So if you are a mourning One Direction fan, Lost in Showbiz is here to tell you that it’s all going to be OK. Every 10 seconds, a thousand dewey-eyed tweens hammer you with multiple tweets that do nothing but demand you follow them. Your personal life is ripped apart in the press. If the sheer unrelenting grind of the job – every day a thankless repetition of junkets and meet-and-greets and singing songs that you grew sick of 18 months ago – wasn’t bad enough, then the peripheries must make it a thousand times worse. However, even in this darkest of hours – which, depending on your age, is the equivalent of Paul McCartney leaving the Beatles to go solo or Paul Cattermole leaving S Club 7 to form a nu-metal band with “a Limp Bizkit vibe” called Skua – if you’re completely honest with yourself, you can’t really blame the lad for wanting out.īecause, God, being a pop star looks crap. I say presumably because who has the emotional stamina right now to check it? This is a sad day, and it will only take one enthusiastically drawn piece of glittery fan art depicting Zayn as a naked Jesus on the cross, bleeding rainbows from his wrists, to collectively push us over the edge. “ZAYN, YOU ARE MY HERO, YOU SAVES ME, AND I WANT TO THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING.” “WHAT THE FUCK? WHY R MY FRIENDS KEEPS TELLING ME ‘CONDOLENCE’?” Search Twitter for “Zayn” and you’ll be confronted with a barrage of misery, hammered out in block capitals. You just have to peek online to see how much he has ruined everything.
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