moved rapidly - left, right, up, down, this way, that way, whichever direction he wanted them too. The music moving through his earbuds kept him focused but tuned out of the real world and plugged into the one he lived when he was being an artist.

His life currently rested in the hands of a harness, connected to the balcony next to where he was spray painting the side of an apartment building. The contraption hadn't been very expensive, which scared Zayn, but so far, his life had been in good hands. Straps, more likely. There was no chance he would return to the climbing shop in the small Virginia town where he lived, since he hoped to be out of there soon anyways.

High school was ending in a couple of months. By now, March, it was just easy coasting to graduation. No doubt about passing classes or walking across that stage at the end of May. There was no way his parents would see it like that, however. Do your homework, Zayn. Don't skip robotics club, Zayn. And then today, since his grades were all above 100% - no missing assignments, nothing out of place in his perfect life - he was allowed to go to the park. He obviously wasn't there, but they didn't have to know that.

The balcony belonged to the Sede family, but the wall belonged to the apartment building. Luckily, it was shielded from people walking by. Not that there were many people walking in this side of town. Zayn knew that graffiti was illegal, but this was his only escape from his cookie cutter life. He liked the strictness of how he had grown up - he knew no other way, but he just needed a vice. And a chance to be a rebellious teenager, which he was doing here, after the Sede's son - Johnny, let him in.

But it's not like Johnny Sede or his family were going to mind. His parents were safely off at work until five, and Johnny was out smoking weed at the park with the rest of the skaters. It seemed like everyone in Virginia publicly led the lives that their parents intended for them, but behind the scenes, everything was different. Teenagers often led double lives - a stereotype, yes, but one of the few that are actually correct.

Johnny and Zayn knew each other from the robotics team, and the two of them used each other as excuses a lot to be able to do what they really wanted to do. Now, Zayn was in the zone. Truly at bliss after a long and hard Wednesday at school. And there was at least an hour or so until he had to be down off of this wall and back in his room, studying, according to his parents. For now he lost himself in his music and art, and occasionally thought the dreadful thoughts about college and financial aid.

His strokes with the spray paint grew careful, as he felt one of the cans becoming empty. They were the most precious commodity that he owned - a gift from his parents. They thought he was always at the park with the cans, where everyone else graffitied. But that wasn't any fun. And besides, there was no empty space. It was better to be somewhere where few people would ever see his art, and where he would never get in trouble. Zayn hated getting in trouble more than anything else - he lived to please people. Mostly his parents.

A sharp ping from his phone interrupted his music and caused him to drop the yellow spray paint, which he was in the middle of using. The ping meant that a text message had come in. And the only people who texted him were his parents or sister. Or it could have meant that his mom was tracking his location once again, and then he would be in serious trouble. It only took a moment for Zayn to place the rest of his bottles back into the satchel currently on top of his chest. He placed his foot on the corner of the balcony and dug his phone out of the front pocket.

And it wasn't a text. The notification was an email. From the MIT admissions office.

Heart racing, he rubbed his hand on his jeans to get the spray paint off of them before he unlocked his phone and clicked on the email. I'm not going to be upset, he said, closing his eyes as the content of the email loaded.

But his thoughts were in vain. "Congratulations, Mr. Malik..." There was nothing to do but scream in delight.

After twirling in the harness for a moment, Zayn untied himself from the balcony, climbed over the railing, and walked back through the Sede household. Perfect and pristine, despite not expecting company. Johnny and Zayn lived very similar lives on the opposite ends of town, it seemed. He was careful not to show any evidence that he had been through - and then he locked the door, just as his friend had told him to.

Then Zayn ran to get his yellow spray paint and sprint the rest of the way home. His parents would be so happy - he just had to tell them as soon as he could. And by the time he was entering the side yard, his lungs were shredded, but he still remembered to place his satchel and harness under his window before heading inside. He could lean out and get it later, but his parents didn't like to see any of that stuff, so he tried to make them happy.

Standing just feet in front of the door, Zayn squirmed and re-read the best email he had ever received. Then he put a genuine smile on his face and threw open the door, where his old life was beginning to end. Soon he'd be out of Virginia. Forever.