#The autographs were more important to me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musedblues · 3 months

Text

FOREVER AND FOR REAL

(photo edits by @pitifulbaby_ on insta)

a/n: daisy jones eat your fucking heart out. i present yet another rockstar!eddie fic. this one features fem rockstar!reader, a fake marrige, a lot of reckless behavior and lovely little ending.

warnings: descriptions of sex, drugs, rock and roll, themes abt alcoholism/addiction, mentions of abusive ex partners, god-awful rom com tropes, fantastical bullshit. sorry not sorry for this yall know i love a good fake marriage

30k

MINORS DNI

/// New York 1988 -

"So, how did it start with you and Eddie?" The woman from the Rolling Stone smiled as she quizzed you. Her voice was low, her demeanor was patient.

"He asked for my autograph." You revealed with a laugh.

///

Sunset Strip 1986 -

The rooftop party was in full swing. Your labels oldest and most endeared studio musician had announced his retirement and everyone who was anyone showed up to his celebratory send off.

Ozzy was stumbling from guest to guest. Prince was casting smug grins from his poolside perch. You were being reprimanded by you manager in the middle of the shindig.

"Go wish Terry a happy retirement and maybe go catch up with some other studio musicians while you're at it. You can't let your last guitarists new rumors ruin your reputation. We'll need to hire some of these people to record your next album, you know?" Kelsey snarled, his cigarette-stained smile repulsing you. He was a hard ass. That made him a damn successful manager. And a shitty fucking person.

You grumbled and spun to do what he said, trying to stay in favor with the musicians who worked under your label was a must. If only you would have known falling in love with your last guitarist would result in the messiest breakup of all time. If only he hadn't spread such vial rumors about you to his fellow studio musicians and the press.

But they were just rumors. And you had proven yourself to be one of the music's scenes most prominent figures in the past few years. You wouldn't let this hiccup be the one to topple over everything you worked so hard to achieve.

On your mission to save your name, you stopped by the rooftop bar. There were a cast of patrons who parted to let you ahead in line. That was a good sign. You still held an absurd amount of social import. After asking the man behind the counter for a vodka soda, a commotion turned everyone's gaze.

Out of thin air, was the illustrious Eddie Munson. In a flash he jumped behind the mini bar and proceeded to pour the drink you asked for. He was hammered, the drunkest of any attendee. He was smiling at you as you accepted the vodka... and then he introduced himself.

"I of course know who you are." Eddie smiled, ignoring the bartender who was frustratedly insisting the guitarist get out from behind the workspace. Eddie was leaned against the counter, watching you laugh and roll your eyes. Of course, he knew you. And of course, you knew him. He was the newest name attached to your shared label, but perhaps the most famous.

In the one year that Eddies band Corroded Coffin had appeared on the scene, their music and personage had taken over rock and roll. Their tours were selling out, their greenrooms were stuffed with groupies, their producers were booking studios so far out in advance your next session had to be postponed.

"I've known who you are since your first single became the soundtrack of the summer of '84. I've had your posters on my walls. Would it be impossibly tacky of me to ask for your autograph?" Eddie slurred, but past his inebriation lied a sparkle in his eye that you read as genuine.

"Our generations most admired guitar virtuoso is asking for my signature?" You snorted. "I should be asking for yours. Could sell it for millions." You grinned back, watching Eddie's wide smile faulter as the bartender had started swatting his shoulders, demanding he leave.

"Okay, okay. I'll go." The rockstar turned and submitted with a sigh, and a paused smirk. "But only after one more shot." Eddie spun to grab a bottle of whiskey, lifting the nozzle to hold over his opened mouth, draining more than a shot worth as the small crowd of party goers cheered him on. The bartender cursed Eddie, snatched the bottle back, and announced he was calling security. Eddie had heard enough, hoping over the bar, his boots shinning across your field of vision as he whizzed past you, landing stealthily, and grabbing your wrist on his sudden escape.

"That way!" You chuckled, just buzzed enough to let yourself enjoy the change of pace. Eddie darted in your demanded direction and found a pair of elevators around the rooftops pool, busied by party goers.

As the pair of you lunged into the lift, you reached for the buttons to shut the doors fast as possible. They slid together in slow motion as your fingers fumbled over the buttons, pressing a couple different floors by mistake as the ride descended. Eddie's laughter rang in your ear as he drunkenly bobbed to find footing. But soon as the pair of you were being lowered to freedom, your ride creaked eerily to a halt. The doors did not open. The ride did not move.

