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gretavangroupie · 1 year

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Vigilance (Chapter 6)

Word count: 14.1k

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, language, fluff, angst, smut, violence.

This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

FEBRUARY 2021

You hit send, delivering the new hire paperwork to your new boss from the comfort of your brand new apartment. The final class of your degree and your advisor was able to help set you up to accept an internship at Collective Artist Management. The company you had your eye on for months. You had set up email alerts last fall hoping to see the listing for an intern come up, and on that lonely New Years Day you saw the job posting. You applied immediately knowing there would likely be hundreds of people desperate for the opportunity.

You spoke to your advisor about it, and somehow she knew someone and the internship was suddenly yours. The only stipulation being that you would finish out your degree and move to Nashville, Tennessee. A city you had never been to, with no friends, no family and no sense of comfort. But maybe this was the fresh start you needed, still haunted by the ghosts living in your hometown.

Things with Jake never got better, never seeing him again after that fateful day. Never even speaking about it. He left for tour and you left for school. All there was was silence. Your heart broke into a million pieces. You thought you'd be with him forever. Funny how life takes your plans and turns them inside out.

You dreaded each holiday spent at home, knowing there would be a chance they would all be there. But to your surprise they never were. Three Thanksgivings passed with empty place mats, Christmas came and went each year, never to see any of their smiling faces. They had moved on from this life and had started anew. Sam kept in touch the first few months after you and Jake ended things, but eventually he dropped off too. You tried not to take it personally, knowing that they were onto bigger and better things, but you still felt that pang of sadness not only of losing Jake, but losing your best friend too.

For a while you would watch them through social media. Watch them tour, watch them live out the dream they always told you they would. But at a certain point it started to do more harm than good. So, you did what you had to do and you blocked them. All of them. It hurt and you hated it but you couldn’t bear it anymore. They changed. You changed. You weren’t in their orbit anymore. It was easier to not know, than to know anything at all.

So you put your head into the books, burying yourself in your classes, soaking up every bit of knowledge you could. Ending each semester with perfect grades and the years breezing by. You always imagined yourself in Los Angeles or maybe even New York. Never Nashville. But again, life has a funny way of skewing your plans, so here you found yourself. A new city with new people, wishing and hoping that maybe you would be able to fill the hole in your heart with new friends and new lovers. Leaving the past behind you, as much as it hurt.

—

The first week of your internship was spent going over everything crucial to know in the job. Where to be, where not to be and who you should and should not talk to. You learned about the labels you worked with, labels you no longer worked with and you met your boss, Allison.

You would be working as an Artist Liaison Intern. A long fancy title for unpaid coffee runner, and fulltime errand girl. In reality you would be helping coordinate flights, travel visas, help schedule cars and bus transportation, even help plan parties. There were really no limits on this job title and you were more than thrilled to be working with Collective. You knew after your first year of college that you wanted to work in music. Work with bands and artists like the ones you grew up with. While it hurt to think that they helped pave this path for you, you thought that maybe the pain of it all was just the universe pushing you towards the life you were destined to have.

Your boss Allison started each day with a checklist of what needed to get done, and then would delegate tasks to you. Recently they had all been tasks that would eventually come together to build the pieces of the Label Release Party. A party for all of the bands and artists releasing new albums in the coming year for that particular label. The client for this quarter's party was UMG.

You were handed a binder of information from the last party and began to delve into the specifics of what exactly needed to get done. Each day was spent alongside Allison and her team building the foundation of this party taking place in just two months. Over 30 artists would be there, and UMG had no budget, so you and the team almost had full reign over the entirety of the party.

The nights were long and the interns from other departments became the new friends you were hoping for all along. Dragging you to bars after work each night, drinking away the stress of each day. You were beginning to feel happy here in this new city. Happy with your new friends, and happy with the life you were building for yourself. Allison had mentioned the possibility of the internship turning into a full time position more than once so you were sure to be on your ‘A’ game at all times, really hoping that you wouldn't have to leave at the end of all of this.

As the date of the party drew nearer, so did the anxiety. Was everything perfect? Would the label be happy? Couple that with the stress of your impending Graduation and you were borderline losing it. Allison seemed more than happy with your work and with the party only a few days away, everything began to fall into place exactly as you hoped it would.

—-

APRIL 2021

Smoothing your black dress out with your palms, you look yourself over in your full length mirror one last time before rushing out the door. You wobble down the stairs in your heels and make quick strides to your car. As you put the key in the ignition you slide your heels off and throw them into the passenger seat. You back out of the parking space and try to remember to take deep breaths. Everything you had worked for was banking on tonight. The fate of your job was banking on this. One slip up could make or break you, and you would be damned if you let another good thing get away.

Your heels clacked loudly against the tile floor of the lobby. The label had insisted on the party being hosted somewhere ‘cool and hip’ so when Allison suggested The Blue Room at Third Man Studios they were instantly sold. It was large enough to hold a crowd but intimate enough to feel exclusive. As you stepped into the main space you saw all the decorations and all of the things you had been preparing come to life. The signs, the food, the table placement… everything was perfect.

Allison rushed over as soon as she saw you, frantic with her hands full of paperwork. “We have an hour until artists start showing up. Do you have the flash drive?” she asks.

“Of course, it’s in my bag. I got it from Hazel this morning.” You say handing her the small metal drive.

“Thank god, you’re a lifesaver. I really couldn’t have done all of this without you.” she says, accepting it and walking off, before turning to look over her shoulder. “By the way, the job is yours, welcome to the team.”

Your jaw dropped and she smiled and walked away rushing off to the sound booth. You did it.

You spent much of the evening on cloud nine, running around tending to the needs of the guests and helping with catering and even at the bar. The slideshow went off without a hitch and the artists seemed more than happy with the display the team had procured for each one of them. You watched in awe as each artist flashed across the screen, standing to be recognized. As it reached the final few artists a name flashed across the screen that almost took your breath away. The single from the impending album played in the background as the slide read ‘Greta Van Fleet’.

You’re sure the blood drained from your face as you nervously scanned the room looking for the guys and their representation. In the far left corner of the room you saw Josh, standing with his drink accepting the applause the crowd gave him. He looked so different since the last time you saw him. Granted it had been almost three years since you blocked them all, never once searching them or the band knowing it would send you back to square one. Hearing their new music playing now was the first you had heard them in years. Josh’s voice had matured and their sound had become rock solid. They truly did make it. The guitar playing sent a shock right to your heart though, reminding you that you could very well be in the same room as him right now. You scanned the table where Josh sat but found only him. Part of you was thankful that it was only him but the other part of you felt punched in the gut at the stupid hopefulness you felt.

As your eyes fixate on Josh, you quickly realize that if he sees you he will want to talk so you tear your eyes away hoping to keep a low profile for the rest of the night. You keep your head low working at the bar and keeping to yourself, that is until Allison found you, pulling you away from your quiet task.

“Want to go meet some of the people you will be working with? Wait, you want the job right?” she asks.

“Of course I do! Yes!” you reply eagerly.

“Then let's go!” she says pulling you behind her.

She ushers you around the room, introducing you to executives, co-workers you hadn’t met yet, and even a few artists you’d be working with. Your head was spinning as you tried to process all the new information coming in while simultaneously keeping an eye out for Josh, doing your damndest to avoid him.

After a few hours people began to slowly filter out and you started to collect empty place settings and pack the nameplates back into the little box you plucked them from. Feeling like the coast was clear you slipped your heels off as you worked paying no mind to the few guests still lingering near the bar.

You heard the doors open to the room and you saw the familiar fluff of curls cross the room, back to the table he was previously seated at, scanning over it before grabbing his keys. As you watched him, his eyes flicked upward meeting yours.

You look away quickly hoping he wouldn’t recognize you, but you kick yourself because it’s Josh, and you knew he would. He inevitably makes his way over to you, rushing, pushing chairs out of the way in order to get to you as quickly as possible.

“Y/N?” he questions, as he stands in front of you.

You turn slowly to face him, as you nod. “Hi, Josh.”

Expecting to be met with anger or resentment you furrow your brow waiting for his next words, but instead of that you are met with a beaming smile.

“Oh my god, it is you. I…I thought it was you earlier, but I couldn’t tell. I convinced myself that it couldn’t be. I… Oh my god, how are you? What are you doing here?” he asks, shocked.

“Well…I kind of live here now. I work for Collective Artist Management.” you say nervously. “I graduate next month.”

His hand reaches out and lands on your arm, and you smile to yourself. Typical Josh, always touching. “Y/N, that is amazing! You fucking did it, huh!” he says gripping your arm. “You live here? In Nashville?”

“Yeah, I moved here at the end of January, beginning of February… something like that. Been working and trying to meet new people and get to know my new city.” you reply.

“How did we end up in the same city again?” he laughs, a sound you have sorely missed.

A smile strung across your face at the sound, bringing back the memories you have tried so hard to bury deep inside your brain. He pulls his phone from his pocket, and taps the screen a few times before flashing it to you. “Is this still your number?” he asks.

You examine the screen seeing your name and the emojis you selected all those years ago, still sitting peacefully next to it. “Yep, that’s me.” you reply.

“Good, can we uh… can I text you? Maybe we can get drinks tomorrow or something?” he asks.

“Yeah, that would be fine. I’m sure I have a lot to catch up on.” you laugh.

A giggle leaves his chest as he replies, “Yeah, just a bit. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yep, talk to you then.” you say, before being pulled into his chest for a hug. As his arms wrap around your neck you catch a whiff of him, and you are instantly catapulted back to a time you have tried so hard to forget.

He releases you and walks away shoving his hands in his pockets tossing you a smile over his shoulder.

Your mind is positively reeling, you had no idea that he lived in Nashville. Where were the others? When did they move here? Obviously they had made it pretty big if they were signed with UMG…

As the night wrapped up and you drove yourself home you let your mind wander down those old dusty paths you had roped off for so long. You thought of Sam and your last conversation with him about Elle. How things weren’t going too well and things were only getting harder.

