"Oh no no no, I can't take it
Oh no no no, I won't break your heart again 
I don't wanna be a monster among men..."

__

At four-thirty, Calum sits on the edge of Kezie's bed in her flat and watches her pull the teeth of a blow-dryer through her hair. Steam is rising from the machine as she pulls the heat through her thick, curly hair and he watches the coils expand and straighten.

He's slipping into his shoes—it was almost time for him to head out anyway—because his tuxedo was already waiting for him in the hotel where he and the rest of the groomsmen would get ready before the wedding.

It was New Year's Eve.

Louis was getting married.

And the thought truly hits him at this moment.

Louis was getting married.

How often had they joked while in uni about this? About who would be first? About who would never settle down? About who would be the dad with the beer belly chasing after kids?

Shit.

And here he was, getting ready for one of the biggest days of his mate's life—like this. This was supposed to be huge, so why had so much shit surrounded it? There should have been more celebration. There should have been more shenanigans. More fun like they used to have.

And he looks at Kezie, the corner of his lips lifting gently into an easy smile. How many nights had he spent dreaming of her; dreaming of her giving him a chance. How many nights had he kept himself awake daydreaming about what it would feel like to finally have her to himself?

She was it for him.

The thought nearly makes him laugh. Who would have ever guess that Calum and Chikezie would one day grow into Calum and Chikezie—mates from boarding school that would grow into...

"Cal?"

He blinks, watching her frown from the bathroom, her hand on the hips of the matching nude lace underwear she had been so excited to find in her shade.

She was so cute. 

"Don't be late, love."

"I won't," he replies, watching now as she unplugs the blow-dryer and parts her blown-out hair into sections.

She reaches for her flat-iron below the sink.

"You look so lost and dreamy over there," she giggles.

He laughs—he loved that little giggle. "I won't be late, Kez," he pushes himself from her bed. "I'm not Luke."

"Luke is definitely," she nods, watching steam rise from the flat-iron, "always late as shit."

"Like, has anything changed?"

"Nope," she sings, that long, thick hair falling straight down her back. "Shrinkage," she'd told him before. "And I don't think it ever will—Cal!"

"What?" He whines because he's in the bathroom, now, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"What do you mean, what? Sheesh, mate," she laughs, "don't have me burn you."

He kisses her cheek. "'Kay," he replies softly.

She looked naked in her nude underwear.

He likes that; so hot.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Kezie nearly laughs. "What's going on? Why're you whispering over my should—"

"Sorry," he says. "I'm—" Because now he's thinking about before and Louis and his future-wife and Phoenix. "I'm sorry, Kez. I'm sorry about being so unsupportive and just, not a good friend. I'm sorry I—"

"Hate everything about Phoenix? From me to the patrons to the other strippers in it?"

"Whoa, whoa," he replies quickly. "I absolutely never said I hated you—"

Her eyes are hard, "Did you have to?"

"Kez, I..." He shakes his head. "I'm really so sorry I made you feel that way."

She's silent.

"Really," he rubs her arms again. "Really. I don't hate your friends. I do not hate you. I don't even hate Phoenix. I..." He sighs.

"Where, honestly, is this coming from?"

Good question.

And Calum is silent, thinking. He's thinking about so many things. For starters, he's thinking about them. He's thinking of their friendship. He's thinking of the little girl he'd met ages ago in school. He's thinking of the woman she's become. He's thinking about the progression of his friendship with Lou. He's thinking about how he might feel if the tables had been turned, if the roles had been reversed.

Because after that confession of feelings at Hyde Park, he and Kezie had been trying. They'd been working on growing their relationship from nothing to something. They'd admitted their feelings for the other and Calum was really gone for this girl. He'd had feelings since he was fifteen and now was just admitting them nearly ten years later.

But, no relationship was perfect. No relationship was ever perfect. And he thought about how much work he and Kezie had to put into their own to even get here; and all of a sudden he's thinking about what might've happened if Lou had never gone into that club for him. All of a sudden, he's thinking that Lou meeting Blaire was actually his fault. And all of a sudden, he couldn't imagine his mates not showing up to his own wedding.

Not over something stupid.