"Oh no." You called, racing to press more buttons but worrying that your initial doing so was what had stopped the ride. But surely the button meant to press for an emergency was safe, right?

"We stopped?" Eddie realized, his lithe grin faltering, sobriety bubbling into his gaze.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." You turned to face the rockstar, who was just realizing the gravity of your situation. Just then a crackly voice rang through the rides system, informing the pair of you that your alert was received and asking what had happened. A nice enough woman assured help was on the way and insisted the pair of you stay calm. You started to apologize to Eddie once more when he waved to dismiss you.

"No, it's my fault for dragging you away with me. I'm kind of a pro at causing so much trouble."

"There are worse rockers to be trapped in an elevator with." You chuckled, leaning back against one of the walls railings.

"Took the words outta my mouth... I do want your autograph. Heartbeaten was the only album I played the winter it came out."

"You're a very dangerous flirt, you know that?" You warned, looking the guitarist up and down. It was beyond flattering to hear your music complimented by a musician you admired all the same. It didn't hurt how easy it was to look at Eddie, either. Leather clad, hair a mess, eyes glazed over by the night's events. You'd forgotten for a moment that you were trapped.

"Is it getting hot in here? I'd say it's cause of you but I don't really like this..." Eddie tried to play off his worry but you watched his chest rise and fall and remembered you were trapped and suddenly everything became more realistically grim. You pressed the emergency button once more and the kind woman insisted the fire department was on their way up now.

"Just a couple more minutes." You nodded toward Eddie. "We'll be out of here before you know it."

"Thank God." Eddie noted. "But I might just miss you, ya know?"

All of a sudden it hit you. Everything you'd been through in the past year played like a montage through your mind, leading up to this moment. You realized you hadn't been trapped so much as given a golden opportunity to ask a very important question to what seemed like the exact right person.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"I'll sign my album for you if you do something for me?"

Just then a loud scraping against the metal entrance broke your collective focus on each other. A group of firemen pushed open the elevator doors by aid of some tools, informed the pair of you had been stuck on the 17th floor, and escorted you down the stairwell asking a few questions about how everything had gone down.

When you and Eddie reached the lobby, a woman you'd recognized from the label's office came hurrying toward the pair of you. She had to be Eddie's manager.

"I think it's time we go." The woman offered you a polite smile before turning a stern gaze to Eddie. "You've already pissed off three of the four bartenders here tonight. And I'm sure you've overstayed your welcome in her presence, Munson." She eye'd you.

"Actually, he was just agreeing to meet me in my studio over the weekend." You blurted. Eddie was the best player on the scene. He was your best and maybe only hope. Eddie beamed at you, realizing that this was your barter for giving your autograph to the rockstar.

"I'd love to work together." You spoke quickly enough to result in a blush of embarrassment. You were usually good at keeping your cool. But something about Eddie made you giddy and terrified and everything else all at once. You watched as Eddie's manager nodded in contemplation.

"I know Kelsey. I'll give him a call to set up the times." She dropped your managers name and yanked Eddie away in a hurry. The rocker didn't go without flashing you a smile and a wave before stumbling off through the lobby. After that, nothing was keeping you at the party any longer, either.

///

Century City L.A. 1986 -

When Eddie breezed into your recording booth the next weekend, he was refreshingly sober; and made sure you knew how grateful he was for the invitation. He slung his guitar around his back and shook your hand and listened intently to your vision for the music you were creating.

Eddie's presence was magnifying. But differently than you'd expected. You'd seen headlines and heard rumors float about from countless greenroom groupies and stagehands. Eddie Munson had gained quite the salacious reputation within the year fame had found him. He was no stranger to romantic quarrels and quandaries, legal battles, displays of public intoxication, the whole shebang. You knew he was going to captivate you, he already had. But he was not so unruly as the press made him out to be.

Eddie was respectful, desperate to fully understand your musical vison. Eddie was kind, complimenting your work and the tracks you'd scrapped together so far. Eddie was brilliant, adding licks and riffs right away that you'd never dreamed you'd be lucky enough to have featured throughout your music. He helped you write what you hadn't finished. He made you laugh in the middle of recording and apologized profusely when you had to start over and over again.

