DEVOTED TO YOU

Liam paced in front of Louis, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "You had one job, Louis. ONE!" he snapped, his voice low but furious. Louis sighed, rubbing his temples. "What else was I supposed to do, Liam. He called me, and I~And you what?" Liam cut him off, eyes narrowing. "You knew how he’d react! You knew this would happen! And yet, you just went ahead and spilled everything?" Louis threw his hands up. "I didn’t spill anything! He was already panicking, Liam. was I just supposed to lie?~YES!" Liam nearly shouted. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "At least until we knew how to handle it. But no, now Zayn’s dragging him off to-God knows what kind of disaster!" Louis frowned, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes. "I didn’t think it would go this far." Liam let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It’s Harry, Louis. When does anything ever go normal with him?" Louis stayed silent, knowing Liam was right.

The family remained at the hospital, unaware of Zayn’s whereabouts. The tension in the waiting room was thick, but no one suspected anything unusual-yet. Liam was still fuming at Louis, pacing back and forth. "I told you not to call Harry! And now look-he stormed in here, caused chaos, and ran off with Zayn! What the hell were you thinking?" Louis huffed, crossing his arms. "Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have just let him sit at home thinking Namjoon ditched him?!"

Before Liam could argue back, Seokjin, who had been sitting silently by Namjoon’s bed, suddenly spoke up. "Has anyone heard from Zayn?" His voice was oddly tense. Liam stopped pacing. "No... not since he left." Yeon’s eyes narrowed. "He took Harry with him. That alone is concerning."."Should we call him?" Rang asked hesitantly. Gong scoffed "You really think he’ll answer? He is drinking somewhere"  Seokjin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "We should at least try. This is Zayn we’re talking about-he doesn’t just leave like this." Louis pulled out his phone and dialed, but after a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. "He’s not picking up," Louis muttered, brows furrowing. Liam tried next. No answer.

Taehyung sighed, setting his phone down as Yoongi handed him a cup of coffee. "What did he say? Is Thamma (grandmother) okay?" Yoongi asked, watching him closely. Taehyung nodded, taking a small sip. "Yeah. Hong-pi checked her blood pressure and gave her medicine. She’s sleeping now. Thyme and Kavin finally got Shaan to sleep-he was crying for Joon da." Yoongi hummed in acknowledgment, but his gaze lingered on Taehyung. He could tell Taehyung’s mind wasn’t just on their grandmother or Namjoon. There was something else weighing on him "Don't think too much. Zayn da will come back soon. He's more responsible than anyone gives him credit for," Yoongi assured, though even he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Taehyung let out a frustrated sigh, fingers tapping against his cup. "I just don’t understand.... where could he have gone with that boy?" Yoongi patted Taehyung’s back, offering silent reassurance, but deep down, he was anything but calm. He knew Zayn better than most-had witnessed his temper up close more times than he could count. And no matter how relaxed he tried to appear on the outside, inside, he was spiraling, dreading the possibilities of what Zayn might have done.

Gong paced back and forth in front of the hospital building, his hands clenched behind his back, his mind restless. Yeol had initially wanted to wait with him, but Gong had gently dismissed him, knowing his younger brother had more pressing matters to handle with Namjoon. Right now, Zayn’s whereabouts were a mystery, and that was enough to keep Gong’s nerves on edge "You have a tendency to catch a cold, Gong. Don’t stand out here for too long," Yeon said softly from behind him. Gong turned sharply, his eyes flashing with barely contained frustration. “Don’t start with me, Yeon,” he warned, his voice tight. His anger wasn’t truly directed at his husband, but at the situation-the uncertainty, the recklessness of his son, and the complete lack of answers.

Yeon, however, remained calm, stepping closer. “I’m not here to start anything,” he said gently. “But standing in the cold won’t bring Zayn back any faster.” Gong exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. “Then where the hell is he, Yeon? Where did he take that boy?” His voice wavered slightly, frustration giving way to worry.