You thought of Danny and Josh and the last time you heard them play. But mostly you thought of Jake and how you left things, broken and beyond repair.

As you showered the night off of you, you thought some more, wondering if meeting Josh for drinks was a good idea. Not sure if you wanted to reopen those old wounds. Though the more you thought about it, years had passed. You had changed. He had clearly changed, filling out more and carrying himself more authentically. You felt compelled to know this new Josh so you decided you would go, and you would leave the past behind you.

—-

The text from Josh came in the early afternoon, startling you from your book.

Josh: Fable Lounge at 8?

You: See you then!

You rifled through your closet for what had to be an hour. What the hell do you wear to meet up with an old friend in a new city? At a swanky bar nonetheless? Your bed was littered with different items of clothing strewn about, a pile for maybe, a pile for no, a pile for absolutely not. After a half hour of madness, you finally decided on some tight jeans with a black tank and green bomber jacket. You let your hair hang naturally, it had grown quite long, and you decided to let your natural waves be. Simple makeup and some winged eyeliner, and you were out the door.

Thankfully, Josh was already at the bar when you arrived, having a casual conversation with the bartender pouring his drink. You walked up and took the stool to his right, trying to take him by surprise.

“Heyyyy, there she is!” He brought you in for a hug. “It’s so good seeing a familiar face in town. Whatcha drinking tonight?”

“Rum and Coke” you reply.

He nods his head to the bartender and he begins to make it. The two of you sat, drank, and laughed, catching up on each other's lives. After a round or two, you felt your body begin to relax.

“Don’t have anyone steady in your life?” he asked, sipping from the side of his glass.

“No, nothing serious.” You suddenly became shy, and he knew why. “Things just haven’t felt right...in a while. Ya know?”

“Do I know?” He asked from the side of his mouth.

You sighed heavily. “Of course you know, Josh. You’ve always known.” you reply.

He smiled his know-it-all smile, “Hmm... Well… maybe you’ve found yourself back in the right place again.” He smirked, and lightly clinked his glass to yours. The blood drained from your face. What on earth did that mean?

You heard the door open behind you, catching Josh’s attention as a smile played upon his lips. Turning to see what he was looking at, the blood drained from your face. Oh. My god. In walked Danny, Sam, Jake, and…a girl. On Jake’s arm.

“SURPRISE! Look who I found!” Josh moved his stool to reveal you, as all of their jaws dropped simultaneously.

“Josh, what the fuck!” You said quietly in his ear, gritting your teeth through a fake smile.

Rounds of hugs came quickly from Sam and Danny, while Jake and the mystery girl stayed quietly far enough away that they didn’t feel the need to partake in your greetings.

Sam immediately made his way over to your barstool. You inhaled a quick breath to prepare yourself for this. You spun the swivel stool and faced him. What you came face to face with wasn't at all what you expected.

He was taller, had filled out a bit, and god damn, he was absolutely gorgeous. His hair was a bit longer, rested below his shoulders, and was finger-tousled. His skin seemed to glow, especially in this lighting. It looked so soft, you had to stop yourself from reaching out to touch it. He had just a little bit of dark peach fuzz around his lips and chin that countered the silken look of his skin, but it suited him well. His eyes, though. They hadn’t changed. Deep brown, sanpaku shaped, and they still squinted into little half moons when he smiled too hard. Which he did, the second you turned to face him.

“Y/N?! Are you kidding me?! What are you doing here? With Josh, nonetheless!” He shoved Josh’s shoulder from behind, causing him to choke a little on the drink he was swallowing.

“Why didn’t you tell me we had an old friend in town?!” Sam asked him without taking his eyes off of you.

His fucking smile.

He was grinning ear to ear, genuinely happy to see you. His perfectly straight and white teeth sat behind his gorgeous lips. You always envied the hell out of his smile.

Before you could speak, he was lifting you off the stool into a giant bear hug that felt more like a back-cracking than a formal hello. He set you back down to your feet and you gathered yourself, flustered by his newfound confidence.

“Surprise? I guess?” You returned his beaming smile, and you felt him lower his head and catch your eyes, taking you all in. In another unexpected instance, you found his hand on yours, lifting it to spin you around. When you had done your full turn, he met your gaze again.

“You look spectacular. Haven’t changed a bit,” he said with a knowing wink.

But, you had changed. Though you had long since lost your freshman 15, you had gained it back in all the right places, finally forming into the full shape of a grown woman. You’d let your hair grow, and decided to change up your style a bit. New city, new you, of course.

Sam took the bar stool next to you, leaving the rest of his group behind. You cleared your throat, mind flashing with dread as you caught Jake in your peripheral, sitting three stools down. Thankfully Josh and Danny separated the two of you. Sam motioned to the bartender and ordered a tequila soda. Next, his elbow was on the bar, head leaning into his hand, looking directly at you. You downed the rest of your drink as you met his gaze.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He said quietly through a giant smile.

“Well, my internship brought me here, actually. Remember I was in school? I majored in Music Management and Marketing, so I took an internship and I’ve been working at Collective Artist Management learning how the logistics of the industry work.” you say proudly.

You sipped hard on your skinny straw, getting nothing but watered-down rum. “I basically buy plane tickets, help plan tours and throw big parties for a living now. Anyways, we hosted UMG’s new release party the other night. And, lo and behold, I ran into Josh. Well, he ran into me. We got to talking… He invited me out for drinks. But- he failed to tell me he was bringing the whole family. I didn’t even know you guys lived here.” You rolled your eyes to the side to look toward Josh, but he didn’t hear you.

“That’s amazing. Leave it to the universe. So, you’re living here now?” His gaze was dreamy and intense, like he was hanging on your every word. He folded the straw in half over the lip of his glass, and sipped it from the side.

“Yeah. For now, at least.” You grinned at him, and he returned it.

The drinks continued to flow, and the conversation did too. Danny had made his way over to you, embracing you in one of his all-too-familiar bear hugs and it felt like no time had passed at all. Josh told 5 or 6 stories, Danny announced that he was finally going to purchase his dream guitar tomorrow, and Sam explained, in detail, all the restaurants you just had to try as soon as humanly possible.

Jake…and the girl, Sophia, you learned….stayed put in their seats, adding very little to the conversation, and never once giving you the greeting everyone else did.

“Shots?! Anyone want a shot? Let’s do shots.” Classic Samuel. He clapped his hands together, successfully signaling the bartender. Your face was now well on its way to feeling warm and numb from the liquor, and you threw your head back in aggravated laughter. The bar had gotten significantly more crowded, and the atmosphere was heady.

“Sam, I have to get up tomorrow!” You objected while the bartender lined up the shot glasses.

“Yeah, at what, 11am? You’ll be fine, don't be a baby.” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes. What was this, high school again?

“Besides, we’re celebrating! It’s a reunion!” He slapped the bar top candidly.

The six of you crowded into a small circle and raised the tiny glasses into the air. You ever so briefly made eye contact with Jake from across the circle, and he looked away as soon as your eyes could focus.

“To new memories and old friends, may we be ever compliant with what time throws toward us, and may we accept with grace and dignity!” Josh bellowed, slightly slurry. Everyone clinked glasses and downed the warm liquor. You welcomed it, though these people felt like home, you couldn’t have felt more out of place.

You turned back to the bar, wiping your mouth of the droplets that had escaped your lips. Sam joined you in his original seat. His eyes were locked onto the side of your face and you almost felt them burning holes into the side of your skull.

“What, Samuel?” You said sharply through a tight smile.

He smiled a curt half smile, his eyes hooded but confident. “Let’s get out of here.” He nodded his head toward the door. You might have choked on your spit if you had been a tad bit more drunk. Your eyebrows raised in shock.

“What? L-like...leave? You and-” you motioned to yourself and him, questioning if you had heard him right.

“I hate this fuckin bar. It’s too uptown for me. Not my style, ya know?” Sam said, standing up and pulling out his wallet. “I know someplace else that is more our speed.”

You were speechless, unsure of what to say. But you were well on your way to being more than tipsy, feeling just right, on the brink of confidence overtaking your personality. What the hell, right? You could afford to learn about a few new bars in town, and you were with your best friend. Well, old best friend. And the man at the other end of the bar couldn’t seem to care less if he spoke to you tonight or not. Not that you cared.

After Sam paid his bill and yours, which you didn’t object to out of old habit, he clinked the pen closed and replaced his wallet. “Let’s go!”

In a rush of hands whisking you from your chair, the two of you were quickly pacing toward the door, hand in hand.

“See you guys later, we’re going to get into some trouble. Get the bail money ready, bitches!” Sam hollered to his brothers still seated at the bar.

You didn’t know what to add except a quick shrug and a passing wave of goodbye. You met Jake’s eyes as Sam pulled you past, and the look on his face was unreadable. Pissed? Maybe. Sad, confused, silent.

The outside air was enough to sober you up and make you feel more drunk all at once. The two of you paced down the sidewalk quickly; your arm tucked under Sam’s.

“Where are we going?” You pressed.

“A fun place. Don’t worry about it.” His hair was blowing in the chilled air, and his face was as happy as you remembered it to always be. Carefree Sammy, always so eloquently unbothered by anything.

As you walked into the next bar, you were met with a darker, more relaxed atmosphere. The place was small, and instantly felt cozy. Wooden walls, a lava lamp on the bar, plastic chairs at the tables, and a jukebox on the far wall. Ah, yes. Definitely more your speed.

“Rum and coke?” Sam asked as you approached the bar.

“Yes please.” you responded.

The night continued on, the two of you laughing, sharing old stories, getting significantly more intoxicated…but neither of you daring to touch on the subject that was lingering in the air.

Honestly, you didn’t want to bring it up. You knew it would happen sooner or later, but time had passed. Things had changed. People had moved on. You were adults now. And you were enjoying yourself, things were light and airy and giggly with your old friend again. It felt like old times. Cheerful, breezy, nostalgic. Sam brought about an air of peace that you had so missed.