He said he could only stay for a couple of hours. But two hours turned into two days, turned into two weeks. When it was finished, your third album, Steel & Stone, had a healthy dose of Eddie's input sprinkled throughout. It was more a collaboration than a solo record. It was fucking Beautiful. Your producers thought so too. They said your sounds married well together.

That made Eddie laugh. And then it gave him an idea.

"The album cover should be a wedding! I've got it all figured out!" He excitedly sketched out his suggestions for your albums cover; and because he was so excited, you humored the guy by scheduling a photoshoot. A week later you were cutting up an old, thrifted wedding dress in Eddie's back garden. He'd hired a fake priest and invited some friends over to fill the background.

The pair of you looked fetching, Eddie in his size too small tux. loose tie, hair pulled back. You, in a ragged old dress, pearls hanging past your torso. The photos for the album cover came out killer, you and Eddie looked like a bride and groom out of a horror show. It was perfect.

The paparazzi thought so too. Somehow, someone with a camera and a lot of guts managed to snap a bevy of photos of your make-believe wedding over the hedges of Eddies back garden.

The photos were all over the tabloids the next day, and Hollywood went berserk at the news of your presumed wedding to the rock God. You found out when your phone clattered to life at 7am the next day. You answered the line to a frantic Eddie, who was less concerned about the rumor that you two had gotten legitimately married than the fact that his privacy was so easily invaded. So, you suggested he schedule a meeting with your real estate agent to find a safer, better shielded home. And because he was too frantic to take notes, you huffed and headed over to his humble abode to help the poor boy plan.

It wasn't even twenty-four hours later that rumors the pair of you were house hunting together sparked interest alongside the blurry wedding photos. News of your alleged link to Eddie traveled fast, but your management worked faster. Forty-two hours after the gossip spread, you and Eddie were called in to address the rumor mill.

///

"Sit, both of you, and listen to our pitch in completion before you voice opinions." Eddies manager, Brooke, was stood before an oak desk, she was a sharply dressed middle aged cunning sort of a woman you respected for rising to ranks men usually dominated in the industry.

You and Eddie gave each other a look as you settled in opposite armchairs. This was going to be interesting. Your manager was sat at the head of the desk, eager to have his turn of attention.

"In the past few months, both of you have been in a little trouble with the press, no?" Kelsey began, gazing over his tinted glasses to meet your eye.

"Try the past year." Eddie huffed a laugh, sitting back. The musician really had always been linked to some salacious headlines since his rise to stardom. You were rather new to the negative press, but had done a better job beating the allegations, you thought.

Brooke slid a trio of papers across an oak desk then. One showed a collage of tabloid write ups from the past few days. Every word gushed over the supposed connection you and Eddie shared. It was an overwhelming collection of rose-colored journalism. The other two papers looked like contracts.

"We think," Brooke breathed, glancing to Kelsey, "given the immense positive reaction to your supposed wedding, that you and Eddie staying allegedly betrothed is a divine PR opportunity to push alongside the new album you're each equal parts credited to have made."

"You want us to pretend to be married?" Eddie laughed. The kind of chuckle that burst from behind his teeth, like a kid in class that couldn't help but disrupt.

"Of course we do. Just for five months, till the start of next year. Besides being a brilliant PR move to promote Steel & Stone, it could save your ass, Munson."

"What's my ass got to do with anything?" Eddie quipped.

"Edward, now is a good time to inform you that your label is threatening to drop you if you don't get your shit together before this year ends. You don't want to pass the point of no return, do you?" The news hung in the air with, menacing finality. Eddie's carless behavior was catching up with him.

"Settling down in general is a good look for you. Settling down with this world famous takes no shit rock and roll chick is even better. You both get to remain reckless, except now with morals. America just creamed their pants. The tabloids have already begun rebranding Eddie, let see what was it..." She picked up a daily newsprint to quote...

"Ah yes, 'From Don Juan to I Do, can this wild rocker finally be tamed?' Cheesy but you get the gist. This positive spotlight might be your last before you're dubbed hopeless!" Brooke tossed the newsprint in Eddies lap. He grumbled back a "Hey!"

Then Kelsey spoke up...

"Of course you're not in such hot waters," He pointed your way, "but the sooner we clear up the mess you let your last guitarist make, the better off you'll be."

"I didn't let-"

"You will sign these contracts." Kelsey boomed, jabbing his finger on the dotted line of the paper in front of you. The room went quiet as his voice rattled the walls. "We'd hate for the premier of your new album to be delayed while you remain obstinate."

