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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

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Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Eight

A/N: Just saying the story is picking up pace after this part so get ready.

Words: 3.4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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I watch as Tommy and Nikki finish up their MTV interview to promote the new album, Nikki glancing at me every now and then.

"And, before we go, can you repeat those dates again for the release of the video of first single and the debut of the album?"

"Uh, the 'Girls, Girls, Girls' video--we're filming for that around the end of the month, the album's coming out between May fifth and May tenth, probably." Nikki states.

"Alright, you heard it here. May is gonna be the month of Mötley Crüe, obviously when those release details become more specific we will let you all at home know but for now just keep your eyes on May. Nikki, Tommy, it's always a great talk anytime you're in the studio with us, we appreciate you dropping by."

"No problem." Nikki says.

"Anytime, Dude." Tommy adds.

"Good luck with the album, it's gonna be at the top of the charts when it's out, I guarantee."

"Thanks, we really appreciate that." Tommy nods.

"And good luck also with shooting the video, I'm sure plenty of our audience will be looking forward to all the women, and of course we'll be looking forward to all the censoring we're gonna have to edit in." The interviewer's last line is sarcastic as he shakes their hands, and they laugh. "Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee of Mötley Crüe, folks. Don't go anywhere." He finishes as they cut, and Nikki waves me over, sitting his coffee cup down to reach for my water bottle in my hand.

I give it to him and he nearly drinks the entire thing before handing it back to me.

"Thank you, babe." He says to me, letting out a breath as the interviewer bids them one last "goodbye" as they stand up and stretch.

We have to meet Mick, Vince and Doc at their rehearsal space so they can continue their auditions for background singers.

So far, the girls that have tried out are either gorgeous but can't sing, and the ones who can sing like Whitney Houston aren't "hot enough to be on the same stage as Mötley Crüe", even though I've seen them hook up with far worse.

I haven't said a word about 'You're All I Need' because the giant, heavy scratch my key left on the entire passenger side of Nikki's brand new car will say plenty when he finally notices it.

So far he hasn't even driven the thing since he's been back. It's just been in the garage.

"...Okay, thank you for your time." Nikki pipes to the pretty dark-haired girl with almost honey colored eyes.

I think she's on the "hot but talentless" list.

"Dude, we're never gonna find fucking singers." Tommy groans, rubbing his face.

"Viv, can you sing?" Vince whines.

"Like chalk against a chalk board." I reply blankly and he sighs.

"All this has been is just hours and hours of disappointment with a few good blowjobs in between." Vince states.

"Just shut up and be patient." Mick tells them.

Doc sends the next girl in, and I see everyone's faces light up because she's pretty.

Blonde hair, a nice figure, and she dresses the part.

"Hi." She greets us with a smile.

"Hi." Vince grins back.

"I-I'm Donna McDaniel." She says next.

"Okay, here's some lyrics." Nikki hands her a sheet of paper with the main lines of a few of their songs she'd have to sing backup for and she takes it. "Start when you're ready."

The relief on their faces when she starts, makes me want to laugh.

She's attractive and she can sing.

"When you leave, tell Doc that we're interested, and he'll lead you to where you can stay until we finish up." Nikki informs her and she nods, handing the music back to him.

"Thank you." She tells them as she steps out.

"No, thank you." Vince says out of earshot, looking a little more hopeful that they'll find their second singer.

And sure enough, they do.

Within forty more minutes, they're sending everyone else home after another blonde, named "Emi" but she pronounces it "Amy", comes in.

I can see Vince's mind churning up how to get her and Donna to fuck around with him, and Nikki can see it, too.

Once Emi is sent to wait with Donna, Nikki's going into military sergeant mode.

"If we hire them," he starts, pointing at Tommy and Vince, "nobody fucks them. Got it?"

"What? Why?" Vince looks heartbroken.

"You don't shit in your own backyard, man, that's why. They're employees, we're the bosses."

"Yeah, Vinnie, we can't have employees having us wrapped around their finger." Tommy adds with a nod.

"It's the easiest pussy there possibly will ever be, are you serious?" Vince complains.

"If it's so easy, why did they both turn you down already?" I point out and he glares at me.

"Just. Don't. Fuck. Them. Got it?" Nikki sternly asks.

I guess now is a good time to mention that Nikki fucked Donna on the "Girls" tour.

The closer we got to tour, the more adamant Nikki was about cutting his addiction.

But, despite him constantly saying "I'm done with it" and throwing away everything to get high on, I'd always find him crawling around in our yard, naked, with his shot gun...carrying on about midgets and Mexicans.

It wouldn't take the neighbors five minutes to call and let me know he was out there.

Trying to tell them a believable excuse was the hard part.

I let out a soft breath, pulling the covers tighter over me, drifting further and further into sleep as the sound of our ceiling fan and Nikki flickering his lighter from the closed closet every now and again moves through the room, and lulls me to sleep.

I don't know what time it is when I wake up to the sound of Nikki screaming, running out of our room, but I force myself to sit up as quickly as I can and go after him.

I turn on the light in the hallway just in time to see him pressing the "panic" button on our security system contact box, which alerts West Tech, our security company, and they send out one of their people to come check on the situation.

"Nikki, what the hell?!" I ask him and he turns to look at me, pissed off and paranoid.

"I'm tired of these bastards not giving us any peace."

"W-What? Who?"

"You know who!"

"Nikki, what are you talking about?!"

He had smoked his crack and convinced himself our security had bugged the house and were watching him, constantly.

Then, he had decided "no, it's the FBI that's watching me" and gained the courage to set off the alarm to our security that something wasn't right.

And then, by the time West Tech arrived, Nikki was turning on them, again.

"Nikki, let me get to the door." I tell him calmly as the knocking continues.

"Fuck off!" Nikki shouts.

"Mr. Sixx, it's Chris with West Tech--"

"--Get off of my fucking property or I'll fucking shoot you!" He screams as we stand on the other side of the door, his shotgun ready. "You motherfuckers have bugged my house and I'm not fucking taking it anymore!"

"Mr. Sixx--"

They stop trying the second Nikki cracks the door open, and points his gun at all of them.

I hear them scatter to their van, the tires screeching as they quickly make a break for it.

He slams the door shut and locks it, the both of us waiting in silence until we decide they're gone.

"You called our security...then shot at them because they answered the call..." I point out to him, exhausted, and he looks down at me. "I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom." I state.

I lock the door behind me and climb into the bed, hearing Nikki go back to our bedroom, and I envy Karen for staying over at a friend's house because Nikki is starting to really wear me down with his shit.