Namjoon still wasn’t sleeping, stubbornly refusing to take any medication. His mind was restless-filled with worry for Zayn, for Harry, and for Seokjin, who sat nearby, anxiously fidgeting with his phone. "Jinnie, eat something, please, love. We’re all worried about Zayn here," Namjoon said gently, extending his hand to take Seokjin’s. Seokjin’s fingers trembled slightly in Namjoon’s grasp, his eyes still fixed on his phone screen. He exhaled shakily but didn’t pull away. Seokjin sighed, finally lowering his phone, his grip tightening around Namjoon’s hand. "It’s not like him, Joon. He wouldn’t just disappear like this... not when he knows you’re here." Namjoon nodded, his expression calm despite the storm brewing inside him. "I know. That’s why we have to trust him."

Seokjin looked away, swallowing hard. "I just wish he'd answer.... just once." Namjoon gave his hand another squeeze. "We’ll find out soon, Jinnie. He’ll come back." But even as he said it, a nagging uncertainty lingered in the air between them.

But underneath his composed exterior, Namjoon was also freaking out. His chest felt tight, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Given his history with panic attacks, he knew he had to keep himself calm-but it wasn’t easy. Because knowing Harry, he would have called a thousand times by now, begging to see Namjoon, demanding answers, refusing to be kept away. But there was nothing. No calls. No texts. And that silence was more terrifying than anything else.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, his body still trembling, unable to calm down. "To the Kali temple," Zayn replied, his tone casual, almost indifferent- as if this wasn’t the most life-altering moment of their lives. "We’re getting married." Harry's breath hitched as he tightened his grip around Zayn’s waist, the roar of the motorcycle vibrating beneath them. His mind was spinning as fast as the city lights that blurred past them. "Married?" he echoed, barely above a whisper, his voice lost in the wind. "Yes, married," Zayn repeated, his grip firm on the handlebars as he sped through the empty streets. His tone left no room for argument.

Harry swallowed hard. His heart was still hammering in his chest-not just from the fight, not just from Zayn dragging him away, but from the sheer weight of what was happening. He had spent so long fighting for Namjoon, so long believing that love meant chasing after someone who refused to choose him. But now, here he was, riding on the back of Zayn Malik's bike, on the way to a temple, about to marry a man who wasn’t Namjoon. A man who didn’t even love him, hell they don't even know each other.

The cool night air whipped against his skin, his tears drying against the wind. He rested his forehead lightly against Zayn's back, his mind an absolute mess. "Why are you doing this?" he finally asked, his voice shaky. Zayn didn’t answer right away. He just kept driving, his posture stiff, his grip on the throttle a little too tight. "Because you need someone to put an end to this madness," he said at last, his voice low but unwavering.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "And you think marrying me is the solution?" "You need a fresh start," Zayn said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "And so do I."

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. But as the temple came into view, its grand entrance glowing under the soft light of the lanterns, he realized one thing-whether he was ready or not, his life was about to change forever.

The motorcycle came to a slow stop just outside the Kali temple, its towering structure standing against the dark sky. The scent of incense and marigolds filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of rain on stone. Harry hesitated, still seated on the bike, his fingers gripping Zayn’s jacket as reality set in. This was real. Zayn swung his leg over the bike and turned to face him. “Get down,” he said, his voice calm, controlled. Harry’s legs felt weak as he climbed off, his hands lingering at his sides as he glanced at the temple steps. “This isn’t how I thought my wedding would be,” he muttered. Zayn scoffed. “What did you imagine? A grand hall? A hundred guests?” He turned, his eyes dark under the temple lights. “This is what you get. Me, you, and the goddess as our witness." Harry bit his lip, his heart still pounding, but something about Zayn’s words settled in his chest. There was no room for fantasy here, no illusions of love or romance. This was raw, real. Maybe even cruel. Zayn took his wrist and pulled him toward the temple. The priests were still present, offering prayers as the night deepened. A few devotees glanced their way, but Zayn paid them no mind. He walked straight to the priest, his grip on Harry’s wrist firm. “We need to get married. Now.”

The priest blinked in surprise, glancing between them. “A marriage at this hour? Do you have families present? Witnesses?~They’re not needed,” Zayn replied, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

"My two friends will be here soon with the necessary clothes. You start gathering the other essentials," Zayn said, pulling out his phone and wallet. "I’ll make sure you’re well compensated." The temple priest, an elderly man draped in saffron dhoti, studied Zayn for a moment before nodding. "Very well. But a wedding is not something to be rushed. Are you certain about this, child?" Zayn’s jaw tightened, his grip on his wallet firm. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life." Harry, standing slightly behind him, swallowed hard. His hands trembled as he clutched his arms, his mind still spinning from everything that had happened. Before Harry could say anything else, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the temple. Zayn’s friends, Kinn and Hosek, rushed in, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You really weren’t kidding," Kinn muttered, handing Zayn a carefully wrapped set of wedding attire. Hoseok smirked. "Of course he wasn’t. When does Zayn ever joke about something like this?" 