“I can’t buhlieve my old friends are FAYYYMOUS!” you raised your voice overtop of the old rock song playing from the jukebox, hand landing on Sam’s knee.

He looked at you a little sideways.

“Have you really not kept up with our music, Y/N?” He acted a little offended. “We’ve toured the world, released two albums...we kinda uh, won a Grammy...” he laughed through the last word.

Your eyes widened and your stomach flipped. How could you tell him that you’ve been actively ignoring and going out of your way to block out every word involving their band name on your social media? How could you explain that seeing their faces on your screen or hearing them play in your car brought back such sickening memories that it put you in depressive episodes for days?

Even seeing them here, now, in the flesh made you feel so uneasy it was hard to think straight.

“I heard one of your songs playing in the grocery store once.” You swallowed hard. “Safari Song, I think? It was wild, just minding my own business, picking through the fruit bins, listening to my old best friends play on the radio in a super public setting.”

He was silent.

“I knew you guys had made it, but honestly, I...kind of… Don’t seek you out. It really just…hurts? Kind of. I don’t know. After everything.” you stammer.

Sam placed his hand on your knee and leaned forward. “No, I get it. I really do. It would be strange. But, hopefully one day you’ll come to a show. Let us show off for you a little bit?” He smiled a cheesy smile.

You half cocked a smile back, and put a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah! Maybe one day.”

You knew going to see them play would be absolutely mind blowing. Watching their fans go nuts, hearing their new music and how they’ve grown as musicians, watching Jake. Your stomach felt sick at the thought.

When the night was growing toward a close, and the bar had begun to empty, you and Sam found yourselves two of the only few people left at the bar, heavily and drunkenly engaged in a game of quarter bounce. You’d had a blast with him this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed how the neon was glowing off of his skin, radiating and accentuating his perfectly developed features.

Or how sexy it looked when he pulled his hair back into a low bun when the game got intense, a few strands falling into his face…You sincerely flushed when he kissed you on the cheek after making three quarters in a row. He beamed with contentment, comfort, warmth. Never letting the smile fall from his face the whole night. He was being his goofy self, making you laugh until your stomach muscles hurt, but all the while you found yourself intensely and overwhelmingly attracted to him. For the first time you saw him. Not his brother.

“You cheated! That’s not fair!” He practically yelled. “You don’t get three chances, it’s in the rule book!”

“What rule book, Sam? The rule book doesn’t exist!” You slurred through hearty giggles, knowing well and good that you had in fact, cheated.

He walked over to you slowly, taking his pointer finger and playfully poking you in random spots across your face. You tried to swat him away, to no avail.

“Cheater!” *poke*

“Pumpkin!” *poke*

“EATER!” he taunted.

You grabbed his hand to pull it from your face, he knew he was pissing you off. He sturdied his arm, which in turn pulled your whole body into him. You suddenly found yourselves chest to chest, faces impossibly close.

His nose bumped yours, and normally you would back off, feeling awkward and embarrassed. But his eyes darted down to your lips, and back up to your eyes. Your lips were mere centimeters from his. You could feel his breath, warm and heavy, exhaling lightly onto your partially parted lips. His eyes traveled slowly back down to your lips, and you felt his sturdied arm relax. Your heart began to pound in your ears. You’ve never been this close to Sam before. His hand was still on yours, and without moving his face away, he turned your hand into his, and interlaced your fingers. You swallowed hard, tasting the essence of his tequila on your tongue.

“I don’t like pumpkin.” was all you could whisper before his lips were crashing onto yours in the most heated, yet cautious way. His lips were warm and soft, and he let out a small exhale through his nose at the contact. God, your stomach fell straight to the floor; he felt so sweet. You felt his body relax, and his fingers tighten around yours. After a few seconds of exhilaration, you parted, the both of you darting your eyes back and forth between each others. Each of you exploded into lighthearted and drunken giggles. He let your hand go, and you stood, taking all of him in with your eyes.

“I love pumpkin,” he said through a chuckle.

——

A ten minute walk down the sidewalk, and a short but exhausting trek down side streets found you and Sam approaching his front door. A little bungalow of a place tucked away from the main part of whatever neighborhood you were in. You were still sufficiently intoxicated, probably more so than you truly needed to be. But you were high on the night, on the festivities, and on Sam’s lips. You suddenly felt all your inhibitions melting into the ground below you.

“This is me,” he said, fumbling with the keys as he unlocked the door. When you got inside, he walked over to a tiny lamp and switched it on, sending a light orange glow into the small but spacious area. You kicked off your shoes and hung your jacket on a chair. You made your way to his couch. You plopped down and let it begin to relax you.

“Another drink, or some water?” He asked lovingly.

“How about both?” You replied.

“Excellent choice.” he smiled, disappearing to the kitchen.

He returned promptly with two glasses full of some type of iced amber liquid and two bottles of water.

“Cheers,” he mumbled quietly as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Cheers, Sammy.” you smiled.

Your head was spinning. From the alcohol, from the kiss, from seeing Jake’s brand new face after so long of not seeing him every day.

The kiss. Your drunken state brought the memory of what happened just now at the bar, amplified, back to the forefront of your mind. You sipped from the glass, then chugged some water. For the second time tonight, you felt Sam’s eyes boring into the side of your face. You slowly turned to look at him. Your face went hot when you met his sultry gaze. Good god, he was so beautiful. Even more so, now, in his matured state and in this dim lighting. You felt your heart flutter.

“Yeeees?” You teased.

Sam rested his head on the back of the couch. His breath hitched. “I’m gonna ask you a question, Y/N. And I need you to answer honestly.”

That shouldn’t be too hard, as the alcohol had given you quite the air of confidence, suddenly at just the perfect spot of leaving you feeling like you had no filter.

He put his head down, and was toying with a frayed string on his shirt. “Did you- ever? Umm... Did you ever feel anything for-”

He was stumbling over his words. You raised your head to look at him with more attention, brows furrowing trying to show him that you were listening.

He huffed. “Did you ever love me, y/n?” Your name rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like he’d spoken it one million times, because in reality, he had.

Your eyes widened. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“I know you loved me, but... I felt so strongly for you for so many years, but I never had the guts to tell you. I was too-” he cut off his words again. You felt like you may pass out at his confession. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his words finally fall.

“You were my absolute best friend. Like, even more so than my brothers or Daniel. It was different with you. I could tell you anything and you’d never pick on me or judge me. I trusted you with my secrets. And I think you trusted me with yours.” he said.

He reached down to grab your hand once again, interlacing your fingers like you had at the bar. “I always thought, you know, one day I’ll do it, I’ll get the balls to tell her. Then- everything happened...” he stammered off, both of your brains revisiting a dark place that you’d had tucked away in the very deepest crevices of your brain.

He turned to look at you now.

“I think I always knew about you and Jake. Even before he told me. At the time, I don’t think I did. But looking back now, I think I knew it. In my bones, ya know? I just kept lying to myself because I always thought it’d be you and me in the end.”

You felt a tear fall directly from your eye and onto your chest. He gingerly brought his hand up to your face and wiped it away.

“After all this time, and even after Elle and our careers and everything getting busy and taking off..I think I realized that I’m not in love with you anymore. I finally feel…like I can break myself free of the chains you held me in for so many years.” He smiled, his words weren’t meant to hurt you, just let you know. “I think I finally fell away from you, y/n. And it feels…”

“It feels what, Sammy?” You asked through another tear.

He huffed again.

“Huh, I dunno. Liberating? If that’s the word.” He laughed a little. You couldn’t help but smile. You turned and wiped your tears away, letting out a choppy sigh.

“Dammit, Sam. You made me emotional.” you said, laughing at yourself. You rolled your head back again. You allowed a few moments to pass, silently.

“No.” You said, finally.

“No what?” he asks.

You paused, collecting your words. “I never loved you like that.”

Sam took a deep and quick breath through his teeth, readjusting himself on the couch. “I didn’t think so.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, taking turns sipping your drinks and exchanging looks.

“So, now that we’ve established that we aren’t in love with each other, want to talk about that sweet little kiss at the bar?” Sam said in his normal cheeky tone. You realized you were still holding hands. His thumb was lightly massaging the back of your hand. It felt like pure electricity.

“Honestly Sam, I don’t want to talk about it.” You answered. You took the last bit of your drink, and placed the glass on the coffee table. You took his drink from his hand, and placed it next to yours. You moved your body so that you were able to throw your leg over top of his, and bring yourself to carefully sit on his lap, facing him.

“I just…kind of want to kiss you again.” you said quietly in a questioning tone, watching his face closely to gauge his reaction. Of course, his eyes widened, and the look on his face was hilarious. Pure and utter surprise. His head lulled back against the couch, and once your words and action had settled in his mind, he put on that seductively shy smile.

“Do you, now? I thought we didn’t have feelings for each other?” he peeked at you through one eye, hands beginning to grip tightly on your thighs.

“We don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t find you…attractive.” you twirled a piece of his hair between your fingers. The silky brown strands, thick and plush.

“I’ve always found you attractive, y/n. Caught my eye the first day I saw you.” His hands were squeezing harder now, moving slowly from your straddled knees up to your upper thighs.

“Gorgeous from the get go. All the guys in school fawning over you.” He continued intermittently squeezing the thickness of your thighs, eyes scanning over your whole body as if he was committing every inch to memory.

“Guys coming up to me to see if they could ask you out...as if I’d have any problem with it.” His thumbs had now inched impossibly close to your heat, gripping the fold where your legs met your hips. He dug the pads of his thumbs into your groin, eliciting the tiniest sound to escape your lips.

“Everyone wanted you...but you were mine…my best friend. I can’t tell you how many times I had to stop myself from sneaking you away into the basement…” his hands were still working your muscle at a sickening pace, thumbs rubbing small circles close, but not close enough.