The next few nights consists of Nikki, Tommy, me and the director working on the music video, Wayne Isham, trying to decide what strip club would be best to film the video for "Girls, Girls, Girls" at.

And me and Nikki arguing over another matter that is too be determined:

"I said I'm not gonna be in the video." I repeat to Nikki, crossing my arms and he raises a brow.

"Babe, it's not that serious." Nikki states.

"I already told you I'm not comfortable with it."

"You wear bikinis all the time, you wear thongs and bras all the time...It's not like I'm gonna have you up there topless or anything." He motions to the stage of the Seventh Veil.

"Nikki, I'm not comfortable with it. Why can't you just let that go?"

"Why can't you be more fun?"

"Nikki, it's fine if she doesn't want to." Tommy lightly tells him with a chuckle.

Nikki doesn't even hear him, too busy focusing on me to see if he cracked me or not.

"Are you fellas good on drinks?" A scantily clad cocktail waitress asks us.

"We're fine, thanks." Wayne tells her with a decent amount of class...but that doesn't sit well with Tommy and Nikki.

"Okay, my name's Tabby if you guys need anything, let me know."

Before she can smile and walk away, Tommy's stopping her.

"Actually, there is something else, Tabby." He states, smiling, and she grins politely.

"What can I get for you?"

He motions for her to come closer and he gets in her ear, with Nikki smirking, knowing exactly what he was proposing to the pretty brunette.

Her face pales, and she glances at me before awkwardly giving Tommy nudge with her elbow as if he were joking.

His face shifts to one of seriousness.

"What, you think I'm joking?" He asks her and she tries to keep from looking too uncomfortable, giving all of us a small smile before saying:

"I've gotta get back to work. Let me know when you guys need a refill, you know it's on the house."

She walks away and Nikki and Tommy chuckle.

That was the first time I had seen a woman get uncomfortable around the guys.

Usually they were all for whatever it is Tommy or Vince suggest doing with them...I later found out Tommy had suggested to Tabby that he and Nikki meet her in the bathroom to tag team her.

That's why she had looked almost sick looking at me, when he was whispering in her ear.

She was probably thinking:

"Bless her naive heart."

Me nor Wayne bother to ask any questions about the incident before we're getting ready to go.

The guys and Wayne talk to the owner about possibly shooting the video and he's all for it, giving them the day after tomorrow to get it done.

I'm too busy thinking about what Nikki said earlier to really listen all that much.

"Why can't you be more fun?" who the hell does he think he is? Oh, right, he's "NiKkI fUcKiNg SiXx."

Once we're stepping outside and telling Wayne "bye", Nikki and Tommy are putting in to going to the Cathouse.

I just want to go home.

"I don't feel like going all the way back home, then coming all the way back." Nikki complains and I furrow my brows a little.

"Nikki, it's..." I grab his wrist to pull his jacket sleeve up and look at his watch. It's nearly 3:00am. "...2:53."

"Then just call a cab." He suggests.

"Are you on smack right now?" I don't sugarcoat the question. "You're being a bigger asshole than you are when you're sober." I add.

"Fuck off!" He snaps at me.

I can tell Tommy wants to say something, but keeps quiet.

"Fine." I say, turning on my heel to the payphone down the way.

I realize I don't have any money to pay for it, but before I can go back and ask Nikki for some change, he and Tommy are off.

So I find my next option.

I walk nearly an hour to the Franklin and get to where Duff's staying, only to find him, and none of the guys are home.

I feel like crying, but decide this isn't the end of the world before I calm down and sit by his door like a lost puppy.

I wake up to the feeling of someone nudging me awake with their shoe, and I'm met with Izzy looking down at me.

"Izzy." I greet him.

"Viv." He replies blankly. "Did you leave or were you thrown out?" He asks me and I roll my eyes before he gives me the slightest hint of a smile before it fades and he's nodding across the hall. "C'mon."

I stand up as he unlocks his apartment and motions me inside.

"You can stay here until Duff gets in." He says.

"Thank you." I reply, sitting on the couch as he hands me a shitty blanket.

"I'm gonna go scrub the lipstick and regret from my balls." He informs me, heading to the bathroom.

"At least you regret it." I say back.

"Nah, I don't regret getting a blowjob from a random girl, I regret not nailing her." He corrects me and I don't even hide my laughter.

Once he's done, he's stepping across the hall to see if Duff's back. Apparently he is because Izzy's coming to get me.

"Fuck off, Sixxette." He takes the blanket from me and I gladly head towards Duff's place.

When I get inside, Duff's passed out on the couch, snoring, and smelling like a bar.

I walk over to him, gently shaking him awake, and he let's out another groan.

"Go away." He waves his hand, his eyes closed, and I raise a brow.

"Duff, it's Viv. C'mon, at least go get in your bed so you won't feel worse tomorrow."

He perks up at the sound of my voice, lifting his head, rubbing his eyes.

"I've...is this a dream? 'Cause usually you're naked and 'Purple Rain' is playing." He slurs and I feel my face heat up in embarrassment.

"No, it isn't a dream...and I didn't need to know that but thank you, I guess." I reply, pulling his boots off.

I help him stand, his tall, lanky figure towering over me.

"You look pretty, were you on a date?" He asks when I get him to sit on his bed, helping him not fall over as he tries to take off his shirt and gets caught in it.

"Er...kinda?" I shrug and he nods. "Were you on a date?" I ask when a condom wrapper falls from his jacket and he scrunches his face up.

"Er...kinda." He replies in the same tone, rubbing his face and I laugh. "Hey, I'm a bachelor now, Viv. I'm gullible. I mean elgib--no, estrang...or amb...what the fuck is that word?"

"Eligible?"

"Yeah, that one." He coughs, taking his belt off as I pick up his scattered dirty clothes and put them against his wall in a pile.

When I turn back around, I get a split-second's worth of an eyeful of him completely naked and snap back around, covering my eyes.

"Ohh...I should've told you I'm freeballing." He says.

"Just..." I turn around, keeping my eyes closed, holding my hand out for his pants so I can put them in the pile with his other clothes.

"Are you reaching for it or something?" He laughs and, again, my face is bright red.

"No, Duff, I'm not reaching for it. I need your pants." I inform him.

He laughs some more, throwing the pants my way and I take them and put them in the pile as he crawls into bed and under the covers.

"By the way, it's bigger than that." He informs me and I furrow my brows and look at him.

"What?"

"It's cold in here so..."

I realize he's referring to his dick and I scream internally.