Niall, Hoseok's husband and one of Zayn's friend stepped out of the car, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto Zayn. Hoseok let out a sigh as he caught Zayn’s narrowed eyes. "You really think he’d just sit at home and wait after hearing you’re getting married?" Hoseok said, almost in defense. Niall crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered between Zayn and Harry. "So, is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" 

Zayn sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I don’t have time for this," he muttered before turning to Harry, thrusting a bundle of clothes into his hands.

"There’s a place nearby where you can change. Do it quickly," Zayn instructed, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument.

Harry swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the fabric Zayn had given him. His mind was still spinning, struggling to grasp the reality of what was happening. Just hours ago, he had been fighting for Namjoon, convinced that his love was unwavering. Now, he was standing in front of a temple, about to marry Zayn Malik. He glanced at Niall, Hoseok and Kinn, who were watching him with unreadable expressions. Harry took a shaky breath, then turned toward the small changing area Zayn had pointed out. His feet felt heavy, his heart pounding in his chest. He hesitated at the doorway before stepping inside. The dimly lit space smelled of incense and aged wood. His hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the traditional Bengali wedding attire~ an white dhoti with golden border and an ivory kurta with intricate red and gold embroidery. Outside, Zayn ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the temple. He had never imagined his wedding would happen like this- rushed, unplanned, and fueled by frustration. But a part of him felt oddly at peace with it. Kinn leaned against the temple steps, arms crossed. "You sure about this?" Zayn’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed ahead. "I don’t have time for doubts." Hoseok exhaled sharply. "Then let’s get this over with. Go you change as well" 

Niall’s gaze remained fixed on the spot where Harry had disappeared. The thought of Zayn marrying his own brother’s obsessive ex-boyfriend was beyond comprehension. What sane person would do something like this? Then again, Zayn was never exactly the definition of sane. Letting out a sigh, Niall shook his head and made his way toward the changing area where Harry had gone. Meanwhile, Hoseok followed Zayn to help him put on the dhoti, and Kinn was with the priest, making the final arrangements for the ceremony. 

Harry stood in the small changing area, staring at the intricate fabric in his hands with wide, unsure eyes. He bit his lip, turning the cloth this way and that, completely lost on how to wear it. Niall stepped inside, pausing when he saw Harry’s confused expression. With a sigh, he rolled up his sleeves. Great. He really has no clue. "Come on, let me help," Niall said, taking the fabric from Harry’s hands. Harry blinked up at him, his nervousness flickering into something softer-grateful, even. "Really? Thank you... I don’t really know how to do this." Niall just nodded, motioning for Harry to stand still. "Yeah, I figured." As Niall carefully adjusted the fabric, wrapping it around Harry properly, he noticed how still the younger man had become. Harry wasn’t fidgeting anymore~he was just watching, his big green eyes full of quiet curiosity. "You’ve never worn anything like this before, have you?" Niall asked, securing the drape. Harry shook his head, his fingers lightly grazing the embroidery. "No... but it’s beautiful." His voice was soft, almost in awe. Niall hummed. At least he appreciates it. He stepped back, giving Harry a quick once-over. "There. You’re done." Harry glanced down at himself, smoothing his hands over the fabric. Then, looking back at Niall, he gave a small, shy smile."Thank you, Mr. Really." Niall hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah...  just don’t make me regret helping you. And am Niall" 

Zayn adjusted the pleats of his dhoti as Hoseok helped secure the waistband properly. "I still don’t get why you’re doing this," Hoseok muttered, carefully tucking the fabric. "You don’t have to," Zayn replied, his voice calm but firm. He grabbed the kurta Hoseok handed him and slipped it on. Hoseok huffed. "Marriage isn’t a joke, Zayn. Especially not to someone like~" Zayn shot him a sharp look, cutting him off. "I know exactly what I’m doing." Hoseok sighed, stepping back as Zayn adjusted his sleeves. "Fine. Just... don’t expect me to pretend this makes sense."