“But I must say, when I saw you at the bar tonight…” his hands moved from your thighs to your ass, gently but tightly squeezing. “…I knew I wasn’t going to be able to take my eyes off of you for the rest of the night.” His voice had grown low and gravely. His normal frivolous attitude had shifted into something darker and more sinister, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely craving seeing more of this side of him.

“Of course I was always attracted to you too, Sam. I mean, God, look at you.” He shied away at your words, a rosy blush filling his cheeks. “Watching you play your guitar was always my favorite. Everyone knows you as the bass player, but I always knew you could do both. Talented at both.” You brought your forehead to rest on his.

“You fell into another world when you played. Played anything, really. So talented. I always caught myself having to drag my eyes away from your hands...” you found his hand and intertwined your fingers again. “Just because I didn’t have the same feelings for you then, doesn’t mean that I never wanted to…do this.” your voice trailed off, sticky and full of lust.

You brought your hands to his face, tracing his beautiful cheekbones with your thumbs. You weren’t sure what had come over you. Curiosity, mostly, and drunken and immense attraction to this man in front of you. Your mind flashed with every warning sign and inhibition it could to stop you from doing this- your friendship with Sam, everything with Andy, the fight, Jake….

You worked to ignore every single red flag your body was throwing at you, and to just go with what felt right right now.

And what felt right was kissing Sam again.

So you did.

This time, it was slow and mellow, testing the waters and seeing how he felt. You slowly moved your lips across his, sweetly taking your time and allowing for this strange adjustment. You pulled away to catch his eyes, and in seconds, he had his hands back on your waist, harshly pulling you closer toward him, and down onto his hardening length in his jeans.

Oh.

He found your lips again, and parted his slightly to allow you more access. You took the opportunity, and deepened the kiss, lightly flicking your tongue across his lips, testing the uncharted waters. He met your tongue with his, and damned if he didn’t taste sweet. Your hands found his hair, and tangled into the roots, which only spurred him on. Your brain was flipping and flying everywhere at once, but you liked it.

He tightened his grip on your waist again, and dug his thumbs into your sides, eliciting a sharp breath from you. You parted, meeting eyes. You both began to laugh, and again, you rested your forehead on his.

“This is...weird.” you said.

“Yep. Very weird.” He parroted back. Suddenly he was lifting you from his lap and laying you down on your back on the couch. He climbed to lay on top of you, and what began as innocent explorative kissing quickly shifted into a heated, frenzied makeout session. Your kisses became raw and wanting, you were both fighting for control as you let your instincts take over.

He was an excellent kisser, and you took advantage of that. All four hands were gripping and fighting and pulling, trying to find any kind of purchase that may assist in getting each other undressed. The sounds he was making were causing you to absolutely pool with desire for him. You were both panting and sweating at this point. Both of you unsure what step to take next. Cautious, flustered, embarrassed… But wholeheartedly comfortable and yearning for him. And him for you.

“Sam,” you asked.

“Y/N” he answered.

“Will you umm, take my shirt off?”

Without another word, he was lifting himself off of you and removing your shirt above your head. You realized he had never seen you in a bra before. His eyes were blown out with lust just from looking at you, and seeing him look at you that way ignited something in your chest.

You felt a strange and wanting passion burning, one that felt uninhibited and carnal. For Sam. With Sam. Your best friend. Why did all of this feel so good?

You decided to go with your gut. You were both consenting adults, just looking for a little fun. What did you have to lose?

SAM POV

Jesus Christ, what is happening right now? Am I dreaming?

She looked absolutely stunning in nothing but her bra. A pretty little maroon lace thing. You gave her a smile and a look of admiration, hoping that she didn’t feel any kind of shyness toward you.

You’ve wanted this for so long, so many years. You thought it was never going to happen. Especially after so much time being apart, but look where the universe has landed you.

“You’re really gorgeous, y/n. Seriously.” you implore.

You were returned a sweet smile. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Her smile made your heart melt. “Can I take yours off?”

“Mmhm, absolutely babe.” She sat up and grasped the shoulders of your tee shirt, pulling up and taking the shirt off. She let it fall to the floor. Her eyes raked over your torso, sparkling slightly in the moody light. Beautiful.

As you took in the sight of her upper half, you noticed something. Right on her ribs. A tattoo.

“What’s that? I never knew you had a tattoo..” you asked.

“Oh yeah...I got that a really long time ago. On a whim-” she tried to push the subject away.

“It’s a constellation, right? Stars…oh it’s the Little Dipper.” you eyebrows furled.

What? Where had you seen this before? Old images fluttered through your mind.

Shit…Jake’s guitar. His carvings.

You lifted your head to speak, to ask her if it was a tattoo for Jake. Did he have the same one? She cut you off before you could ask.

“It’s a long story...for another time, Sam.”

You decided to leave it at that.

She made her way on top of you again now, in the original straddled position. “Hm, you like it here, huh?” You joked, and began peppering her jawline with tiny kisses. She let her head fall back, giving you access to her neck, and you swore you could have taken her right then and there.

Her skin was so soft, and tasted so sweet. And the floral smell of her hair was making your head spin. She cawed a little bit at your touch, which enticed you to bring your hands, ever so carefully, to her breasts. You gave them a small squeeze, and bravely slipped your hands underneath the bra, gently massaging, keeping your mouth on her pressure points.

She inhaled sharply at the new sensation, and gave the prettiest little moan, spurring you on again. You found her nipples, and gently twisted them between your fingers. That, she loved.

“Shhhhit Sam,” she groaned, then backed away and looked directly into your eyes. In seconds her mouth was attached to yours, bringing back the intense kissing from moments ago. These kisses were deep, forceful, and intentional. Your tongues were wrestling, exploring each other’s mouths as your hands began to haphazardly grab anything and everything. You mewled into her mouth as she grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of your head, pulling it back to look at her as she craned over you. She grinded her hips down onto you again, making the need for her all the more difficult to bear. Both of you were insanely starved for one another.

You decided it was time to move. You couldn’t wait any longer, and you had barely done anything but land one foot on second base. You grabbed underneath her thighs, standing and lifting her with you. She giggled. You met eyes again, this time with a question written on your face. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, hands lightly massaging the back of your head.

“Can I take you in my room?” You asked, more confidently than you anticipated.

Her eyelids were half open, her hair a mess, anticipation dripping from her aura.

“Please,” was all she stated.

You walked her down the short hallway into the back bedroom; you were thankful it wasn’t too messy in there. Not like she would care anyway. She never did.

There was only the significantly bright moonlight coming through the windows, and you decided to not turn on the lamp. The pale blue light was already illuminating her skin in the most beautiful way. You gently set her down on the bed, never breaking from her kiss. She began to scoot herself backwards up the bed, you crawling overtop of her, following her lead. When she found herself in a position she was satisfied with, she settled a little bit and broke away.

“Can we get under the covers?” She asked. You smiled knowing you’d give her anything in the world right now.

“Sure, we can,” you replied. “Are you cold?”

“Kinda, just want to feel comfy.” She responded breathlessly. You stood from the bed and reached under her to pull the comforter down. Before crawling underneath, she made a show of unbuttoning her jeans, and pulling them and her panties all the way off. Good god.

You followed suit, undoing your belt and letting your pants and underwear hit the floor. You crawled in next to her, heart pounding, mouth dry, and skin absolutely on fire with want for her. Condom? Yes, in the drawer. Got it.

For a minute, the two of you laid in complete darkness save for the blue light barely tinting the room. Your faces were close, your breathing steady but labored from the intensity of the past half hour. You couldn’t quite see her face in the darkness, but somehow, it made it all the more alluring. Maybe it was better to have one of your senses muddled, it would also help with the anxiety you felt rushing through your bloodstream. I can’t believe this is actually happening. You ran your fingers lightly over her arm, down her side and back up to her face, bringing a sense of intimacy back after the shift.

“You okay with doing this?” She asked shyly.

“I’m absolutely okay with doing this.” You maneuvered to roll her to her back, resting on your elbows on either side of her head, face to face.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but my feelings for you have drifted. They’re almost gone, actually...please don’t take that as anything malicious. I’m still very much in love with the person that you are. You’re one of the most important people in my life, even if the last time we saw each other we left on a…less than high note.” You breathed, long and heavy. “Life’s short, I don’t have any ill feelings toward you. The past is in the past. You’re one of the only people I’ve ever had in my life that I’m completely comfortable with. And to be completely honest, I’ve felt very comfortable learning about you in…this...way…so far…so if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to fuck you senseless.”

She burst out with laughter, covering her face through deep belly laughs. “God, I missed your dumb ass.” She playfully slapped you across the arm. “I feel the same, Sammy. This doesn’t have to be that serious. Just two friends making each other feel good.”

“Exactly.” And you meant it. The only feelings you felt for her right now were lust. Respectful, platonic, gorgeous lust.

“Alright then, come fuck me senseless Sammy.”

You laughed as you dipped down, laying a hot, wet kiss right between her breasts. You landed a few more right beneath the swells, unintentionally finding a sensitive spot. Her back arched.

“Mmm...I plan on it, babe. But first…”

You then drug your tongue right down the center of her chest and stomach, tracing her sternum down to between her hips.

She hummed with surprised anticipation, instinctively running her hands through your hair to pull the strands back that had fallen from the hair tie.

You slowly began to run your tongue along the outsides of her lips, teasing her. She groaned a sound that you didn’t recognize.

“Too personal?” you asked, half joking, half truly wanting permission.

“You really think I’m going to turn this down, Sam?” She responded, giving you the go ahead.

With that, you dipped your tongue languidly straight from her opening to the top, stopping at her clit and running circles over it with slow, intentional waves.

Her body language let you know she was okay with it, as she immediately had a tighter grip on your hair. You began to go to work after that. She tasted like heaven. Just how you’d always imagined. But you’d never tell her that.