"...Okay, Duff, too much informa--"

"--I'm packing. That's all I'm saying. I'm like a can of Spam. Lotta meat in--"

"--Shh!" I blush even more, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Oh, oops."

"Jeez. Goodnight, Duff." I'm about to go sleep on the couch.

"Where ya going?" He asks me when I turn the light off.

"Sleeping on the couch."

"You can sleep in here, I can take the couch." He sits up.

"No, no. You're not gonna feel good tomorrow just sleep in here, really, it's fine."

"Well, are you gonna be okay? You don't sleeping by yourself."

I sigh, wishing it were that simple.

"Duff, we can't do that. Nikki wrote an entire song about wanting to kill me, and it was because he thinks something's happening between you and I." I explain.

"Nikki accusing you of cheating?" There's an uncomfortable wait before he says, "that's fucking rich."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't like it so out of respect for him--"

"--I don't fucking respect him." He mumbles.

"Duff, you're drunk. Just sleep it off."

"You're right. I should shut the fuck up let the universe deal him his fucking cards."

I ignore him saying so, turning to leave, but I stop myself.

I'm only here to begin with because Nikki couldn't just take me back home.

I step back to the bed, taking my heels and jacket off.

I take the extra pillow under mine and put it between us as I get into bed.

"Goodnight, Duff." I say quietly, turning my back to him.

"G'night, Viv."

Nikki would have had an absolute fit had he known, then again, I wasn't fucking Duff, I had no intention of doing so, and I told Nikki exactly where I ended up staying the next day.

The sun glitters through the window of Duff's room, hitting my face, and I blink my eyes open, feeling Duff breathing in and out.

Sometime during the night I must've broken past the pillow partition because, although I'm facing away from him, my back is pulled to his side, the side of my face is resting against his bicep, my shoulder tucked under the pit of his arm, and the arm that my face is against, is wrapped around me, his hand resting against my stomach.

I turn to look at him, seeing his peaceful expression as he sleeps contently.

My mind drifts back to that dream I once had about him.

I hate that Nikki thinks anything is going on between Duff and I, but it's my fault.

I lied about seeing him, I lied by omittion at the beginning by not even telling Nikki about him...a part of me wants to think if I were to tell Nikki about me dreaming I had sex with Duff, it'd be a wake up call that our issues are more serious than he believed.

I mean, when you're in a committed relationship and you can picture yourself having sex with someone you're close to, to the point your subconscious creates this entire fantasized scenario, there's something wrong that needs to be talked about.

But another part of me knows he'll flip his shit, call me a "whore" and probably file for divorce.

So, keeping it to myself it is.

My eyes go to my crucifix lying on the bedside table, and I reach out for it.

I taken it off last night when I felt too guilty for sweeping in the same bed as Duff, knowing Nikki wouldn't like it.

I thought if I took it off, I wouldn't feel bad anymore.

And I didn't.

When I was a teenager I would take that necklace off anytime I did something I thought my mother would disapprove of. Whether it was cheating on homework assignments, or, eventually, fucking Nikki Sixx.

I ended up picking that habit back up once Duff and I started getting closer, except instead of avoiding the disapproval of my mother, I was fleeing the disapproval of Nikki.

One thing I didn't take in to consideration, however, taking it off left me at risk for leaving a track.

Just like Mick had put together I had slept with Nikki because my crucifix was on his bedroom floor back in '81, halfway through the "Girls" tour with Guns N' Roses, I accidentally left my track on the bathroom counter in Duff's room, where Nikki went to throw up while he was hanging out with him, Slash, and Steven.

What they should teach in children's church: if you're going to sin, keep any religious jewelry or articles of clothing on.

Whomever the hell you worship already knows you're up to no good.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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musedblues · 4 years

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Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific!

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission... To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash.

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking. The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking." Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee #borhap fanfic

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ladyshandioftheendless · 5 years

Text

StarChild Assassin Part 9!

Attempts to escape the storm.

~Shandi

StarChild makes a very difficult decision. He and Eric go to the only person he can still trust for help.

LIPS LIKE POISON Part 9

Eric still didn’t like this.

“Are you sure about him? I mean really sure?”

StarChild was silent for a long time which did nothing to boost Eric’s confidence. “Honestly..I’m not sure about anything anymore..” he finally said, running a hand through his curls. “..but he’s the only person left who hasn’t betrayed me. Besides you of course~ I have to try.” He slowly opened the door to his Contractor’s office. “Wait out here? I don’t know how he’ll react if he sees you right now.” Eric sighed. “If you say so. I just wanna go on record and say that I still think this is a bad idea.” He couldn’t blame Eric for feeling that way. In an extremely dangerous situation such as this you shouldn’t trust anyone so freely, even someone you know. He just hoped he could still trust Gene.

As usual the Demon sat at his desk with barely any light in the room. Sometimes he thought Gene took his ‘I thrive in the dark’ thing a bit too far. Demon stood up as he entered. “I was surprised when you called me, StarChild.” he said, offering his Assassin a seat. “I hadn’t heard from you in a week and a half so I had given you up for dead.” StarChild fell into the chair and sighed. “I was dead. A man named Ace Frehley murdered me…and then a wonderful man named Eric Singer brought me back.” Demon laughed. “You really are ridiculous. You can’t expect to last long in this business with an attitude like that.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here tonight, Gene. I don’t want to be in this business anymore. I want out. I’m tried of being StarChild. I just want to be Paul Stanley.”

Demon crossed his arms. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? After all these years together you can’t just leave! I’ve invested too much into you! I made you what you are!”

“Is that all I am to you? An investment? If so that’s all the more reason for me to leave.” Demon’s silence was the only answer he needed. He got up from his chair and turned to leave. “I really thought you were different, Gene. I was so damn naive. I fell for your sweet talk..your promises that you’d make me something special. I broke my boyfriend’s heart and left him a bitter drunken bastard who humiliated me and had me beaten up. Look at me now. Well..I’m sure you can charm someone else into replacing me. That’s what you’re good at after all.” He struggled to fight back his tears as he closed the door behind him. It was actually a relief to also leave StarChild behind in that room. However that feeling faded entirely when he noticed that Eric was gone.