Kind of like...like this.

Kind of like Phoenix.

Kezie just worked there. She worked there. She just worked there, he told himself often, over and over, on the nights he stayed waiting up for her just to come in and have homework to do. She just worked there, he said to himself on nights he stayed over and woke up the morning after to find she never made it into bed; that she had fallen asleep on top of books at her table or on the couch. She just worked there, he said again and again when her schedule got dense and she fell asleep, mid-story, on his chest.

Why all of this is hitting him at once, he doesn't even know. He's standing in her bathroom with her readying for a wedding—and he's thinking about them. He's thinking about her; thinking about the woman he'd probably loved since he was a stupid kid; thinking about the little girl who had always been so driven; thinking about how there's really no way she'd put herself through all of this if she didn't have to.

"I don't know how you do it, Kez," he says. "Really. The way you work a damn-near full-time job at night and go to school and still manage to see your friends and...and still fuck around with me—"

She snorts.

He shakes his head. "You're incredible. And I don't say that enough. You're a fucking superwoman," he rubs her arms, "A fucking beautiful badass and..."

And he's always known it.

Always.

But the voice of fear is loud in his head. Had been, anyway. Since the night he'd run into her; since that first time post-grad when they'd hooked up...Emotion and love and all that shit had come back and hit him so hard and then he'd found out about Phoenix.

It's not like he hadn't heard what went on in a strip club.

The rumors, the stories...He figured she had to have found a rapper or baller or someone out of his tax bracket.

"Can't be insecure if your woman's a stripper."

Lou's words.

He remembers them very clearly. It was that conversation that had sparked him asking, "Check on her for me."

And that's when Louis had walked inside a single man and had come out of Phoenix with Blaire.

Now, here he was.

Fucking around about to be late to their wedding.

"I..." He stares at her through the mirror, "I think I've been chasing this moment since school."

"Calum," she shakes her head, eyebrows pinching, "what? You're so random today, love."

"I know," he nods. And his eye flicker to the clock beside her bed. "We can talk about it later."

She giggles her signature little giggle, "Okay."

He's grinning. And he brings a hand from her waist to cup her jaw in his hand, turning her head towards him, "See you tonight, okay?"

She nods, surprised. "Okay."

"Okay," he says, and he dips his head, kissing her lips—and he pauses. His face is centimeters away from hers and she's kind of like, what the hell is with this man?

She's seconds from voicing her confusion. "Are you o—"

"I love you," he blurts, and he kisses her again before she can speak, "I'm sorry for being an asshole. I guess I am an asshole," he chuckles. "Thank you for putting up with me. You're incredible; you're my best friend and I've had feelings for you since forever, I..." He shakes his head.

He kisses her one last time.

"I just really fucking love you."

Tonight was going to be great.

Asmaa could feel it.

She's getting ready in Rory's closet; doing her makeup at her vanity as she hears the commotion of her friends and her sister as they too get dressed and ready for the wedding.

Rory's turned her music on throughout the house, so it's really feeling like a party.

She's gone out and gotten her hair done—bangs, and she's feeling super cute as she ties her hijab and knots it below her ear. She dons a deep red lipstick to match the silk-wrapped Ted Baker maxi dress she'd just bought that hugged all of her curves and made her feel...

"Sexy mama," Rory hums in approval, as she strides into her closet, fresh-faced in matching lace underwear from her shower.  "Zayn's gonna eat you up when he sees you," she winks, "before he eats you out."

Asmaa smirks with a laugh, "Harry teach you that phrase? Or did you teach him?"

Rory throws her head back, screaming with laughter. "Wouldn't know. Don't care. He's not my man."

"Yet."

Rory is silent as she reaches for her own makeup.

She doesn't look up, or at Asmaa at all, but she makes Asmaa squeal excitedly as she replies in agreement, "Yet."

Yeah, tonight was going to be a good night.

Asmaa just felt, loved.

Like, it was a whole celebration of friendship and growth and love and new beginnings. It was New Year's Eve for crying out loud. How incredible was it that Asmaa was able to ring in this new year with her sister and her man and all of her new friends?

This was her family. Actually. This was her new London family who had taken her in when she had nothing and shown her so much love and support and she just.