You switched between quick and sharp movements to slow, calculated swirls, paying special attention to her reactions and banking them away in your memory. She was writhing, legs falling open as wide as they could only to close again and squeeze around your head. You brought a hand up to tease at her entrance, not entering all the way so as to add to her anticipation.

Her body was shaking and spasming as you felt like you were bringing her closer to the edge. You moved your eyes to look up at her, and she met your gaze. Fucking beautiful. She smiled deviously again, mouth cocked open in pleasure. She gave one last final tug on your hair before she toppled over the edge, her body quivering and vibrating through the orgasm.

You sat up, her hand meeting your mouth to wipe off her wetness.

“Jesus Christ Sam. Tell me again why you never snuck me away to the basement?” She said through pants of exasperated breaths.

You met again in a heated kiss, her pulling you into her by your hair, neck, shoulders…anything she could get ahold of to close the gap between you.

You felt her reach between you and take your length in her hand. She wasted no time in letting you know what she wanted, the strokes of her hand rough and depraved.

“Wait,” you said.

You reached into your bedside table and tore a condom off the long strip, opened its contents and removed it.

“Look at you being responsible...” She giggled as you slid it over yourself.

“Hey, I haven’t talked to you in years, I’m not trying to jeopardize my future love life because of silly old you.” You knew that would get under her skin.

“You asshole!” She punched your shoulder. “I’m clean and healthy, I’ll have you know. I’m the one that should be worried, Mr. ‘We’ve traveled the world and won a Grammy' blah blah bla-"

You quickly placed your free hand over her mouth, effectively muffling her words.

“Shhhhhh, I’m trying to fuck you senseless.” you tease.

No sooner than you had finished your sentence, she bit hard into your hand, pulling your middle finger into her mouth. Her tongue was rolling and nibbling and sucking, it sent a chill down your spine and all the blood rushed straight to your dick. She might kill you tonight.

That was enough to send you over the edge, no more fucking around. You rolled your body on top of her, and pulled your knee up to spread her legs. Your finger was still in her mouth, and your hand was covering it.

“Y/N, are you… a brat?” You grabbed your length in your other hand, and began teasing at her entrance, eliciting a little moan from her. She arched her back into you, looking for more.

She shook her head side to side, “huh uh” she spoke through your hand, smiling giddily. Then she pulled your finger into her mouth impossibly deep, you could feel the back of her tongue on your fingertip. She swallowed. God, your head was spinning like a top.

“Hmm really?” you growled, bringing your mouth to her ear. “Because it seems like you might be.” On your last word, you pressed your dick into her, filling her to the hilt. You left your hand across her mouth, forcing her to stay quiet. Her eyes shot closed at the feeling of you filling her.

You stayed still, taunting her, letting her get used to the feeling. When in all reality, you were taking the moment in. You wanted to savor it, feel it completely. You wished you could take the condom off, feel her completely and wholly. She felt so warm and so tight, you could only imagine what she felt like skin to skin.

She spit your finger from her mouth. “What happened to the senseless part, Sam?”

You took that as an invitation to go ahead. You began slow thrusts, so as not to move things along too quickly. Immediately she was writhing beneath you, hands moving up and down your back and into your hair. You did your best to find a rhythm, but she was making things impossibly difficult with her reactions. Shit. She felt amazing.

You began to pick up the pace a little, grabbing her leg and bending it to wrap around your waist. Apparently, that was the right spot. Your moves were sensual. Senseless, but sensual. You let your head fall to her ear, biting the lobe and running your tongue behind it.

“Fuuuuck yes, Sam,” she spat out breathlessly. You were beginning to lose composure, but were far from being finished with her. Her sounds alone could send you into a frenzy at this point. She began to whine a little as you blew cold air onto the places your tongue had left.

You sat up, grabbed her hips and propped yourself up on one knee, towering above her. This new angle was stellar, you had a full view, though dark and still slightly under the covers, of what was happening. You watched yourself slide in and out of her, and began to slow your pace.

“Take it off, Sam.” she said in a demanding tone.

“What?” You breathed.

“Take the condom off.”

You fumbled your words. “Sh-really? Are you sure? I was just joking earlier, I’m clea-"

“Sam, I trust you more than I trust anyone in my life. Take it off.” she pleaded.

Who were you to deny her that? You removed yourself from her, and the two of you worked together to slide it off.

The air had changed just a little. You peered down to her blissed-out face. “I wanna feel you.” she whispered.

The rush of blood to all your extremities was enough to knock you over. She had no idea what she was doing to you. Her natural confidence was newfounded, she always had it but, damn. This was something else.

She pushed you backwards, and switched your places. You found yourself underneath her again. You immediately reached for her warmth, wanting to touch her. You found her clit, and began making small swirls over top of it. You reached down a bit further, and gathered up her wetness, bringing it to make everything impossibly slick. She tilted her head back in a moan.

“God, babe. You’re so wet. Is that all for me?” You asked in a teasing tone.

“No idiot, it’s for me,” she playfully rolled her eyes as you laughed.

“Touché.” You walked right into that one.

You quickened your swirls with your thumb, and added a finger inside her.

“Shitttt Sam, really?” You began pumping your finger in and out while continuing your assault on her clit. After a few seconds of undoing her, she grabbed your hand and pulled it away, then lifted herself to let you enter her again. The raw contact had the two of you falling onto one another, bodies instantly turning into puddles as she slowly sat all the way down, and bottomed out.

“Jesus Christ, y/n….ffffuck meee, you feel so-” you could do nothing else but sit up slightly, finding her lips again and bringing her to a deep and sensual kiss. All the while moaning hard into her mouth. There were no words to describe how good she felt. Velvety smooth on you.

She began bouncing slowly up and down, almost breaking contact completely before setting herself back down again. Her hands were on your pecs, squeezing and kneading them as her head rolled from side to side with pleasure overcoming her face. She was absolutely stunning.

You reached up to grab a fistful of her hair, you wrapped it all around your hand tightly and pulled hard, bringing her face close to yours. Your foreheads rested on each other as she continued riding her way into oblivion. Both covered in a sheen of sweat, you found yourselves enraptured in pure ecstasy.

The eye contact, the hitched breaths, the quick and deep kisses…you should have been doing this a long long time ago. Her sounds were becoming more and more strangled, like she was going to tumble over the edge at any minute. You began lightly rubbing her back, and she sat back up, stopping the bounce, now simply grinding in circles.

“You’re so fuckin beautiful, y/n.” She smiled deviously, and you reached up a hand to her throat, squeezing gently. “That ok?” You asked.

“Fuck yeah, it’s okay,” she replied.

Yep. She’s going to kill you tonight.

You felt yourself twitching inside her, and you knew it wouldn’t be long. Luckily, you could tell she was beginning to come apart herself. You reached for her clit again with your free hand, letting her take the reigns while she held onto you for dear life.

The sounds she was making were nearly pornographic; you were glad you didn’t live in an apartment. She reached a hand up to grasp the wrist of your hand on her throat, squeezing it tightly, signaling you to do the same and you obliged. Suddenly she was collapsing and falling apart, soaking you in the process. You watched as she rode herself through it, pupils blown out and face beautifully contorted. She smiled when she came back to.

“God damn I wish you could see yourself…” you trailed off again. She began bouncing harder now, quickly bringing you to the brink.

“Where do you…I’m-” she quickly hopped off of you, squatted down, and took your length in her mouth, pumping with her hands and mouth. That was all it took…you exploded into a million pieces, sending your streams into her mouth. She squeezed your thighs on the come down, and left no mess behind.

Once you landed back on earth, she removed her mouth, and chuckled. You were left breathless, wordless, mindless- everything was gone from your brain.

“Are you fucking serious, y/n?” you said through labored breaths. “I think that was the hottest- you’re literally-” you stammer. You couldn’t even form sentences. You covered your face in disbelief as she climbed up to lay next to you.

You could do nothing else but pull her into a tight squeeze. “Where have you been all my life?” You ask through an expectant smile.

She lifted her head and looked at you sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, up my brother’s ass.” You replied, just waiting for her next playful blow to your shoulder.

SMACK.

“There it is. I’m sorry. I deserved that one.” you said, massaging your collarbone.

“Don’t be a dick Sam, that’s a touchy subject.” she scoffed.

You sighed. “I know it is, I won’t pick on you anymore, college girl.” you tease again.

That one landed you a pillow to the face.

“Sam, I’m serious. Quit while you’re ahead.” she warned.

“Ok, ok sheesh.” You paused and pulled her in closer, softly kissing her lips. “I am ahead, aren’t I?”

You decided to not delve anymore, ruin a good feeling. You let yourself drift off to sleep, curled up to the once love of your life, who surprisingly, at this point, no longer held you completely captive. For some reason, even after all of tonight’s events, your heart didn’t beat the same for her anymore.

——

You woke up the next morning tangled in your sheets, but no longer tangled up with her. She had found her spot on the other side of your king bed, perfectly comfortable in her own space. Your head pounded a little from the dehydration setting in.

The sound of crunching gravel had you snapping your head towards the window as you heard a car pulling up, stopping in front of the house. You rubbed your eyes and hopped over to the window, peeking out the blinds. Shit. Jake. You’d forgotten he was bringing a portfolio of paperwork over for you to sign off on for the label. You shook her awake.

“Hey, y/n, wake up, hey!” Her eyes opened one at a time as she craned her neck to look at you.

“Listen, Jake just pulled up, don’t go anywhere.” She shot up out of the bed, and at the same time, you both realized you were still completely nude.

“SHIT!” You both chimed, clobbering over the bed trying to find clothes to dress yourselves.

She was pulling a pair of your sweatpants on and you were pulling your shirt over your head as you heard the front door open. You forgot he had a key.

“Sammy boyyyy! Awakennn!” you heard Jake beckon from the front door. You motioned to her to be quiet with a finger over your lips as you walked out, closing the door behind you.

“Good morning brother. You’re awfully chipper for it to be this early,” you said through a yawn, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. You walked over to start a pot of coffee.