Paul searched the building in an absolute panic, hoping Eric hadn’t just left. His car was still here though. He saw it through the window. Maybe he had just gone to the bathroom? He didn’t feel comfortable going in to check so he waited outside the door. 5 minutes passed. Then 10. Then 20. Still no Eric. He began to panic again. “W-where is he..?” Looking up he saw a camera in the hallway. He cursed under his breath as he went back to Gene’s office, finding him still standing there with his arms crossed. “Back so soon? I thought you didn’t need me anymore.” Paul rolled his eyes. “Well I do..because I can’t find Eric. I know you have access to all the cameras in this building. I want to see if they caught anything.” Demon shook his head but grabbed a remote from his desk, turning on the wall of monitors behind him. Paul looked up in disbelief. There had to have been at least 30! “Paranoid much?”

“Cautious.”

“Sure let’s go with that.”

Screen after screen showed nothing, making Paul more and more anxious. Demon studied him closely. “You really care about him don’t you?” A slow nod. “Yes..I really do.” He reached out to brush his fingers against Paul’s cheek. “They say..if you really love someone you should let them go..so I suppose my choice is clear.” He sighed as Paul hugged him tightly. “Thank you..thank you so much, Gene. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He smiled and ran his fingers through soft curls. “I think I can see how much–wait a minute..I see something on the garage monitor.” Paul turned his head so fast his hair smacked him in the face. “I see him! Why the hell is he in the garage..and who’s that guy he’s with..?!” Gripped with fear (and a little jealousy), he took off like a shot for the garage. Demon sighed as he called for security. “Still as impulsive as ever..”

Paul couldn’t believe what he saw. He couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as Eric would just up and desert him for another man. Impossible! There had to be some kind of explanation! He heard their voices echoing not too far off and he stopped to look around, hiding behind one of the cars when he spotted them. Something about that guy..his mannerisms, his body language..they screamed that he was hiding something. “I think that takes care of your problem.” Eric said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Like I said before you should definitely take it to a shop to make sure there are no bigger issues.” The other man gave him a smile that was way too sweet for Paul’s liking. As a matter of fact it was downright fake as hell. “You are such a darling for helping me. I would have been stuck here if it weren’t for you~” He stepped closer and began playing with Eric’s hair. “Why don’t you come back with me to my place and I’ll thank you properly~?” Paul bristled. This bitch had some balls. Although..he did still have his set of daggers in his inside pocket. It would be really easy to nail him right in the jugular. Eric laughed nervously. “S-sorry but I..I really should get back. My boyfriend’s..probably worried about me..” This didn’t make the other man back off. He snaked his hands under Eric’s shirt and parted his lips. “I’ll do it right here then. I promise to make it quick~” Eric grabbed the guy’s wrists. “Look..you’re hot and all but I’m pretty sure I told you that I was with someone. So don’t. When somebody says no, they mean it.”

How dare this asshole reject him! Vinnie’s charming smile quickly turned into a disgusted sneer. He twisted his arms out of Eric’s hold and grabbed the ankh chained around his neck, producing a razor thin wire that wrapped itself around his target’s throat. “That’s fine..if you don’t wanna play nice..we’ll do this the hard way~” The wire cut into Eric’s flesh causing blood to stream down. Such a beautiful sight. “How’s it feel being in death’s loving embrace, little boy~?” Paul was about to intervene when a group of security guards burst through a door, aiming their guns and yelling at the Assassin to release his victim. Paul seized the opportunity, throwing one of his daggers to cut the wire. Vinnie cursed as he lost his balance and crashed to the ground. The guards attempted to take him but he slipped from their grasp and disappeared out the door. After the guards ran off after him, Paul rushed over to Eric and carefully unwrapped the wire. He’d definitely have to thank Gene for that little surprise. “Eric..talk to me. Are you alright..?!”

Eric just laughed between coughs. Besides the bleeding from his neck he seemed to be fine. “This..is the thanks I get for trying..to be a nice guy..”

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 10!

#Shandi's drabbles #KISS AU writings #the StarChild Assassin #Eric and Paul try to get to hell out #Vinnie has other plans #more feels nobody asked for~

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even-strangerthings · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven. Billy Hargrove. Chapter 1.

(this gif is not mine. Credit to the owner.)

Warning: Cursing, sexual assault/harassment, that’s it I think?? This is my first time doing this so please bear with me.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x OFC character Dominique Villegas.

Word Count: 3,977

A/N: Okay so I know that the Stranger Things writers wrote Billy as a shitty person who is flawed, but I, as well as a lot of others, would like to see a redemption arc for mullet boy, and since I don’t think that it’s going to happen on the show 😒 I’m taking into my own hands and making my own redemption arc for him. Please don’t come for me in my inbox pointing out his shitty characteristics, I’m well aware, but I’m in too deep now and there’s no turning back. If you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy the first chapter, reblogging and commenting is welcome 😘

“I don’t know why I have to go. These are your friends Skylar, not mine.”

Dominique says, jumping up and pulling her skin tight, high waisted jeans up her thighs, having to lay on the bed and button them. She gets off the bed and looks at herself in the mirror, impressed with how good her figure looked in the jeans. The jeans might have been a pain to get on, but they didn’t look half bad.

“Dude, shut up. You’re not the new girl anymore, you have friends.”

“Like I said, they’re your friends, not mine. I’m only ‘cool’ by association, me being the popular cheerleader’s cousin. I know your friends only see me as the smart girl they can cheat off of in class. I’m a living, breathing cliché.”

She shrugs her shoulders, doing last minute touches to her make up. Skylar sighs and shakes her head.

“That’s not true. You know that Abby likes you, so does Rochelle. And you’re beautiful too. Smart and pretty, you have it all.”

“It’s whatever. I’m only staying for an hour or two, I have to study, and after the last party we went to together I don’t trust you to keep an eye on me and bring me home.”

Skylar laughs and smacks her shoulder. Since Hawkins was a small town everyone in town had grown up with one another. So when Dominique moved to the town not knowing anybody other than her cousin it was hard to make new friends. Even knowing one person who had a ton of friends didn’t help the situation because they didn’t share any memories together. Skylar’s friends didn’t like her, even though Skylar swore up and down that they did, Dominique knew the extent of their tolerance was cheating off her in class and copying her homework.

“Hey, I looked for you for like, 10 minutes before I left with Matt Booker.”

“I was passed out on the couch because you made me drink whatever the hell kind of poison Vinny had in that punch bowl, and Matt isn’t even cute. If you leave me alone at this party to go get laid I’m going to kick your ass.”

They both laugh, finishing up getting ready for the Halloween party.