"You can't do that." You stated. You worried.

"We're going to talk about this." Eddie stretched from his seat and swatted your shoulder to meet him in the hall. You followed gladly, anxious to get out of the tension filled room.

A few steps closer toward the stairwell, Eddie slowed there. "Kelsey is a scary fucker, huh?"

"A lot of information just came at us at once. I think we should-" You tried to reason as you stalled at his side.

"I don't want to delay your album." Eddie blurted; brows pressed tightly together. "I don't want you to have to lug me around for five months either." He leaned against the wall, jamming a fist in one of his many leather pockets for a cigarette.

"I won't be lugging you around, doofus." You laughed, kicking his boots with your heel. "I dunno. You do need a bit of a boost in the social department. Every girl I know has a story about you, Edward Munson."

"Yeah, I know. Got outta control on tours. But you know I've been doing better, we talked in the studio about how big of an idiot I used to be. But I'm tryin'. Apologizin' and shit! I don't want you to feel like you gotta save me. I'm working on that myself!"

"I've witnessed the progress you've made! Lita called last week to gossip and she didn't curse your name once!" You noted, dropping the name of the mutual friend and one Eddie's many ex-lovers.

"See! You don't need to be fake married to me. I'm my own personally savior. Hey, that's a good lyric..."

"Listen. If we did this, it's mostly because I'm worried about the album's release being threatened. And only a little bit because I would want to help clean your social slate and save you from being dropped from the label. So..."

"Awe, you like me enough to clean up after me? Gives me reason to keep making messes..." Eddie sing songed, breathing out smoke and shooting you a wink that made your eyes roll. You had been given a small thrill when you helped Eddie escape disaster upon your first meeting. You wouldn't mind having to look out for him for a few more months in a row.

"Look, do you want my help or not? My offer is about to be swiftly redacted!" You'd been moved to this major act of charity after spending that week in the studio, learning about the guy behind the guitar. He was much more than all those famous songs and infamous rumors and those silly rambled in the broken elevator. He was funny and smart and you liked him enough by now to consider doing this insane fucking thing. But too, there was a pit opening in your stomach that warned if you didn't do exactly as Kelsey wished, he would fuck shit up for you worse than he originally threatened.

"Okay! It seems like we're doing this. But no lugging me, got it!" Eddie sighed past his smoke, decided all of the sudden. You barely had time to process what you'd both agreed to before agreeing, but there you were.

"No lugging!" You echoed, rounding your shoulders as you slinked back into the room with the papers. You didn't like your work being held over your head. But you didn't see much harm in letting the rumors go on a little longer. You were looking at the tabloid cover story about what a perfect couple you made. All very sanguine. Why fix something that wasn't broken?

The pair of you signed on the dotted line.

That same afternoon, you were sent to pick out wedding bands. You quite admired a tiger-eye stone; but before you could ask how much it would cost, Kelsey had picked out gaudy diamond studded rings for both you and Eddie. You then realized this wasn't your relationship at all. None of this was up to you. But you'd be expected to act as if it was.

///

The Beverly Hills Hotel 1986 -

"Tell us about the wedding! Did you write your own vows?" A voice called from a pit full of reporters, each one of them as sly and insatiable as the last.

You and Eddie were sat shoulder to shoulder at the press conference meant to discuss your collaboration album that hit shelves the midnight before. And too, Eddie was meant to announce his L.A residency and you were meant to announce your upcoming tour. But you both knew your alleged wedding would be the subject on the tip of every tongue. This was it. The real test.

"I wanted to sing my vows but apparently that was too theatrical." Eddie joked, charming the room, shooting winks and stretching out smiles. What a fucking bullshitter.

"You've always been a showoff." You glanced to the man out of the corner of your eye as you spoke into your mic on the table before you. He was eating this up.

"That's right. I'm my best self in the spotlight. So now I'd like to announce for the next two months I've accepted a residency at the Roxy. One show every weekend until November. Dates will be in Rolling Stone this Monday!"

Cameras clicked and voices muddled over one another as reporters clamored to ask a million things. Your manager picked one man with a notepad out of the mix. His question was for you.

"Will you be able to enjoy a honeymoon before your husband goes back to work?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes,

"I'll be going to work myself. I'm touring this summer, a few dates need decided before tickets go on sale next week. We've got to promote this new album. Any questions about Steel & Stone? Any at all?"

