Zayn pivots slightly to the right, smile wide and tight, hand around the waist of his latest Arm Candy. Zayn shakes his head with an amused smile, inwardly impressed at the business savvy—and pure balls—scalping a party like this for potential clients requires. One of them in particular anyway. He knew it would be a hit among the fans, particularly the ones of a certain elk who can see the obviousness in it. Looks like more than one of his bodyguards will be getting some tonight.
Alaina. Age: 31.
Further down the alley a scantily clad bloke dressed in a crop top and jeans so ripped they might as well just be shorts eyes him curiously.
Kaylee. Age: 21.
See, that’s what the app is perfect for.
The distant sounds of jazz and blues drift out from the late-night clubs, neon signs sparkle against the twilight sky, men whistle and whoop and catcall, and women giggle and sashay down the streets in their sparkly dresses. Or, in his particular case, an employee. Further down the alley a scantily clad bloke dressed in a crop top and jeans so ripped they might as well just be shorts eyes him curiously. It was a strange but fascinating wonder to hear their voices while still miles away, but more importantly it was just nice to be able to even talk to them again after so long even if it was rather faraway and tinny-sounding, like yelling at each other through a windy cave.