As much as Dominique didn’t want to go to the party she was having a pretty good time. Skylar’s friends were actually including her in their conversations, a few guys were even coming up and talking to her. Maybe it was just because of her Halloween costume, Sandy Olsen from one of her favorite movies Grease, but to be honest she didn’t mind the attention. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since she moved to Hawkins, not even a date. Dominique got bored with the conversation Skylar’s friends were having, so she makes her way outside to see what was happening, she spots Nancy Wheeler, she has a few classes with her and she was one of the first people to actually be genuinely nice.

“Hey Nancy.”

She smiles. Nancy turns and looks at Dominique, smiling back at her. Nancy’s boyfriend Steve waves at her, taking a sip from his red solo cup, his arm draped over Nancy’s shoulder. Steve and Dominique got along pretty well, he sat in the seat in front of her in her college writing class at school and they’ve gotten to know each other pretty well.

“Hey Dom. Wow, you look great.”

“Thanks. So do you and Steve.”

The three of them go back and forth talking about maybe wanting to hang out this coming weekend, but as their talking the people at the party start gathering in the corner cheering and yelling. They turn their attention to just across from where they’re standing.

“19… 20… 21… 22!”

The crowd starts to count out loud. Billy Hargrove, one of the new guys in town, comes up from drinking the keg. He spews some left over beer out of his mouth, the crowd erupting in more cheers.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT HAWKINS! THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT!”

He chants, the crowd chanting him on, clapping. Billy makes eye contact with Steve, a smirk painted across his face. He walks over, a leather jacket covering his naked torso and a pair of blue tight jeans, as he gets closer he looks Dominique up and down, licking his lips and grinning at her. She glares at him and shoots him a dirty look.

“Guess Hawkins has a new keg king, huh Harrington?”

He says, patting Steve on the back, the crowd following him inside.

“He’s a dick.”

Steve says, glaring at Billy walk away.

“Keg king?”

Dominique questions, directing her question to Steve. He rolls his eyes and half smiles.

“I used to be the life of the party, I guess. He full of shit, don’t listen to him.”

“God damn it.”

Dominique sighs, turning the corner into the living room for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. She had only gone to the bathroom for less than five minutes and she had lost Skylar and the rest of the group, Skylar knew she would be right back but now that she thought about it, Skylar might have been too drunk to hear and pay attention to what she was saying. Dominique makes her way outside and looks for Jason, the guy that drove the rest of the group to the party, but it’s not parked where it was at the beginning of the night.

“Shit. They left me again.”

She groans, running her fingers through her bangs in frustration.

“Hey, Dom.”

She turns around and sees Jonathan Byers standing behind her, his hands in his jacket pockets. They didn’t know each other that well, they’ve only been around one another a handful of times because he was friend’s with Nancy.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here. I haven’t seen you all night.”

“Oh, I just got here. Is Nancy still here?”

He asks, his head gesturing toward the house.

“Uh, I think so. But I think I saw Steve take off. I don’t know why he would leave Nancy here. Quick question, did you happen to see my cousin Skylar or Jason Michaels anywhere?”

“Yeah I saw them leave as I was pulling up.”

Dominique rolls her eyes, thoughts were rushing through her head trying to figure out how the hell she was going to get home now.

“Do you need a ride home? I can drive you.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay… uh, my dad works just down the street. I can just walk down there and hang out there until he gets off.”

She lies. It was nothing against Jonathan, he was always a nice guy to her the few times they’ve interacted, but she always felt awkward when people offer to do things for her, especially if it inconveniences them.

“Are you sure? It’s no problem.”

“I’m fine, I promise. Thank you though. Have a good night.”

She says, starting to walk down the street.

It had to be close to an hour and a half since Dominique started walking, there were no more trick or treaters on the streets, far less car traffic now, and Dominique’s anxiety was through the roof. She had no idea where the hell she was, nothing looked familiar, and she hadn’t seen any place of business since she left the party. It was way too late to knock on someone’s door and ask to use a phone to call her dad, or anybody for that matter. She was screwed.

An old beat up pick up truck makes its way down the street toward her. The driver turns the headlights off and slows as it gets closer to her. Fuck. She keeps walking, trying to avoid looking at the car. Maybe if she didn’t look at them, they wouldn’t look at her. The car parks a few feet behind Dominique but she continues to walk, picking up the pace.

“Hey, where you going?”

A male voice shouts. She continues walking, her heart pounding out of her chest.

“Please be talking to someone else on the street. Anybody but her.”

Was all that was running through her mind, but in the back of her mind she knew they were talking to her, especially since she was the only idiot on the street. The footsteps come up behind her quickly, a hand grabbing her jacket and pulling her back toward them. The man grabs Dominique by her hands, restraining her.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?”

She whimpers, trying to yank her hands away from the man, the more she tries to fight back the harder the creep squeezes her wrists.

“Trying to figure out what a pretty young thing like you is doing out here roaming the streets this late at night, dressed like this.”

He says slowly, yanking her toward him and forcing Dominique’s body to press against his. She can smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on his body. He was much taller than her, even in the heels she was wearing, his body towered over hers. He frees one of her hands to run down his own hand down her torso and curve over her hips, reaching around to her butt and giving it a firm squeeze. Dominique can’t bring herself to look at the man, she was terrified of what he might be capable of. Tears were forming in her eyes and her breath was frantic, not too far off from a full blown panic attack.

“You are a fine piece baby.”

He whispers in her ear, giving her butt a quick but forceful slap. Dominique gasps and tenses her body in fear. His hands continue to grope her butt, his breath heavy.

“God damn. I thought Halloween was over, but you are definitely a treat. Come on, why don’t you touch me.”

He says, taking the arm he still had restrained and bringing it down to his crotch.

“Stop. I swear to god I will scream and wake everyone in this entire neighborhood up. Let me go and I won’t say anything. Please leave me alone.”

Dominique pleads, finally opening her eyes and looking up at the man. He was at least 6 feet tall, and a very bulky frame. He was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, but she couldn’t make out any of his features from the lack of lighting on the street. His hands grip tighter around her wrists.

“You scream, and the knife I have in my pocket goes right in in between your tits. So either you do as I say, or I can kill you. Your choice sweetheart.”

“What’s going on out here? Is there a problem?”

Another deep voice shouts out from a distance away. The man looks behind Dominique and scoffs. She stood there still in fear, she had the chance to run because he was distracted but she couldn’t bring her feet to actually move.

“No problem man. Just trying to get this lovely lady home. You know how women are when they’re drunk. Stubborn as ever.”

She tries to look behind her to see who the creep was talking to but he yanks her whole body forward, his hands now gripping her shoulders.

“That hurts. Please let me go. Please.”

Her voice cracks, tears definitely streaming down her face.