The crowd roared louder than before. Reporters demanded to know why you and Eddie would be spending so much time apart so soon after tying the knot. Questions about the strength of your love and were directed at you like shrapnel. They wanted to know how two musicians with separate demanding schedules could maintain a happy life as a couple. They wanted to know why a honeymoon had failed to be arranged.

"If you must know, we're spending the weekend in Hawaii. Then, my wife and I will get to work promoting this very well made new album that you should all buy and review warmly!"

Oh, this motherfucker. Eddie was concerned about you lugging him around given this arrangement? Well, he never warned you about the bullshit antics he was eager to pull first shot he got a chance. You should have known better than to sign up for anything with this wildcard of a man.

To your surprise, Eddie's little joke couldn't be left to rest. By the end of the press conference Kelsey had your meetings canceled and a flight booked for Honolulu Friday morning. Shit, this was about to be a really weird year.

On the way out of the conference hall, you let Eddie kiss you on the cheek where the cameras could see before hurrying into a shared limo.

"Are you sure you wanna spend two days and three nights in Hawaii together?" You wondered, settling into the ride as it started zooming off. "You might get so sick of me we blow this whole thing."

"Relax babe, we'll be so chill beach side that we won't worry about stuff like that. Plus, why not make the most of this thing? Enjoy it!" Eddie shrugged and looked at you with a softness in his gaze. You saw a reflection of exhaustion you recognized. You both worked hard. Maybe it was time to sit back while the ride whirled on, for now.

"Plus, I'd rather play it cool with you for five more months than get sued for breaking contract." Eddie winked at you and popped open the limos complementary bottle of Champaigne.

///

New York 1988 -

"I wrote my first album at eighteen years old. Sold out Madison Square Garden by 19. Made three platinum records by 20. But Eddie gifted me the song that made my third album the nation's best seller for three months in a row. He played guitar on that track because I asked him too. He squirmed his way onto four more tracks because he was that charming. He was that good. He was one of the best guitarists I knew."

You bragged to Rolling Stone, watching her take notes and nod along, grinning past her cigarette. As she scribbled away you thought back to that time with reverence.

That invitation to play on Steel & Stone was never meant to be more than just that. An invitation for Eddie to play in your studio for a couple hours. But that invitation morphed into a lasting connection no one could have seen coming. You didn't regret that it happened. But perhaps if you hadn't let your management teams concoct such a devious plan to pair the two of you up contractually, you and Eddie would have been spared a world of hurt.

Eddie was one year younger than you but perhaps somehow even more famous. Maybe because he was a man, but probably because he was more talented. You could write, you could sing. But so could Eddie. He wrote and sang and played guitar and bass and drums and was a wizard behind any sound booth. A musician's musician through and through. It's something you admired about him.

But Eddie, like yourself, was a rockstar. He was reckless and late and messy and incorrigible. When the pair of you really got going, you'd bicker like bitches. When you were forced to make appearances together, the bantering made the tabloids. And apparently, sold records too. You'd seen the numbers yourself. Associating with Eddie was good for your career, back then. And vice versa.

"Next question."

///

Hawaii 1986 -

Brooke handled booking your fake honeymoon, thank God. She actually asked where you'd like to stay, how you'd like to spend your false vacation. You fantasized about a tiny little bungalow with shops nearby enough to walk to and days free of any plans.

After your plane landed and your cab ride stopped, you were left standing before the cottage of your dreams. Behind a wooden picket fence was a green home with wide windows, cozy and inviting. You hurried up the porch steps, dragging your suitcase as fast as the heavy thing would follow.

Inside was warm and homey as you could have imagined, big comfy furniture cluttered around a fireplace. A square kitchen with walls full of cabinets, plants on the large stretched out windowsills, a staircase that led to just three bedrooms. The lack of extravagance made you realize you didn't feel at home at all in your ridiculous Hollywood estate. There was more space in that home than you could fill with money or good intention. But this quiet and calm seaside bungalow would break your heart to leave, you already knew.

"Look, they already stocked the fridge," Eddie laughed behind where you admired the homes decor. "Benefits of super stardom I suppose." You turned to meet him where he stood when something else caught your eye.

"Brooke left a note." You realized, finding her scrawl on the kitchen island.