Zayn smirked, running a hand through his hair. "I never do."

Porsche, Kinn's fiancé, had just arrived at the temple, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he fixed Kinn with a hard stare. His jaw was set, and his expression was anything but pleased. "You didn’t think to tell me about this?" Porsche’s voice was sharp, laced with clear frustration. Kinn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t have time. Everything happened so fast, and I~ You had time to tell Hoseok," Porsche cut in, his eyes narrowing. "But not me? I had to know from Niall, thank god he is a friend of mine too" Kinn exhaled, knowing there was no easy way out of this. "Look, I was handling things. It’s not like I planned for Zayn to suddenly decide to get married in the middle of the night." Porsche huffed, shaking his head as he looked past Kinn toward where the ceremony was being prepared. "This is insane," he muttered. "Even for Zayn."

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

A thin red dupatta draped over Harry’s head, its sheer fabric soft against his skin. He stood beside Zayn, still processing everything, the weight of the sindoor on his forehead feeling heavier than it should. The temple bells had long since stopped ringing, but their echoes still thrummed in his ears.
Around his wrists sat a set of bangles-white and red. He turned them slightly, watching how the colors contrasted against his skin. Zayn had told him their name. "Sakha Pola," Zayn had murmured, his fingers brushing against Harry’s wrist as he played with those bangles anxiously. "They mean you’re married now."Married. The word settled in his chest like a stone. Zayn, standing beside him in his wedding attire, was quiet, his expression unreadable. His grip was firm yet steady as he led Harry toward the exit of the temple. The night air was cool against his warm skin, but Harry barely noticed. Everything had changed.

"So where are you going now?" Zayn barely spared Porsche a glance as he adjusted the sleeves of his kurta, looking completely unbothered. "That’s none of your business," he muttered, his tone flat. Porsche scoffed, crossing his arms. "None of my business? You disappeared, got married without telling your family, and now you're dragging him off somewhere in the middle of the night. Yeah, totally not my business." Harry shifted uncomfortably beside Zayn, still overwhelmed, his fingers brushing over the Sakha Pola on his wrists. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know where they were going. Zayn finally looked at Porsche, his jaw tightening. "We’re leaving~Leaving where?" Kinn cut in, arms crossed like his fiancé. Zayn’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "You’ll know when you need to." With that, he grabbed Harry’s wrist and started walking toward his bike.

"Hold on, hold on" Niall stood in front of them arching brows " Zayn sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t in the mood for another round of questioning, but he also wasn’t about to start a fight with Niall. "It's kind of getting late and colder," Harry murmured softly, pulling the red dupatta closer around himself, rubbing his forearms for warmth. His voice was quieter than before, almost hesitant. Niall glanced at him, then back at Zayn with a pointed look. "That’s exactly why I’m asking where you’re taking him. You just got married, and no one even knows about it yet. Are you seriously planning to just disappear into the night?"
Zayn exhaled, his grip on Harry’s wrist loosening slightly, though he didn’t let go. "We’re going to a hotel," he admitted, his tone calmer now. "Just for the night." Niall narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue immediately. Porsche, however, clicked his tongue. "You sure about this? Running off before facing the family?" Zayn met his gaze steadily. "They’ll find out soon enough. But not tonight." Niall sighed, rubbing his temple before stepping aside. "Fine. But take care of him, alright?" Zayn nodded once, then gently guided Harry toward his bike.