“She clearly doesn’t want to go home with you, so why don’t you let her go?”

She can feel the other man step beside her and try to step in between her and the creep. She looks over at him and she notices the dirty blonde mullet right away. There was no way that out of all the people in Hawkins, that Billy fucking Hargrove was the one coming to her rescue.

“Why don’t you get your own piece of ass?”

The man says to Billy.

“Because this piece of ass is mine. So if you touch her anywhere else I will beat the shit out of you. Let. Her. Go. Dickwad.”

He says between his teeth. The two men stare each other down for a few seconds before the man lets Dominique go with a forceful push, almost pushing her down if Billy hadn’t grabbed her by her arm.

“Go get in the car.”

Billy says to her, still staring at the man. Dominique looks at Billy, confused and still scared shitless. He glances over at her and shakes his head, rolling his blue eyes.

“Did I stutter? Go get in the fucking car.”

Billy raises his voice, pointing to his Camaro parked in the street. Dominique walks away from them and opens the passenger side door of the Camaro, sitting down and watching the two men exchange words. Billy throws a right hook the the man’s face before walking back toward the car, shaking his hand out. He opens the driver side door and gets in, turning the headlights on and laying into his horn for at least ten seconds. Dominique gasps seeing two house’s porch lights turn on. The creep scrambles to get off the sidewalk, dashing to his car and speed off down the street.

Without a word, Billy turns his radio on full blast before driving off in the opposite direction, opening the pack of his cigarettes and lighting it, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out toward the open window. Dominique stares at him, not knowing what to do, or if she should say something to him. He finally looks over at her and raises his eyebrow.

“Oh, did you want one? Didn’t take you for the smoking type.”

He says with the cigarette still between his lips. He tosses the carton at her and hands his lighter to her and flicking it open.

“No, I don’t smoke.”

She says quietly. He nods his head and puts the lighter back in his jacket pocket. Tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

“What were you doing walking around this late by the way? I thought you were at the lame ass party?”

“I was trying to find a way home. My ride ditched me.”

Billy laughs to himself and takes another drag of his cigarette.

“I saw you leave. You’ve been walking for a long ass time. I would have given you a ride home.”

Dominique lets out a small laugh, knowing that he is completely full of shit.

“What were you doing there? You live down there?”

“No. I was driving home and saw him grab you. I didn't know it was you until I saw your outfit. You’re welcome by the way.”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“Thank you.”

“I’m starving and if you want me to get you home I need food. You want something to eat?”

Billy asks, flicking his cigarette out of the window, blowing the smoke out after a few seconds.

“Sure.”

Billy stopped at some 24 hour diner in town and they haven’t said anything to each other since they sat down. There were only a few people in the diner, the waitress letting them sit themselves. They never spoke to each other at school, they had 2 classes together but Billy was never really in class, and when he was he was obnoxious so Dominique did her best to ignore him. They sat there in the booth silent, Billy playing with the sugar packets on the table.

“So what’s your story?”

Billy asks, taking a drink of his soda. Dominique shrugs, playing with the straw in her drink.

“Not much to tell. I moved here over the summer.”

“From where?”

He asks, trying to get her to elaborate on her answers.

“Nevada... You don’t have to do this you know.”

“Do what?”

He responds confused.

“Act like you care. I appreciate you saving me from that creep but you don’t have to act like you care about who I am.”

“How do you know I don’t care? I wouldn’t have pulled off and helped you if I didn’t care.”

Dominique rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Now knowing that he is just playing games with her. The waitress brings over their food, two burgers and two orders of fries. Dominique waits until she’s gone to respond to Billy.

“Did you know my name before tonight? Actually, do you know my name right now? Do you know what classes we have together at school?”

“Okay, so maybe I don’t know your name. But maybe I want to get to know you.”

Billy says with a smirk on his face. For some reason Dominique goes against her better judgement and gives into his little game.

“First off, my name is Dominique, you can call me Dom if you want. Second, what do you want to know?”

She asks, sitting up in the booth. Billy takes a bite from his burger and thinks for a few seconds.

“Why did you move here to this shit town?”

He asks with his mouth full of food.

“My dad has family out here. We’ve uh… been through a lot the last year a half and my dad didn’t want to be in Nevada anymore so he found a job out here close to his family.”

“It’s just you and your dad? Parents get divorced or something?”

Dominique looks away from Billy’s gaze, putting her french fry down and leaning back in the booth. She can still feel him looking at her, waiting for her to say something.

“My mom took off on us. She and my dad were having problems I guess, I never really paid attention, and they never argued in front of me so I never picked up on it. She was cheating on him and she ended up getting pregnant by the guy she was cheating on my dad with. Not just pregnant, pregnant with twin boys. My dad wanted to make it work, said he would raise them as his own, he didn’t care. My mom agreed for the first like 3 months of their lives and I guess the other guy had more to offer my mom so one day I got home from school, and their nursery was wiped out, all of my mom’s stuff was gone. My dad was devastated when he got home. Like, shut down emotionally for months.”

“Shit. I didn’t think it was going to be that fucking sad. Sorry.”

He says, clearing his throat.

“It’s been like 8 months since they left, I’ve gotten less bitter about it I guess.”

“Do you know where she took off to?”

Billy asks.

“No. My dad has called her family asking all of them if they know and they all say they have no idea, but I feel like they do.”

He nods his head, raising his eyebrows and going quiet. Probably feeling like an ass for asking so many questions.

“I have a question for you, you told that creep on the street that I was ‘your piece of ass’, why?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe he would let you go knowing that you had a boyfriend. It worked.”

He responds laughing.

“You must get a lot of girls by being such a knight in shining armor.”

Dominique says sarcastically. Billy rolls his eyes and continues to eat his food.

“This is my street. 3rd house on the right.”

Dominique says, pointing to her house. Billy pulls up to the driveway and shuts the car off.

“Nobody home?”

“No. My dad works at night. Thank you for driving me home, uh, well everything you did tonight. I’ll see you at school whenever you show up.”

She says simply, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door to get out.

“Wait.”

Billy says, Dominique looks back at him with her eyebrow raised at him.

“You’re not going to invite me in or anything?”

“That’s not going to work on me, Hargrove.”

She says, knowing that all he wants to do is get in her pants like he does with every other girl at school.

“Hey, I gotta be a gentleman and walk you to the door.”

He smirks, opening his door and getting out, following her to the door. She unlocks the front door, both of them stepping in.

“Let me get the light.”

Dominique says, slipping her heels off finally and turning a lamp on. Billy looks around at the few pictures her dad had on the wall, walking around the living room.