“And you’re awfully fully dressed to have had what looks to be a rendezvous last night, hm?” he quipped back.

Fuck. That was fast.

You turned around slowly to see her green coat hanging from his finger. He looked around, noticing her boots on the floor, and her purse hanging on the back of the chair. You had no words.

“Didn’t bother to take her home after getting into some trouble last night? Or was the trouble you got into here?” he scoffs.

His voice was deeply quiet, but not mad. He seemed to just want you to explain.

Just then, you heard your bedroom door close. And here she came, waltzing through your home like she owned the place, donned in your tshirt and sweatpants. Oh hell.

“Good morning, sunshines! How is everyone this morning?” she asked, like absolutely nothing in the world could faze her. Jake was taken by surprise, you noticed his body language instantly turn from confrontational to timid.

“Jake…hey. It’s really good to see you.” She sweetly walked over to him, and took him in a completely professional hug. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much last night, Sam and I got caught up in some nostalgic conversation.”

He was still holding her jacket. Neither of you spoke a word, but instead just stood, too stunned to reply.

After the longest pause, Jake finally spoke. “Uh yeah, hey y/n.. it’s good to see you too. It’s been..umm..a while.” You could tell by his tone that though he was trying to be cordial, he was dying to have his own nostalgic conversation with her.

“It has.” she replied, crossing her arms. The three of you stood in awkward silence for a few beats.

“Hey Sam, um, I’ve gotta be at work in a bit, could you run me home?” she asked.

“Yeah, yep. I can do that.” You said, rushing around and looking for your keys.

“Thanks.” She started walking back toward your room to gather her things. “Jake, see ya around.” And she was out of sight.

You felt the weight of the world crashing down on you from just one look from your brother. He stared at you silently seething before he finally spoke, “Just sign the fucking papers and take them back to Josh.” He tossed her jacket across the table, and left your house without another word.

——

“Do you have any regrets?” You asked her as the two of you sat cross-legged on the end of your bed.

She took a deep cleansing breath, and shook her head.

“No. I really don’t.” You felt relief completely wash over your body, as you were scared that in your drunken state last night, you may have made the wrong decisions.

“Do you?” She side-glanced to you, afraid of the answer you were going to give.

You mirrored her action. “Nope.”

“Still don’t have any feelings for me anymore?” She pressed.

You let this one sit with you for a second. “Honestly, I don’t think I do, y/n, as strange as that sounds.” She agreed with a nod. “But I had a really good time last night. Like a really good time.”

She smiled. “I did too. Who would have thought that sleeping with your best friend actually wouldn’t be weird?” The two of you sat in relieved silence. “I’m glad we can be honest with each other again. I missed that.” she said sweetly. “I missed you.”

Three years ago, those words would have made your life turn upside down and fall into a frenzy, but, her words didn’t sting. They didn’t make your stomach do flips. Instead, they gave you a strange sense of comfort and sentimentality. A sense of familiarity.

She was so endearing, enrapturing. You still felt a draw to her, something deep and archaic, that you couldn’t explain. You suddenly felt an innate pull to chase that feeling again and again, not having any idea where it might land you. And also not caring where it did.

JAKE POV

You flung the door to your Jeep open, and hopped inside, slamming the door shut behind you. You were seething with anger. Anger and betrayal and disappointment. You gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, and felt a sharp pain radiate through your right hand. The lasting effects of your fractured hand still hanging around even after all this time. You scoffed at the irony. Her, still tying you to some of the worst pain you’ve ever experienced in your life.

You thought you were free of it. Did you miss her? Of course. Things were left on terms that weren’t great. But the phone worked both ways. She didn’t try. She faded away so quickly.

You thought you’d proven yourself time and time again of wanting to be with her, and only her. But it wasn’t good enough. She had her reasons, and they made sense from the outside looking in. But not to you. Not for you.

She was gone. And you thought it was for good this time. You’d finally found separation and ripped the band aid off. You found what felt like happiness again, in Sophia. And now, here she was again, crashing into your new life like a freight train. Into Sam’s life. And apparently into his bed.

You were speeding down the highway, eyes crossing at the feeling of betrayal from your brother. How could he do this? But more importantly, why were you so affected?

——

A few hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the practice studio in a cloud of dust from the gravel. You put it in park, and removed your sunglasses. You saw stars. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last drink. You flipped down the visor and checked your appearance. Eyes bloodshot, cheeks red. Perfect. You popped a piece of gum into your mouth, and replaced the sunglasses. You were the last one to arrive, as usual.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and calling. And I thought I was the one always late.” Josh spat as soon as you opened the front door. “God, you reek of bourbon. You idiot, are you drunk?”

You straightened up, and leaned in closely to your twin. “Please. Stop. Talking.” you all but slurred. He held his hands up in surrender.

“As long as you can fucking play... I can’t believe you drove like this. Stupid, really.” He spoke as he turned and walked toward the booth.

You joined everyone after taking your guitar from the case and plugging it in.

“Jacob.” Sam said in a blank tone.

“Samuel.” you answered short and clipped. You cleared your throat. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

The tension was thick. The air was heavy. You felt flush, and you were starving. A headache had begun to creep its way into your forehead. You made it through the first few songs without too much trouble, thanking your muscle memory for doing its job while you struggled to even see straight. As time went on, though, you began to struggle a bit.

“Christ Jake, I can’t catch your cues if you don’t play them!” Josh yelled. “We’ve got to get this shit tight.”

“Just do it again.” You spoke.

You heard a collective scoff come from Danny and Sam. You turned to see them rolling their eyes in aggravation.

“Do either of you have something to say? Because I’d like to hear it if so.” You raised your voice, pushing the guitar to hang around your back.

“You sound like shit, Jake! Just get it together so we can wrap this up.” Sam answered in his whiny youngest sibling tone. It struck a nerve.

“Wrap it up? You heard Josh, we’ve got to get this tight. We aren’t going anywhere until we hit it. Besides, where the fuck do you want to go in such a hurry, hm?” You felt heat rising in your face. You knew exactly where he was going.

“You’re the one who keeps fucking up! We all sound fine. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to the bar at 2 pm.” The last bit of his sentence trailed off under his breath.

“Son of a bitch, here we go,” you heard Danny mumble, setting his sticks on the drumhead.

“For your information, Samuel, it’s none of your business what I do with my free time. So I’d shut it before you really piss me off.” You swung your guitar back around to the front.

“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of all of our business what you do in your free time, seeing as how it might constitute you coming to practice fully fucking drunk and unable to play the simplest of chord progressions...” he spat as you cut him off.

“OK Sam. Since we should know everything about each other at all times, why don’t you tell the family what you were doing last night, then? And this morning? Come on, we need details… No secrets anymore.” Your words were flying now, rage filling you to the brim. You held your fingers against your lips, eyes meeting Sam’s and sincerely waiting to hear what kind of reply he had.

Josh and Danny waited in anticipation, all eyes on Sam. You felt the alcohol still pulsing through your veins, vision still blurred.

He cleared his throat.

“Alright, fine. I was with y/n. We went out. Got drunk. And she came back to my house.” He stopped there. It was silent for a few beats.

You felt absolutely defeated. Heartbroken. Truly let down, and the tone of your voice matched it.

“Sam, did you sleep with her? Did you sleep with my girl?” You felt your lip quiver just a little, succumbing to the encompassing blur that the emotions and whiskey had left you in.

He looked behind you, then met your eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek, and nodded slowly.

There was no way to describe the feeling that overtook you. The only way to explain it was just plain sickness. Not madness. Not fury.

You turned around to face away from everyone as you collected your thoughts. The silence that fell on the room was deafening. You quickly pulled the plug on your guitar, tossing the cord to the floor.

“Let’s just... Meet back up tomorrow morning. It seems like we all might need some time.” Josh thankfully spoke up. “Jake, I'm driving you. Let’s go.”

——

Josh didn’t say much on the drive, and you were a bit relieved. You needed a second to just sit and stare at nothing. Your head was still spinning and all you could do was lean it against the headrest and close your eyes. After a few minutes of Josh’s reckless driving, he slammed a water bottle to your chest.

“Chug it, asshole. We’re here.” You slumped down in your seat, feeling like the world had dropped all around you. You unbuckled your seatbelt and slowly trudged your way up the walkway, following far behind Josh who was waiting at the door.

When you made it inside, you immediately went to the fridge and pulled out yesterday’s leftovers. Not even bothering to heat them, you dug in.

“Jesus, you are fucked up,” Josh said, taking a seat at the island.

��I haven’t eaten in 20 hours.” you said, monotone.

“She’s really got you in your feelings again, doesn’t she? I thought we were past this.” Josh said, crossing his arms. “Lay it out for me, brother. I’m here to listen. Tell me what’s going on so I can try to help before the band implodes.”

You took a deep breath, throwing the to-go box in the trash and screwing the top off the water bottle. “I don’t want to. You can just go home. Thank you for the ride, though.” you muttered, walking into the living room to hopefully pass out on the couch until tomorrow.

“Oh no you don’t.” you could hear Josh’s footsteps behind you. You felt slightly aggravated, and the headache was getting worse.

“Josh, you saw what happened at the studio! It should be self explanatory! Do I need to recount every fuckin detail?” You raised your voice to him.

“Have you talked to Sam about it? Or did you just assume their situation?” He asked. The question actually stunned you.

“What do you mean assume their situation? He told me! He told all of us!” Your arms were raising with your voice now.

Josh kept his calm and collected, as always. “Yeah, but have you talked to her?” He asked again, with no emotion in his voice.

“When the fuck would I have had time to talk to her? I just saw her for the first time since they left the bar last night. All cuddled up in conversation over there, didn’t even bother to say hello.” you were rambling now. Placing blame where it didn’t need to be placed out of resentment.

Josh just sat with his arms crossed raising a brow in question.