"Take a cab Zayn, how are you supposed to ride it wearing a dhoti?" Hoseok asked shaking his head, but Zayn smirked "Bro I ride this baby the entire way in Namjoon's borjatri also wearing dhoti" Hoseok let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temple. "That doesn't make it any less of a bad idea, you idiot." Harry blinked up at Zayn, still holding the edges of his dupatta tightly. "Borjatri?" he asked softly. Zayn glanced at him, then smirked. "The groom’s wedding procession. When Namjoona got married, We all rode our bikes the whole way, wearing a dhoti just like this." Harry’s lips parted slightly in surprise, his gaze flickering between Zayn and the bike. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be impressed or concerned. Porsche rolled his eyes. "And that somehow makes it a good idea now?" Zayn chuckled, swinging a leg over the bike with practiced ease. He turned toward Harry, extending a hand. "Come on. I’m not letting you out of my sight now."Harry hesitated for a second before placing his hand in Zayn’s. With gentle but firm insistence, Zayn pulled him onto the bike, adjusting the dupatta so it wouldn’t get tangled. Niall let out a long breath, shaking his head. "At least don’t do anything reckless, Zayn." Zayn just smirked, gripping the handles. "No promises." Kinn exhaled loudly and with that, the engine roared to life, and they sped off into the night.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Since the hospital allowed only one person to stay with the patient overnight, Seokjin had firmly decided to remain by Namjoon's side, regardless of Namjoon's insistence that he was fine. No amount of reassurance could convince Seokjin otherwise. With that settled, the rest of the family returned home, exhausted yet still burdened with worry for Namjoon. The house, usually lively, felt unusually quiet a reflection of the unease lingering in everyone's hearts.

"Where is Zayn?" That was the first question asked the moment they settled in. Eun, who had just finished serving everyone tea after they had freshened up, looked around expectantly. The room fell into silence for a brief moment, tension hanging in the air. Yoongi exchanged a glance with Taehyung, while Gong, who had been pacing ever since they arrived, finally came to a stop. No one had an answer. "Go look for him somewhere getting drunk, taking advantage of the fact that I can't be there to knock some sense into him," Gong said, his voice laced with both hatred and disappointment. Yeon sighed, setting his cup down. "Gong, we don’t know that for sure~We don’t?" Gong snapped, turning to glare at his husband. "You know your son just as well as I do, Yeon. He is impulsive, reckless, and never thinks before acting. And now, after whatever madness he pulled tonight, you think he’s somewhere making responsible choices?" Yeon had no response to that. Because deep down, he feared Gong was right. "He turned off his phone," Liam sighed in frustration, finally giving up after repeatedly trying to call Zayn. He sank onto the couch beside Louis, who was equally preoccupied with his own attempts. "Harry’s phone is off as well," Louis exhaled sharply, his voice laced with growing concern. His words immediately drew everyone’s attention, the room falling into a tense silence.

"So it's safe to assume that either Zayn Da killed him or he took him somewhere we can't find him," Pond remarked dryly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "Pond, shut up." Liam shot his younger brother a sharp look. "I'm just saying," Pond shrugged, glancing around at the tense faces in the room. He had rushed back home the moment he heard the news, only to walk into even more chaos. "Zayn Da disappearing with Namjoon's crazy ex? That doesn't exactly scream ‘nothing to worry about'."
Yeol, who had been silent, let out a heavy breath, rubbing his temples. "We’ll talk about this when Zayn comes back~And when will that be?" Gong muttered, his tone tight with frustration. No one had an answer.

Vincenzo panted heavily as he burst into the room, his face flushed from running. "I—I didn’t find him anywhere," he announced, still trying to catch his breath. "Also, Porsche Boudi, Kinn Da, Hoseok Da, and Niall Boudi aren’t home either. Kimmy said Zayn Da called Kinn Da for some urgency." Silence settled over the room for a moment before Yeol exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "So, he’s not just missing-he took half the damn para (colony) with him." Liam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "And no one thought to tell us where they were going?~ Apparently not," Vincenzo muttered, still panting. "Kimmy said Kinn Da left in a rush. Porsche Boudi was mad as hell when he found out, but he went after him anyway."
Yeon, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with worry. "Something is going on, and Zayn clearly doesn’t want us involved~Yeah, well, tough luck," Louis snapped, his patience running thin. "Because I’m done sitting around. If he won’t answer his damn phone, then we’ll find him ourselves."

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Zayn pushed the hotel room door open, stepping inside first, while Harry hesitated at the threshold, still fidgeting with the hem of his panjabi. His nerves hadn't settled since they arrived. The hotel was nice-too nice, actually-and the receptionist downstairs had been far too familiar with Zayn. Harry swallowed, eyes darting around the room as he finally stepped in, his sandals making the faintest sound against the polished floor. Zayn, on the other hand, was completely at ease, tossing his wallet and phone onto the bedside table before shrugging off his shawl.

Harry bit his lip, unable to shake the thought that Zayn had been here before. Many times. The way the receptionist smirked when she saw him, the way she didn’t even ask for his name before handing him a key-it all made Harry’s stomach twist.