'The next three days are mostly yours to do what you please. But you must be seen out together at least once a day, given the rules of your contract. There are a row of shops a few minutes west of here and there are dinner reservations at the cities most renowned restaurant on your last night. The details and address is at the bottom of this note.'

"Right." You laughed. "It's 'our time to do as we please,' so long as we follow their rules."

"And that's the drawback of super stardom." Eddie pointed, bending to pick up both of your bags, heading toward the stairs. He announced that he'd leave your stuff in the bigger room, assuming there would be one. You announced a thanks for his chivalry and roamed toward the patio doors that opened to a private pool. Past the little garden area was the most spectacular view of the ocean, the roar of the waves providing glorious white noise.

"So... what do we do now?" You called out to your weekend roommate who you lost amongst the floor plan. You thought he was still upstairs. But as you shut the patio doors, Eddie appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a guitar case in hand.

"Wanna write?"

So with the sun setting and nothing better to do, you sat across from Eddie on opposite ends of the cozy living space and hummed along as he made up chords for what felt like forever. Neither of you spoke much, only letting your craft occupy the time.

How funny this was, in a weird sort of way. When you met Eddie, it wasn't like you were meeting at all. It was as if you'd always known each other. Banter wasn't just easy with him, it was natural. But now, once the pair of you had been left completely alone, the silence between the pair of you was full of tension. He'd look past his curly fringe every once in a while, to shoot you a grin when he liked a melody you came up with. And you'd ask him to show you a tab or two. What happened to the effortless chatter? Why was there a buzzing in your chest in his presence, all of a sudden? It was time to get up, it had to be dinner time now.

You expected the counter space to be full of liquor, as food and drink of all kinds had been stocked. But not a single adult beverage was in your line of sight. You opened a couple of cabinets until you finally found a single bottle of cabernet. Your favorite brand too, thank God.

"I'm making pasta and opening some wine. Do you want a glass?" You called out, knowing Eddie was still one room away.

"No, no." He sighed. "I really shouldn't."

"Shouldn't you? We're supposed to be relaxing and indulging!" You teased, still only getting one glass down from the open-faced cupboard.

"I kind of just got out of rehab." He called back. The news was a shock to you, since you'd met him blindingly drunk, and he hadn't left town since you'd made his acquaintance.

"Oh?"

You listened to the clatter of Eddie's instrument into its case as you found ingredients for your planned meal. His presence in the room was made soon after.

"Went to rehab. Two months. Told everyone I was recording, managed to put out Chains of Sorrow in a reasonable amount of time to make the fans believe I'd been in the studio all that time. I've been doing better." Eddie explained. The solo track he referenced came out four months before you'd met him. You asked if it bothered him that you were drinking now and he gave you a stern no.

"You've been doing better. But not always sober?" You daringly quizzed, Watching the man you fake married move from the far end of the kitchen, closer toward you.

"Recovering, not completely recovered." He grinned, leaning against the marble island. "Call it what you'd like. I've gotten good at only getting smashed at parties and saying no everything other time."

"And how many parties have you been to?" You smiled, casting the guy a suspicious glance.

"Can I help you with dinner?" He chuckled, shaking his head to your previous question. You considered the guy before you, his loosely buttoned cutoff flannel, the flutter of his eyes.

"Come, I'll show you how to make my special spaghetti sauce." You laughed. Eddie smiled in response but did not move per your request. He stood and took a hissing breath in before meeting your gaze to say,

"Before we stray too far from the topic... I have a terrible confession."

You stared at the guy, eyes flickering from his withheld grin to the tattoos on his arms.

"I don't remember meeting you at all. When my manager told me I planned to crash your studio I was so embarrassed. Did I make a complete fool of myself that night?"

"You would have if I didn't help you outrun an angry bartender. And you did ask for my autograph. Like three times. But I got us stuck in an elevator." You chuckled, handing Eddie a knife and placing a trio of tomatoes before him.

"Oh... my God."

"I promised to sign my first record, but you never brought it to the studio... I guess because you didn't remember." You pieced together, setting out other ingredients to add to your sauce as the pasta boiled on the stove. The realization that Eddie had blacked out during your first adventure together selfishly stung. You were left to carry the fond memory all alone. Left to wonder what else he may forget in the future, left to wonder why that might matter much at all to you.

"Alright, I'm going to be perfectly suave on this trip. No more being completely stupid." Eddie grinned and proceeded to follow your instructions on making dinner. The pair of you went on to laugh and cook and talk about Hollywood gossip until midnight.