“Why didn’t you go say hello? Like the rest of us did? Just because Sophia was there? You and y/n aren’t together anymore. It’s been years. It would have been perfectly okay for you to go and catch up with an old friend.” He said matter-of-factly. “But you just sat there, and kept to yourself. Kind of rude, honestly.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and fell harder into the couch, laying out with your legs outstretched.

“No, it wouldn’t have been okay, Josh. It wouldn’t have been perfectly okay and you know that.” You covered your eyes with your hand. “Shit will never be perfectly okay between me and her. It’s like the universe just fucks us over any chance it gets. I thought I was free of it, moving here. Finding Sophia. But everytime she comes around again it’s like my whole world turns itself upside down. Why can’t I just move on?” you plead.

You felt yourself spilling your feelings to your brother. Thanks a lot, Bourbon.

“And now we see her for the first time in fuckin years, and she hooks up with Sam? Are you fuckin kidding me?! She completely forgot about everything we went through together? Everything I said and did…she just disappeared. After I tried so damn hard for us.”

Josh sat stoic, milling over your words. He knew something you didn’t.

“Just let it be, brother. You have a serious girlfriend now. They’re adults. We’re all adults. Not much you can change in this situation.” Josh had a look on his face that you knew too well.

You sat up quickly, “You talked to her, didn’t you? Before we got to the bar. What did she say?” You pressed.

He stood up grabbing his keys, “She said exactly what you think she said, Jake. Now go to sleep. You look like hell.” And with that, he left the house.

‘She said exactly what you think she said.’

Coming from someone who shares your brain cells, you knew what he was implying.

Maybe she does still feel the same.

HER POV

“Thanks for the ride, Sammy. I’ll talk to you later?” You asked, hopping out of Sam’s car.

“Yeah, see you this weekend!” he says, putting the car into drive and pulling away.

You walked upstairs to your apartment door, and let yourself in. You plopped down your bed, mind absolutely racing with the past day’s occurrences.

Excitement from seeing Josh and everyone again for the first time in years, in your new city.

Giddiness and some confusion from the whirlwind of sleeping with Sam.

And pure anxiety from simply being in the same building as Jake. And his new girlfriend. You still held resentment toward him, and the way things were left between you. The way he never reached out again. The way he let you slip through his fingers so easily.

You let your mind trip and stumble over every detail, while watching your ceiling fan spin slowly above you. You tried to keep your eyes locked on one fan blade while it spun, following it around in circles for it to only make your eyes dizzy and lose track of it. It was funny, the metaphor that wrote itself in your mind. You did nothing but chase Jake around in circles for years, only to lose track of him time and time again.

Fate was funny. And you didn’t understand why your mind was so heavy on him after having a very satisfying go-around with his brother last night. You covered your face with your hands.

FUCK.

You SLEPT with Sam! Moreover, you essentially initiated it! You felt embarrassed and ashamed, the normal guilt that always follows a one-night stand. What the hell were you thinking last night? You didn’t have feelings for Sam like that. You never have.

But you let him know that. And he understood. The feeling, or lack thereof, was mutual. You took a deep breath, and tried to talk yourself through the mantra of “Sex is okay between friends. Consenting adults. It doesn’t have to have meaning. It’s a natural, carnal, physical need.”

You laughed at yourself, raising your eyebrows.

It was an excellent lay.

And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you wouldn’t be willing to hook up with him again. Visions of his face and his body and his hands on you replayed in your mind’s eye. Purely physical. Pure lust. Mirrored bodies that already understood each other so well, the physical touch was just an extension of it.

But it wasn’t Jake. Nothing has ever been like Jake. Before or after. After Andy, Jake let you know what it felt like to make love, not just have sex. He cared about his every movement, every touch, intentional. You’ve never felt a connection like that with anyone ever before. You had a hunger for him that was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Insatiable and honest, no barriers or boundaries, and the feeling of complete and utter love.

But you knew you’d never get that feeling back. You’d only be chasing it around in circles for the rest of forever, slipping up and losing track of him over and over.

You sat up and attempted to clear your head. Sam had invited you to a party this weekend, and it was already Thursday. You only questioned going for a split second, until Sam’s begging puppy dog eyes wrapped you into saying yes. You had always had a hard time denying those eyes.

Maybe you’d end up back at home that night. But, more than likely, you wouldn't.

You knew it would be Sam’s bed you’d wake up in, and furthermore, you’d like it.

Outtake: Plan A

Taglist: @gretavansara@jordierama@starshine-wagner@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@gvfjess @misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan @jakemarrymeibeg @fakeplastiqtree @radmads-gvf

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luxlisbons · 3 months

Text

Voulez-Vous? - part ii

Mencken's ego takes a hit when Harriet's eye wanders to the newly elected French president. In response, he engineers a grand state dinner, turning diplomatic affairs into a battlefield of jealousy.

part i

part of the "before there's hell to pay" universe: part i - part ii - part iii

pairing: jeryd mencken x original female character. 4k

warnings: affairs, unhealthy relationships, dubious morality, explicit language, age difference, smut, religious imagery & symbolism, unprotected sex, pov first person, the french

Read on AO3

ATN Breaking News: President Mencken to Host French President Reynaud in Historic State Visit

WASHINGTON — The White House announced on Monday that it would host President Marcel Reynaud of France and his mother and acting First Lady, Brigitte Sadier, in December in the first state visit of President Mencken’s administration. This marks a significant diplomatic move, bringing together leaders with differing political ideologies. The event is poised to shape the narrative around international relations, with both leaders expected to discuss a range of global matters.

Vera Schultz, the White House press secretary, highlighted the unprecedented nature of the visit. "This state visit reflects President Mencken's commitment to engaging with leaders across the political spectrum, fostering open dialogue despite ideological differences.”

While specific information about the agenda remains undisclosed, the visit is expected to cover various topics of global importance. Observers anticipate discussions on diplomatic cooperation, international crises, and potential areas of collaboration between the United States and France.

As the world eagerly awaits further details, this historic state visit has already sparked intrigue and speculation. It represents a departure from conventional diplomatic norms and underscores President Mencken's approach to engaging with leaders whose political perspectives diverge from his own.

_____________________________________________________________

When news of President Reynaud's impending visit made headlines, the gears of the Mencken administration started turning to prepare for this diplomatic spectacle. The announcement, strategically made in late August, granted us a three-month window to navigate the intricacies of hosting the French president.

Fresh off my Italian adventure, I wasted no time informing Tom that I would resume my role as the chief liaison between ATN and the White House, effectively taking on the responsibilities of a press secretary in all but name. The coordination of the media team became my domain, ensuring that the narrative surrounding Mencken was meticulously crafted.

"Glad to have you back, Harriet," Tom greeted me.

"Cut the shit, Tom. You knew exactly what I was getting myself into."

"Yeah, well, you too. Or better said, what you let Mencken get into when you let him stick it in you. I mean, my God, it's so high school—the popular guy finally seeing the weirdo girl for who she is, and, well, you know the rest. Well, not really, because trust me this does not end with him taking you to prom.”

“But it does end with the rich girl happy with the nerd?” I replied, knowing exactly where to salt the wound.

“Ouch, harsh!” Tom chuckled, acknowledging the sting of my retort. "Alright, you've made your point. But you can't deny you're relishing every moment of this."

“You got me there, Tom Tom. And for the record, I don't need a running commentary on my personal life.”

Tom leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked onto mine. "True, true. Apologies for the friendly banter. But seriously, Harriet, you're handling this like a pro. It's almost... admirable. I’m glad you put your big girlboss shoes on. Keep it up, and keep Herr Fuhrer happy. Maybe soon enough, you’ll be making the calls in the White House."

I arched an eyebrow, intrigued by his cryptic remark. "Are you offering relationship advice now, Tom?"

His lips curled into a knowing smile. "Perhaps, in my own peculiar way."

I couldn't help but glance at the framed photograph on his desk. It showed him, Shiv, and a baby girl with a head of dark hair. I hadn't asked about Logan before, knowing it was a topic best avoided. But now, with the picture in front of me, curiosity got the better of me.

I nodded towards the photograph. "Logan, huh? That's an interesting choice. Must have some deep meaning, right? Daddy issues, perhaps?"

Tom chuckled, his voice tinged with amusement. "You could say that. It's a family name. Shiv picked it." Of course, she did.

I couldn't resist a playful jab. "Well, let's just hope little Logan doesn't need too much therapy when she's older.”

Tom laughed and added, "Ah, therapy. It's practically a family tradition at this point."

Tom leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked onto mine. "Circling back to the main point of this meeting… Do we have you back one-hundred percent? No more pussyfooting? You're brilliant at what you do, and having you closer to the action, well, it could benefit us all."

A subtle, knowing smile played at the corners of my lips as I added, "In more ways than one, perhaps." Finally, I nodded, a determined glint in my eyes. “Yes, Tom. I'm in."

_____________________________________________________________

In the following weeks, as the anticipation for the historic state visit grew, my days were a whirlwind of meetings, strategy sessions, and keeping the ATN team aligned with the White House agenda. The city buzzed with excitement, speculation, and an air of preparation for an event that promised to be a departure from the usual diplomatic routine. We needed this to be perfect, not just to avoid any potential diplomatic hiccups, but to not tick off Mencken’s fickle temper. It was during one of those hectic afternoons that a text message popped up on my phone, disrupting the chaotic rhythm.

M: “So Frenchie’s First Lady is his mom… mommy issues much?🤱🏼”

H: “Be glad for those types of issues, they are the reason why I’m fucking you in the first place 👨🏻🦳”

This tidbit of information made me curious enough to kill the little free I had and go into a Google fuelled rabbit hole. In my deep dive into Marcel Reynaud's life, I uncovered the juicy details that make him more than just a politician. A divorced bachelor who embraced fatherhood at 26 with a fellow activist, he quickly realized that the institution of marriage wasn't his cup of tea. Unlike some people I know, he managed to navigate a divorce amicably and is currently co-parenting a fifteen-year-old boy, Pascal.