Zayn caught him staring and raised a brow. "What?" Harry quickly looked away, shaking his head. "N-Nothing," he murmured, stepping further inside. Zayn hummed, watching him closely before moving toward the minibar. "You hungry?" Harry shook his head again, gripping the edge of his dupatta as if it would somehow ground him. His heart was pounding, his head spinning. He had just gotten married-to Zayn Malik, the older brother of Harry's lover of all people. And now he was in a hotel room with him, alone.

Zayn’s fingers worked through the buttons of his panjabi with ease, his movements slow and deliberate. His sharp eyes never left Harry, watching every nervous twitch of the younger man’s hands, the way he held onto his dupatta like a lifeline. Then, as if suddenly amused, Zayn let out a low chuckle.

Harry’s head snapped up, startled. “W~What?” Zayn smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re thinking too much.” Harry pressed his lips together, looking away. His fingers curled tighter around the fabric draped over his shoulders. “I’m not-” Zayn stepped closer, his voice dropping. “You’re wondering how often I’ve been here, aren’t you?” Harry’s breath hitched. The thought had been gnawing at him since they arrived, but hearing Zayn say it so casually made his stomach twist even more. “I-” Harry struggled to find words, his throat suddenly dry. Zayn reached out, his fingers just grazing the dupatta before he pulled away with a knowing smirk.

Harry blinked up at him, caught off guard by the bluntness in Zayn’s voice. There was no shame, no hesitation-just a casual honesty that somehow unsettled him even more.
Zayn finished unbuttoning his panjabi and tossed it onto a nearby chair, stretching his shoulders as he spoke again. “Relax, I don’t bring prostitutes here. I come here when I fight with my Baba-which is every other day.” His tone was dry, almost bored, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Harry bit his lip, shifting awkwardly. He didn’t know what to say to that. He barely knew Zayn, let alone the depths of his family issues. But something in the way Zayn said it-like he was used to it, like it was just another part of his life-made Harry’s chest feel tight. Zayn sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking at Harry again. “You should change,” he muttered, nodding towards the bathroom. “It’s been a long day.” Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding, his fingers gripping the edge of his panjabi as he turned toward the bathroom, still feeling the weight of Zayn’s gaze on his back.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Niall, Porsche, Hoseok, and Kinn decided to stop by a restaurant since it was already late. They informed everyone at their own home that they would bring dinner back with them.

Everyone sat anxiously, their unease growing with each passing minute. Zayn’s phone was still off, and to make matters worse, the way Kinn, Hoseok, Niall, and Porsche had rushed out of the house after Zayn’s call had only fueled their suspicion. Living in the same para, they were certain that by now, the news had already spread like wildfire "I just hope everything is alright back at home because I am hella sure Gong Kaku's head is on fire," Hoseok said, shaking his head. Niall absentmindedly played with his food, deep in thought. "I don't understand. Why not take Harry home? It’s not like things are going to get undone. What happened, happened. Delaying the news will only make more problems for them." Porsche sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I have to agree with Niall. The longer they keep this under wraps, the worse the fallout will be." Kinn also nodded, but before he could say anything, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his brows furrowed slightly "It's Liam," he muttered, almost as if Liam could hear him even without answering the call. "Oh fuck, they definitely know something’s up. Shit," Hoseok panicked immediately, gripping his fork tighter. For someone who was a police officer, he sure got scared way too easily when it came to friends and family matters.