“I’m going to go change really quick. Uh, you can sit if you want. Help yourself to something to drink in the fridge.”

“Why change?”

Billy asks in a low tone, striding over to her.

“What?”

Billy steps up to Dominique, his arm wrapping around her waist. His other hand playing with the end of her hair. His lips softly touch her neck, sucking the skin softly. A smile creeps up on Dominique’s face, forgetting about all the shitty things that had happened earlier in the night. Billy shrugs his leather jacket off his body, the upper half of his sun kissed body bare. Dominique snaps back to reality, realizing that this isn’t something that she wanted.

“Um, Billy. That’s not happening.”

She says, stepping back from him, the aura in the room super awkward. He looks down at the ground and groans, his foot tapping the floor quickly.

“I knew that’s why you wanted me to invite you in. Because you wanted to bang me. But no, I was just at stupid as all the other girls you con into fucking you by letting you in my house.”

“What, you think you’re better than those other girls because you won’t let me bang you? News flash sweetheart, you’re not. I could get any piece of ass I wanted to, and they would gladly get on their knees for me”

He responds, the tone of his voice angry. Dominique laughs sarcastically, her arms folding across her chest.

“Okay, good for you. Why don’t you go to one of your booty call’s houses and go fuck them. Because you’re not getting any from me, jack off. Just because you did something nice for me doesn’t mean I have to bend over for you. I don’t owe you shit.”

“I didn’t say you owe me anything!”

Billy shouts, grabbing his jacket from the floor and holding it in his hand.

“You didn’t say it, but you just showed me that you think I owe you something by sucking on my neck.”

Dominique shouts back. Who the hell did he think he was? Just because every other girl at school wanted to be another notch in his belt didn’t mean that she wanted to.

“Jesus! Are you always this bitchy when you’re drunk? Or are you an even bigger bitch when you’re sober?”

“Are you always this much of a dick when you’re drunk? Or are you an even bigger dick when you’re sober?”

She says, mocking his tone.

“Get the fuck out of my house. Where the fuck do you get off yelling at me in my own house? Fuck off.”

Dominique yells, bending down and throwing one of her shoes in his direction, completely missing him. Billy opens his mouth to respond to her but chuckles instead, licking his lips and turning toward the door. He mutters “bitch” as he walks out the door, slamming it closed. Dominique clenches her jaw in anger, wanting to follow him outside and go off on him more, but by the time she reaches the door she can hear the roar of his engine and the tires screeching out of her driveway. Dominique turns around and picks her shoes up off the floor, walking into her room and tossing them in the corner. Immediately she strips herself of her all black outfit, feeling comfortable for the first time all night.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcanons #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things headcanons #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #safe haven fan fic

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itsworn · 7 years

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Bob Ida’s 1940 Gasser Willys

In 1965, 21 year old Bob Ida was at a crossroads in his racing career. He was having a blast running the BB/GS class with his blown 409-powered 1956 Chevy. But the always weight-conscious Bob felt he was at a disadvantage with the Chevy sedan body and chassis he was running. He believed without a doubt that to stay on top in the Gasser wars he needed to get lighter.

The mid 1960’s saw a surge in the popularity of pre-war Willys race cars. The two and four doors were a big hit with the race crowd, due to not only their good looks and “speeding while standing still” profile, but their light weight as well. The advantage of being able to add weight where you needed it was a big draw to serious drag racers. Its skinnier waist line gave the racer options he didn’t have with many of the other wanna-be race cars that had the looks, but were just too hefty where it didn’t count.

Tipping the scales on the light side definitely gave you a big advantage with the Willys, but their reasonable asking price was also a big plus for a young hot rodder like Bob, who was scraping by with just his own day-job’s weekly salary to fund his race program.

Bob chose the four-door over the more popular coupe. Though he loved the two-doors styling, he was always concerned about how the coupe handled. “From my previous observations of other fat fender coupes making runs down the track, I noticed that when guys didn’t latch their trunk lid, the trunk would lift as they made their runs. This made me concerned that the rear of the coupes was shaped like an airplane wing and the body was creating lift”, states Bob. After driving both styles, he felt the sedan was a much more stable ride at top speeds.

The Willys was quickly sent over to his dad’s gas station/garage in Brooklyn, New York for its metamorphosis into a capable race car. He and his 14 year old cousin Vinnie Quarato worked diligently on the car outside on the station’s property during the day, and then loaded the car into the back of a box truck for safe keeping at night. Many of the parts for the Willys were picked off of Bobs 56, including of course the blown W-series motor.

And how did that particular powerplant come to be? And how did a high schooler get his hands on it? Well, that’s a story in itself. Bob tells it this way, “In high school I would stash away the lunch money my parents would give me, and make it through the day on handouts from the girls.” The young ladies knew Bob was saving for his race car and had no problem helping him see his dreams become a reality. He also tuned local racer’s 348 powered 1961 Impalas to match-race Corvettes.

With that stash of cash, $752 to be exact, Bob purchased a 409 from a local Chevy dealer and then went to work on it. He had to supercharge it, to run with the Gassers out there. “It was the most exciting class out there by far. People would just leave their seats and hug the fence when the Gassers ran. I wanted to be part of that,” claims Bob.

So he tore down his 409, and tried to figure out a way to lower the compression enough to run a blower. He decided on purchasing a 409 truck block which had low compression notches machined in. He then started piecing together the motor using parts from his original 409. The biggest issue here was getting the compression low enough to run the blower successfully. With no aftermarket parts to supercharge a 409, Bob had to use his noggin.

Luckily Bob worked right around the corner from performance expert Jack Merkel. Jack came up with the idea of machining the piston tops down to lower the compression enough to add the needed boost. Good friend Tony Eck, did the machine work, and then Jack balanced the rotating assembly. From there Bob took over, assembling the short block, building a custom manifold from a 348, and sourcing a 6-71 supercharger from a bus scrapyard. Bob disassembled the blower, had it anodized, and then rebuilt it. A small-block Weiand drive and magneto were modified to work with the 409. Lastly, a Hillborn four-port fuel injection unit was ordered and installed. Now Bob had an engine he could work with.

When it came to the transmission, the young Ida showed both his creativity, and ingenuity. Bob knew the Hydrostick was the transmission he wanted to run. He decided to build his own. Not having any real “trans” tools, he had to use his resourcefulness. He first harvested a GMC truck’s Hydramatic transmission and went to work. “I used a tire machine to compress the clutch packs to get the snap ring off. I made all the modifications myself and rebuilt the transmission using military tank clutches that I bought from an army surplus store.” Needless to say, Bob’s work was perfection, and the trans worked flawlessly.