Ugh, she was so happy.

And she's ready first, so as she waits for her Lira and Rory, and Ayat to finish, she sits on her couch, texting.

Asmaa was talking to Zayn again—obviously—and she could lie to no one, not even herself, that she was really in deep for this man and she was actually glad that he was serious enough about her to fight for them.

No matter how wrong and delusional he was.

But, Asmaa felt good because her man promised her he'd apologize to her friend and Asmaa was happy about that. She felt like the tides were turning in her favor. She felt like she was righting past wrongs with her relationships with both Zayn and Blaire.

She was so excited about this wedding.

Asmaa had never been to a British/Caribbean fusion wedding before. She had truthfully only been to one wedding before in her entire life, and she and Ayat had been children.

I look so good tonight it's silly  ;)x

Zayn chuckles to himself as he watches the incoming texts light up his phone from the counter. His mates are all spread out throughout the hotel room, readying for the night. There's champagne in a cooler and they're getting ready to make a toast; getting ready to prep Louis for his big night.

It was almost time.

Pics or it didn't happen

He chuckles, shaking his head.

Zayn was so glad Asmaa was no longer mad at him. He was so glad they had started talking again. He was so glad to have her in his life. He just...she just made his day.

It was really that simple.

"Really? Selfies?"

Zayn turns to see Harry standing smugly, leaning against the doorway in his black tuxedo pants.

"You and Asmaa sexting now?"

"You wish."

"I've literally walked in on the two of you having sex," Harry retorts, to which Zayn laughs, embarrassed.

"It wasn't sex."

"Oh, excuse me. You're right. No sex, but your tongue was up her—"

"Alright, alright, alright."

"Thank you," Harry shakes into his shirt, rolling his eyes. "It wasn't sex..." He scoffs. "Alright, Zayn. Whatever you say, mate."

"Please never mention this in front of her."

"I mean, I'm sure she's heard me and Rory go at it once or twice."

"Which is entirely different."

"I dunno, Zayn," his eyes sparkle with mirth. "Walls are thin. We can be pre-tty loud..."

Zayn laughs aloud and Harry joins.

And, Zayn pauses.

At this moment, Zayn stands in the silence and stops. Like, what a fucking moment. Here he was, laughing—enjoying himself—on the night of one of his best friend's wedding.

Louis was getting married tonight.

Tonight.

Like, right now.

New Year's Eve.

And the magnitude of this moment hits him all at once. Zayn can hear Harry's laughter and all of a sudden now there's Asmaa's voice in his head.

At once he grabs his phone and rushes into the main room.

"The fuck, Zayn," Luke looks up from struggling with his own cufflinks, "That's for Lou—"

"Meet me in his room," Zayn says, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the cooler.

"But he's coming—"

"Ten minutes, Luke. Tell the others."

"Uh..." Calum waltzes into the room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder. "What the fuck's going on?"

"Zayn's gone mental," Harry chuckles confusedly, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, buttoning the buttons on his shirt. "What the hell did you sniff?"

"Come."

"Who, me?" Harry laughs, watching Zayn hurry to the door connecting both rooms. "Wha--?"

"Hazza, c'mon."

"Me?"

"For fuck's sake, mate! Yes! You."

"Ok, ok, but I'm not even dressed, really—Zayn..!"

Harry's got no choice but to stumble after his friend, who's got a literal hold on his wrist and is dragging him into the room next to them.

"Fuck're we doing in here?"

Zayn closes the door behind them, lifting the champagne eye-level, champagne glasses clinking against the bottle.

"Honestly, Haz," he sighs, something we should've done a fucking long time ago."

"Fucking hell—" Harry groans, rolling his head on his heck, groaning loudly. "Zayn."

"C'mon, Harry!"

"You couldn'tve run this shit by me before you dragged me half-dressed into the—"

"Zayn?" Louis steps from his own suite's bathroom. "Harry?" He chuckles, taking in their appearance.

And the champagne.

"Shouldn't you both be dressed before we toast?"

Zayn waves him off. "Remember," he starts, "that time in uni when we got so drunk after a party, I fell asleep eating at the pub?"