But what intrigued me more was the unconventional First Lady setup. Marcel's mother, Brigitte Sadier, a feminist activist and a signer of the Manifesto of the 343, plays the role of his First Lady (Mencken would have a field day with that fact “ Hey, she’s part of your club Mrs. Abortion” ). It seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and the Reynaud family has a penchant for shaking up norms.

The more I read about him, I could feel a warmth spreading in my chest, a little bit of affection if you will. Everything that Marcel Reynaud represented was the complete and total opposite of Mencken. The stark contrast fascinated me, and I couldn't help but acknowledge a growing sense of affection for the French president. It was a sentiment that danced on the edges of my consciousness, like an unexpected guest at a well-planned party.

As I delved further into Marcel's life, the nuances of his character painted a different picture—one that stood in stark juxtaposition to Mencken's brashness and often self-centered demeanor. The warmth spreading in my chest wasn't just from the interesting tidbits of his personal life; it was a response to the realization that, in Marcel, there existed a leader who embodied a different kind of strength.

If there's one thing I'm consistent about, it's my ability to be inconsistent. The unpredictable currents of my emotions seemed to be steering me in uncharted waters, like an unmoored ship. I reached for my phone and found myself dialing my White House contact.

“Hey, June? How are you? That’s good. Look, can you do me a favor? Set up a dinner in the agenda for me and Marcel, I want to explain to him all the key details and prepare him for the President. I don’t want him to be caught off guard. Yeah, yeah, make it discreet. Maybe a small gathering at one of those quaint French restaurants. No, nothing official—just a casual dinner. I'm sure Mencken won't mind; he's got his own affairs to attend to. Great, thanks, June."

As I hung up, I couldn't help but wonder about the path I was treading. It wasn't just the professional interest anymore; there was a personal curiosity, a desire to understand the man behind the political persona. My thoughts swirled like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, and I found myself questioning the nature of this newfound fascination.

My mind wandered briefly to Mencken's potential reaction. I could almost hear his gruff voice in my head, questioning the motives behind this seemingly casual dinner. It wasn't that Mencken disapproved of diplomacy; it was the clandestine nature of the gathering that might not sit well with his penchant for control.

A few hours later, as I navigated the White House halls, I found myself face-to-face with Mencken, who was deep in conversation with his assistant. The stern furrow on his brow momentarily softened as he glanced in my direction before returning to his usual mean stare.

"Harriet," Mencken called out, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and authority. "A word."

I followed Mencken in a more secluded part of the corridor. His sharp eyes fixed on mine, and I could sense the gears turning in his mind.

"I heard about your dinner plans with Marcel," Mencken stated bluntly, wasting no time with pleasantries. "Care to explain what game you're playing?"

His tone was measured, but there was an underlying intensity that hinted at a mixture of curiosity and caution. I met his gaze directly, my response poised and calculated.

"It's a simple dinner," I replied, injecting a note of nonchalance. "Just a way to ensure a smooth interaction between Marcel and the President. No hidden agendas."

Mencken's gaze lingered, a silent exchange of understanding and unspoken challenges. "Keep it professional, vögelchen. This isn't a social club; it's politics."

A sardonic smile played on my lips as I met Mencken's gaze head-on. "When have we ever played by the rules, Mencken?" I retorted, injecting a touch of mockery into my tone. "Politics is just another game, and I'm simply playing my hand."

Mencken's expression remained unreadable, a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken truth. With a nod, he continued down the corridor, leaving me with a sense of defiance that simmered beneath the surface.

_____________________________________________________________

The days leading up to the anticipated dinner were filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. It was as if I was preparing for an unexpected rendezvous, unsure of what the encounter might reveal. The rational part of me scoffed at the idea of a simple dinner having any profound impact, yet the subtle flutter in my chest suggested otherwise.

When Marcel Reynaud's arrival day came I found myself at the airfield, playing the role of the welcoming committee. My task was to explain the media aspects, subtly weaving ATN's interests into the narrative of the state visit.

Mencken stood beside the First Lady, extending a welcoming hand to Marcel and his mother, Brigitte. "Welcome to the capital, President Reynaud, Ms. Sadier. We're honored to have you."

Marcel shook Mencken's hand firmly, and Brigitte exchanged a few words with the First Lady, which was a miracle. She lately has been speaking of such irrelevant and unexpected subjects that it was impossible to get to the bottom of what was worrying her.

At moments she was cheerful, but for the most part, she was thoughtful, though she did not know herself what she was thinking about. She would suddenly begin to talk of something and then she would suddenly break off and cease speaking, responding to further questions with a vacant smile, without being conscious herself that she was being questioned or that she was smiling. It took an entire task force of uppers and therapists to get her ready for this. By the looks of Brigitte, she was not all impressed.

As the group engaged in polite conversation while nearing me and the team, Mencken's eyes occasionally flickered in my direction, a subtle acknowledgment of my presence.

"Bonjour, President Reynaud. Welcome to Washington," I greeted him with a smile, adding a subtle flirtatious tone to my words. “I’m Harriet from ATN, and I’m glad to be finally meeting you in person.”

"Ah, Harriet, the pleasure is mine. Please, call me Marcel. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he responded, reciprocating with a charming smile that didn't escape Mencken's watchful eyes.

"Now, let me walk you through our media strategy during your stay. We want to ensure this visit is not only impactful but also strategically covered."

Marcel nodded, his attention unwavering despite the diplomatic pleasantries. "I appreciate the effort, Harriet. Your insights will undoubtedly make a difference."

As we concluded our briefing, I noticed a shift in Mencken's demeanor. His eyes narrowed slightly, a silent plea for subtlety. Ignoring the unspoken request, I gestured toward the waiting motorcade.

"Shall we? The convoy is ready to take us to the heart of the capital."

Brigitte gracefully entered the car with the First Lady, leaving Marcel and me to follow suit. As we stepped into the vehicle, Mencken's voice, low and tinged with jealousy, reached my ears.

“Can you at least try to be subtle? It’s childish and pathetic.”

I smirked, catching his gaze. "Subtlety is overrated, Mencken."

Ignoring his disapproving stare, I settled into the car. The air crackled like a brewing storm with unspoken thoughts and veiled intentions.

_____________________________________________________________

In the intricate tapestry of diplomatic engagements, Marcel Reynaud's visit to the United States unfolded like a grand theater production, each scene brimming with political intrigue and subtle flirtations. As I waded through the sea of formalities, the air crackled with anticipation, ripe with the promise of Franco-American collaboration and the undercurrent of personal connections.

Amidst the polished halls of power, Marcel, a master of charm and wit, engaged in discussions with our Vice President, Samuel Bennett, at NASA's headquarters. Accompanied by the enigmatic Brigitte, his unconventional yet captivating First Lady, Marcel ventured into the vibrant heart of Washington's cultural scene. At the Duke Ellington School of the Arts, Brigitte's presence infused the air with an aura of elegance and intrigue, her effortless grace drawing admirers like moths to a flame.

Meanwhile, our conversations during a working lunch on climate and biodiversity with US Climate Envoy Richard Thompson took on a playful tone, punctuated by quips and innuendos that danced on the edge of propriety.

"So, Mr. Reynaud, while we save the planet, do you have any guilty pleasures to confess?" I teased, a mischievous glint in my eye.

Marcel chuckled, his response dripping with subtle flirtation, "Ah, Mademoiselle Harriet, the most tempting indulgence would be to explore the hidden delights of Washington with you once our work is done."

As the day unfolded, Marcel's visit to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery was a poignant reminder of the shared sacrifices that bound our nations together. Amidst the solemnity, a shared glance between us spoke volumes, our unspoken connection weaving through the somber silence.

At the French Embassy, Marcel's impassioned speech about the US role in World War II stirred the depths of our shared history. After he awarded the Legion d'Honneur to deserving veterans, our banter continued, a playful reprieve from the weight of the moment.

As the veterans, now adorned with the prestigious medal, mingled with the dignitaries, Marcel and I found a quiet corner away from the ceremonial spotlight. The room seemed to fade away while our whispered French words hid beneath the symphony of polite conversation.

In a more relaxed manner, I leaned closer, the scent of his cologne mingling with the fragrant aroma of the room. "Your words tonight were truly moving, Marcel," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the soft murmur of conversation.

His eyes, alight with passion, held mine captive. "Thank you, Harriet. It means a great deal coming from you," he replied, his tone sincere yet tinged with a hint of something more.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he cast a playful glance towards Mencken, who observed the proceedings from a distance. "Unlike some, I prefer speeches that speak to the heart, not just the ego," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Our laughter, a shared symphony, resonated through the embassy. Mencken, relegated to the sidelines, watched our interaction with a growing sense of frustration. His eyes, usually sharp and assertive, now betrayed a hint of jealousy as he observed us.

Meanwhile, my phone buzzed with a message. Glancing discreetly, I saw Mencken's name on the screen. The message read, "A bit too cozy with the French, aren't we?”

I couldn't help but smirk. Ignoring the message, I continued my conversation with Marcel, our laughter carrying through the embassy like a secret shared between conspirators.

As the guests began to disperse, Mencken approached, a forced smile on his face. "Quite the performance tonight," he remarked low enough for me to hear, his tone attempting nonchalance but failing to mask the underlying tension.

Marcel, ever the diplomat, extended a hand to Mencken. "President Mencken, a pleasure to be in your country."

Mencken's handshake was firm, but his eyes bore into mine. "The pleasure is ours, President Reynaud."

Marcel's departure was marked by a subtle yet lingering glance, promising more encounters. Once he and his entourage left, Mencken turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "A bit too friendly, don't you think?"

I responded with a shrug, "It's called diplomacy, Mencken. Something you might want to learn."

#succession #jeryd mencken #jeryd mencken x reader #succession fanficion #succession fanfic #justin kirk #succession hbo #swann arlaud #is the french prez

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