The chassis also needed an overhaul. Bob soon realized he had to cut out both the X-member and front crossmember to fit the engine and transmission. “We always felt the motor really kept this ride from falling apart…that is, they both needed each other for support,” chuckles Bob. Up front, the straight axle was stock, and the front springs were then re-arced for height. Wedges were used between then axle and spring to increase caster for better hi-speed handling. A converted Corvair box helped out with the steering. Bob admits, his racer was “easy to drive,” compared to other racer’s rides.

Out back, a 1957 Olds rear, running a 1964 Pontiac posi center section, stuffed with 4.88 gears got the power to the pavement. “I preferred the posi over the locked rear for safety reasons; that is, it was easier to steer,” states Bob. Axles were 31 spline pieces that were custom made to fit. At the corners were drum brakes, stock Olds out back, and stock Willys up front. To grab the pavement, Bob used Top Fuel tires on American Racing mag wheels. Skinny Cragars were run up front.

The interior was Spartan at best. A set of Stingray seats kept Bob pointed forward, and a roll bar kept him “safe.” Between the buckets was the Hydrogate shifter. Three gauges gave him all the info he needed; tachometer, oil pressure, and temperature. A PTO cable from a truck would turn the fuel on and off. He also had a kill switch for the Vertex magneto.

On race days, Bob would stop at a Sunoco station and fill up on 104 octane. “We would also bring one set of fresh plugs,” says Bob. The team would warm up on last week’s old plugs and when ready to run, would throw in a new set. And how did the young guns do with the Willys? “We set the New York Track record during an IHRA event ,0.2 seconds under the NHRA record. Because there were so many supercharged cars in the area, we elected not to set the NHRA record any lower. That gave us an advantage when it came to running Super Eliminator. The rules said you could run up to 0.09 under without getting disqualified. We liked that and did that often.”

Over the next two years, Bob ran the Willys all over the East Coast, racking up wins by the handful. Over the course of its run, he experimented with the sedan. Changing out the front Cragars for smaller rims, he noticed something interesting; the smaller the front rim got, the faster the car went. That observation was crucial in Bob deciding on what his next quarter-mile terror would be; the famed “Hemi Healy.” With its low stance up front, the compact racer would not only launch Bob’s love of British hot rods, but it would also bring him to speeds he had never seen before.

Now 50 years later, Bob had an itch to revisit what it was like to run a Willys sedan. So he made an effort to scout out and procure a usable 1940 to start his project. It also came with a ‘glass nose like his original. Over a two year span, Bob labored over the car, recreating his original four-door dominator. From the driveline, to the chassis, to the body, this new Willys is everything the original was. There was only one deviation on this particular build; adding “409” to the tasty hood lettering. That’s it!

Today Bob is already enjoying the fruits of his labor, but he knows he couldn’t have done it alone. Special thanks go out to his son Rob, who motivated him to recreate his old four-door racer. Another big shout out goes to Nick Mannarino at Modern Performance in Long Branch, New Jersey, for handling the 409’s machine work. And lastly, a special salute to “cousin” Vinnie Quataro, who suddenly passed away this spring. Vinnie was always by Bob’s side during his racing years and continued as a life-long friend. His help was crucial in bringing back this truly remarkable 1960’s racer.

Bob always ran Cragars on the fronts, but they changed over time. “We ran 145 x 15 tire at first, and later we went to 13-inch to get the front of the car lower. It was a quick test we did without upsetting the front suspension. Every time we lowered the front the car picked up MPH. That what lead us to build the Hemi Healy.”

Bob sourced out the same American Racing mags he ran back in the mid-60’s, and then shod them in 1200×16 Top Fuel tires.

Only the basics here; a set of seats, a few gauges, shifter, pedals, and a roll bar. Bob sourced green plexiglass as well, just like the original had. The brake pedal had to be relocated due to the firewall setback.

The Willys uses its original straight axle in the front end set-up and sports re-arced springs for height. “We used wedges between the axle and spring to increase the caster for better hi-speed handling. I also used a converted Covair box to handle the steering chores. The location of the box, the shape of the pitman arm and the angle of the drag link was critical to eliminate bump steer,” says Bob.

Bob got some additional surprises when he initially tore down the Willys. “I had purchased my sedan from another racer from down south as a bone stock 1940 sedan. When I was stripping it down, Vinny and I realized that it was a former rum runner equipped with additional tanks. Vinny and I also found a lot of snake skins in the interior.”

Nothing screams 60’s drag racing like a blown Willys gasser. Bob chose the four-door sedan over the coupe for its aerodynamics, feeling that the sedan version had less rear end lift, and the back stayed down better at high speeds.

Just like it was in 1967. Bob recreated his suspension, rebuilding his homemade ladder bars, and using the same Olds rear to put the power to the blacktop. Even his parachute attachment is per original spec.

Alan’s a household name to hot rodders on the East Coast, as he’s been lettering up racers and doing custom art work since the early 60’s. Bob’s called him in several times to recreate original lettering on his cars. Alan just knocked this one out of the park.

Bob Ida bought his all-steel Willys sedan for a bargain price, and then quickly replaced the nose and fenders with fiberglass pieces for added weight reduction. The hue is a modified Cadillac fire mist color. Bob liked it because he said it made the workhorse Willys appear “rich looking.”

Bob Ida was a trailblazer when it came to supercharging a 409. Many of its pertinent parts were custom made, and mostly by Bob himself. To lower the compression, the pistons were cut down from stock. The original rotating assembly was then balanced by well-known engine builder Jack Merkel. The 6-71 blower came from a bus graveyard, and was then fitted with a Weiand small-block drive. The magneto is also a small block piece. Bob made everything work together in unison to produce a boatload of power out of this W-series engine.

Bob used all his ingenuity to make this 409 purr. “I fit 427 valves into the heads and made custom spacers which allowed me to use Hemi springs and a higher lift cam. I also used screw in studs from the 427 engine. I ported and polished the heads and installed them on the block. Then I had Chet Herbert grind me a special hi-lift blower cam, bigger than any other for a 409,” states Bob. “Once I had the heads on and the cam in, I had to come up with a set of rocker arms and pushrods. I used a set of 427 aluminum Rocker arms that were higher ratio than 409 rockers. Then came the pushrods, I found that one of the 427 pushrods were exactly the length that I needed for my 409 custom valve train.”

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