Louis laughs immediately. "Hazza was drunker than you, mate. Could barely stand--"

"Hey, hey! Why's this got to be about me, now?"

"Isn't it always about you, Haz?"

"No!"

"Yes," Zayn snorts, to which Louis bursts into laughter. He's tying his bowtie in the mirror, when Lou catches Zayn shaking his head in the reflection.

"By the way," Lou smiles at his friends, "You both clean up nice."

"Couldn't show up in a jumper for my mate's wedding."

"Not as my groomsmen," Lou chuckles.

"Would be improper, wouldn't it."

"Remember that time..." Louis begins to laugh, softly now as they finish helping Louis with cuflinks, they finish straightening Harry's shirt, they help the other tidy up for the ceremony, "Remember that time on our way to that match in Manchester when we'd gotten so high before we got on the bus—"

"Of course."

"I literally," Harry sighs, "literally thought you'd both be kicked off the team."

"We were so high."

"Niall video'd the whole thing, the prick."

The men laugh.

"Y'know...that's one of the things I thought of most," Louis admits. "That's one of the memories that stood out to me; that I hoped you remembered before I asked you to do this, y'know...and be my best man."

"Lou, about that--"

"Blaire actually's the reason you're here."

"She...what?"

"She told me to ask you. Told me to swallow my pride and ask you. Said I'd regret it the rest of my life if I didn't say anything to you guys--"

"Well," Zayn interrupts, clapping his hands together, "I'm dating one of her friends."

"Shit, Zayn..."

"What?"

"Asmaa," he nods. "Who you met at the party? At dinner?"

"The lawyer?"

Zayn laughs, "Something like that," he shakes his head. "More than that, honestly. Because she also works at Phoenix," his cheeks tinge pink. "She's a stripper, too."

"And," Harry groans, throwing up his hands, "since this is a fucking honesty hour," he rolls his eyes, "I'm..." His hand flies to the back of his neck, "I guess I'm...seeing—I mean, I dunno what you call it, but..."

"He's sleeping"  Zayn blurts, "with Rory."

"Za—" Harry catches himself, nodding at once. "I'm...Yeah, I'm sleeping with Blaire's friend," he admits. And he kind of chuckles, laughing a bit at the thought of her and the weirdness of this situation, "Her name's Rory."

"And," Louis folds his arms, "lemme get this straight; she's also a stripper? At Phoenix?"

"Y—Yeah," Harry stutters. "Pretty much."

"Y'know," Louis replies calmly, "I should be pissed at you. Both of you."

"In Rory's defense," Harry adds quickly, "she isn't just a stripper at Phoenix, she's—"

"She's Asmaa's roommate," chimes Zayn.

"But, she's more than that," Harry adds defensively. "She's not just a stripper. It was all she could find for work when she moved here—she's from America. And she's getting her Master's. Like, wants to be an engineer, alright? She doesn't just strip."

"Essentially," Zayn clasps his hands, pointing up at his friend, "he's fallen in love with her."

And Louis sucks his teeth, "Sex'll do that to you."

"I'm not," Harry shakes his head, "I don't..."

"Don't know what you want, or don't know what to say to me?" 

"I honestly," Harry shakes his head, "honestly never thought I'd have the chance to say any of these things to you. Not...not like, as...maybe as...?"

"Mates?" Louis asks. "Mates who couldn't find one nice thing to say about my fiancée when—"

"When after barely a year you decide to up and marry her?" Harry implores. "I mean, please! Please think about how you'dve felt if I'd gone off and done something like that! Or Zayn! Or Cal, or Luke!"

"Think about how you'd feel if I couldn't find a fucking single kind thing to say about Rory if you'd fallen in love as I did."

That silences the room. 

"Look," there's space between the men as Louis takes a step back, as eyes find the floor...as words resonate. "Look, I get where you lot came from. You were just trying to protect me, and I know. S'what Blaire said to me, anyway.

"But," he continues, "I know what I'm doing. This woman, I love her. I can't imagine life without her to be fair. She's," he shakes his head, "she's my fiancée for fuck's sake."

"Your wife," Zayn clarifies.

"Huh?"