Kinn took a slow breath, trying to keep his voice even. "Hey Liam," he greeted, bouncing his leg anxiously under the table. "Hey, sorry to call you this late. Are you home?" Liam’s voice sounded casual, but there was an unmistakable edge of concern. Before Kinn could respond, Porsche snatched the phone from his hand and put it on speaker so everyone could hear. "No, I’m with Porsche. We’re out for dinner. Why? Is everything alright?" Kinn answered smoothly. Niall nodded in approval at the response, though his fingers still drummed against the table.
"Sorry, Bhai, but Kimmy and Vinny were hanging out, and Kimmy told Vin that Zee called you. You rushed out of the house, and now Zayn still isn’t home, and his phone is off. We’re really worried," Liam admitted, Kinn bit his lip, feeling a pang of guilt for making Liam worry, but he had to keep his word to Zayn. "Yeah... Zayn told me Namjoon was admitted because he had a sudden panic attack, so I rushed out in a hurry. But by the time I got there, the visiting hours were already over," Kinn said, gasping for air as he forced the lie out in one breath. Porsche subtly reached under the table and squeezed Kinn’s knee, grounding him as Hoseok and Niall exchanged uneasy glances.
Liam was silent for a solid couple of seconds before he let out a heavy sigh. “Well, if Zayn calls you or something, please let me know. You know how Gong Kaku gets about Zayn being reckless,” he said, his voice laced with worry. After a few more exchanges, they ended the call, and Kinn leaned back dramatically, exhaling like he had just run a marathon. “If only Gong Kaku knew what his son had done,” Porsche muttered, shaking his head. The table went dead silent. They could never catch a breath when it came to Zayn.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Louis was already pacing back and forth, barely holding in his frustration. The moment Liam ended the call, he was the first to jump on him. “What did he say? Does he know where those two idiots are?” Louis demanded, his eyes scanning the room, searching for any sign of reassurance. The others were just as eager, their anticipation thick in the air. Meanwhile, Gong and Yeol had retreated to the library, most likely pouring themselves a drink to ease their growing frustration “No,” Liam sighed, rubbing his temple. “Kinn said he rushed out because Zayn told him about Namjoon’s admission, but by the time he got there, visiting hours were already over.” Louis let out an exasperated scoff, crossing his arms. “And you believe that?”  Liam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Lou. I know he lied. But what do you want me to do? Drag him back here and force him to talk?" Louis shook his head, frustration evident on his face as he scrolled through his phone. "If Kinn was really at the hospital, wouldn’t he have at least seen Harry there? We know neither of them were at the damn hospital. That fucker just lied through his teeth." Both of them fell into a tense silence. Everyone knew Kinn wouldn’t lie unless he had a damn good reason-meaning whatever Zayn was up to, it was big enough for Kinn to cover for him.

Louis took a deep breath before dialing Niall's number. Unlike Kinn, who had no problem lying to his own best friend, Liam, Niall was different. Yes, he was friends with Zayn, but he was also Louis’s friend- and Louis was sure Niall would tell him the truth "Nini, I’m asking you to cut all the bullshit and tell me where Zayn is," Louis demanded the moment Niall picked up, not even giving him a chance to say hello. His tone was sharp, no-nonsense, he had officially switched into interrogation mode "Okay, Lou, hold your horses," Niall sighed, trying to keep his voice steady. "First of all, Zayn called Hobi for help. He said Namjoon fell sick suddenly, and~" he hesitated for a second, choosing his words carefully, "~there was some incident at the hospital involving Namjoon's ex-boyfriend?" Louis’ eyes flickered with a hint of hope, grasping onto any bit of information that might lead them to the truth "Yes, Harry, you’ve seen him a couple of times with Namjoon before Namjoon got married," Louis reminded him, his voice firm. Niall hummed on the other end, as if piecing the story together himself. "Yeah, so Zayn asked for the police’s help. He specifically asked Hobi to handle something- something that would keep Harry away from Namjoon."Louis nodded slowly, processing the information. It did sound suspicious. If something like this had happened at the hospital, how come they hadn’t heard about it on the spot? But then again, Niall’s story wasn’t entirely impossible either "So do you know where Zayn is now? Because his phone is off, and can you ask Hobi if he’s seen Harry anywhere?" Louis asked, his voice laced with urgency. He sank onto the couch, unconsciously leaning against his mother-in-law. His mind raced, but above all, he was terrified for Harry. Niall sighed on the other end. "Well, Hobi wasn’t there himself. I only got to the station after he told me about it. And as for Zayn... he hasn’t contacted me or Hobi since." Louis was on the verge of tears. He loved Harry like his own brother, and now he is missing-at least as far as Louis knew. His voice trembled as he pleaded, "Nini, please ask Hobi to find Harry. He’s innocent and naive, I~I don’t know where he could be. It was always me or Namjoon who helped him out. I can send Hobi a photo of him." Louis was practically begging now, his desperation palpable. Liam, despite his own reservations about Harry, pulled Louis closer, offering silent comfort. As much as they didn’t particularly like Harry, Louis wasn’t wrong to be worried. And deep down, even Liam couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling settling in his chest.