"I mean," he shrugs, tugging lightly on his bottom lip, "at this point she's really like, your wife, isn't she?" He chuckles, dusting off his pants, "Better get used to saying it, honestly."

"Or," Harry snorts, "if she's any bit like her friend Rory," he grins softly, "you'll be sleeping on the couch for sure."

Louis stares between his friends, eyebrows pinched. His expression changes rapidly; he's frowning but now his eyes are wide; he fights a grin. 

"Seems like the two must be loads alike."

And the men burst into laughter. 

It's almost as if a bubble has burst; like the breath they'd all been holding has been released; like...

They straighten shirts and fix ties and laugh. They laugh together. They're reminiscing and talking loudly. 

Luke sticks his head in the room. 

"Shut the fuck up, would you?"

Louis waves him in. "Get the fuck in here would you?"

"And," Louis adds at once, no longer laughing as Luke retreats to grab the others, "just for the record," he shakes his head, "neither did Blaire."

Zayn and Harry stare between themselves. 

"Huh?"

"She didn't...?"

"'Just strip,'" he replies, raising his hands to add quotations. "She didn't either. And she's taught me so much, so much about money and growing it and...and she hated that club. Hated it."

Louis sucks his teeth, staring off at the window. "I mean, the stories she's got...You know, I met her 'cause I bought a dance with her?" He chuckles, "Went in there for Calum—thought I could ask her a few questions or whatever, and I thought 'Bunny' was Chikezie's stripper name, not hers.

"I dunno, we ended up talking though. I guess she needed to vent that night, because she didn't even like, get naked," he laughs. "She spent most of the time complaining about Phoenix."

Zayn's mind skips to Asmaa. 

"And," Louis shakes his head, "And she said if it weren't for her friends, she'd have left ages ago. But it was paying her bills, and most people don't realize that it definitely doesn't pay as many bills as you'd think it does, 'cause their manager, Justin or something, well, he charged booth rent for all the girls, and they damn near had to fight to get him to lower it, and he was too touchy and stared too long and was often innappropriate with them all and she said if she could never step foot in that place again she wouldn't.

"I just liked her, though. I liked her accent. And I liked her attitude. And I told her, and she laughed at me, but she said I was easy to talk to. And so, I asked her; I won't forget. I asked her what it would take her to leave, to walk out and not come back. And you know what she said? She said the ability to build her life into what she's dreamed of; to have enough money to invest in herself and others and give back to the people who loved her, who had helped her get to The UK in the first place."

Louis smiles into his champagne. "So, I said, come build with me," he looks between his friends, "and I never expected her to take me up on that," he laughs. "But, honestly?" He nods, "I knew she was the one because she was crazy enough to believe she could."

"You know," Zayn shakes his head, "you've never told us..." he pauses, "You never told us this."

"Until now," he chuckles, "I'd never thought in a million years you lot would give me much of a chance."

"Not going to lie, Ror," whispers Asmaa as the ceremony begins on the rooftop of the The Shangri-la Hotel at The Shard, "your man cleans up nice."

"So does yours," Rory whispers back, liking that as he stood at the front of the ceremony, Harry had purposefully caught her eye and shot her a wink, a smile playing on his face.

Asmaa leans to her sister, sat on her other side, now.

"See the blonde?" She whispers.

"The Best Man?"

Asmaa hums softly. "That's Zayn."

"He's cute."

"He's my boyfriend."

Ayat nearly chokes. "Bring him home," Ayat whispers, "and mummy won't let him leave."

Asmaa fights laughter. She's been craving this without knowing.

Can't be mad at the only chick in your corner.

And Rory was right, Asmaa is realizing. She's been so right this whole time. Ayat needed to know about her lifestyle because she was her sister and she'd stood by her throughout their entire lives. She's never been judgemental and, she's realizing, without Ayat sharing that she'd run back into Lira, Asmaa would have never met Rory. She'd have never met Chikezie and Desirée and Blaire. 

She'd have never been invited to Phoenix.

She just had to tell Ayat. 

____

Broke this chapter up into two because it's long! Sorry yall. I meant to have this up by NYE but...yeah, that didn't happen. More updates coming soon!