When it was time for bed, Eddie followed you up the stairs. He went down one hall and you went down another, but not before casting a glance over your shoulder to find Eddie was looking back too.

///

The sun was especially warm the next morning, the rays soothing your skin from the window before the light opened your eyes.

You rose with an anxious glee, excited to find where the day would take you, but nervous all the same. Ever since ending up in this predicament with Eddie, his company made your heartbeat a little heavier. Your connection was an amusement ride, an adventure, an experience.

When you padded out into the main room, you found the patio doors wide open. Your eyes followed a set of footprints in the sand that belonged to Eddie, who was milling about the shore, looking for shells. You smiled to yourself and went about making some coffee, watching the man from the comfort of shelter.

After your morning cuppa and a little nourishment, Eddie popped his head in the doorway.

"Hey!" He called. His curls were dripping sea water onto the hardwood, his chest rising and falling quickly. Did he run up here?

"You're getting the doorway all wet!"

"Come out here with me! The waves are beautiful."

"The ocean freaks me out, Eddie!" You revealed. Would have sooner if his declaration about going to Hawaii wasn't so sudden and so public.

"Awe man!" He rang like a disgruntled grade schooler. "Well at least come walk the shore with me. We have to be seen together, remember?"

There were resorts and shops easily seen to the west of your private beach front. There were surly paps and press waiting nearby to score shots of you and Eddie after his announcement about coming to stay here.

"Ugh, okay." You huffed, declaring something about finding your bikini. You and Eddie had signed a contract. And there was one clear rule. Be seen together as much as possible.

You found Eddie on the shoreline again and trekked to meet him. He smiled at you and asked once more if you'd join him in the sea. The waves were roaring, and the vastness of the water sent a chill down your spine. Your hesitation was answer enough for Eddie, who shrugged and nodded and started walking along the sea's edge, holding out his hand for you to join him.

He let you keep hold of him as the pair of you meandered along the shore, a little closer toward the resorts in the distance. Your ever dancing nerves fell away as the pair of you talked about space and time and the existence of mythical creatures. And at the end of your fantastical conversation Eddie went quiet, letting his deep eyes search your face.

"Should I kiss you? Ya know, in case someone is watching?" He asked matter of factly, stalling in the sunlight that sparkled through his glittering sand sprinkled curls.

"What if no one is watching?" You countered, daring to reach out and loop one of your fingers around Eddies, holding on. The guy simply shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Considering the rules, you were meant to follow, you let a small nod tilt your chin. Eddie watched you come to a positive conclusion and took his sweet time leaning in. Eddie stalled for a moment, letting his breath fam across your lips, and you thought that was curious. For a kiss just meant for show, he was sure being timid.

"Eddie, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want too." You chuckled only to lighten the tension. He grinned in response, letting his dark eyes dart across your features.

"That's the problem, babe." He rose a brow. "I really want to. More than I ought to."

That made you pause and consider this whole crazy thing. You thought of how you got into this predicament and how Eddie was looking at you now, and the billions of things you wanted to say. In the time you stayed quiet and full of consideration for how to move on, Eddie became too antsy to let you say more at all.

"Should we go back in?"

"No," You shook your head. "No let's enjoy the weather." You assured, reaching a handout to brush Eddie' bicep as if to reassure him. So that's just what you did. You kicked about, dodged waves that came to close to the shore, and baked in the sun until it started to lower from its highest point in the sky.

After running in, washing up, and realizing there was still so much time left to waste, you talked Eddie into going out. You asked him to put on something nice and call a cab to drop the pair of you off at a local place by the sea.

Per the suggestion of the local driver, you and Eddie ended up at a quaint little outdoor eatery. The staff was so delighted by your surprise appearance that they invited you and Eddie to skip the line, sat you at their alleged best table, and poured you each a complimentary glass of champagne.

You tried to wave the waiter off, to dismiss them from giving Eddie the glass of sparkling wine.

"S'okay. Don't wanna be rude." Eddie insisted, taking a small sip out of obligation. You rose a brow and sat back and decided it was a night out. Eddie had said he was doing better. You chose to believe him and placed your order for the night.

"So," You spoke. "Should we come up with an elaborate backstory? Some swoon worthy anecdote about how you asked me to be your wife? A sickly sweet first date memory?"

"I think the story we have is suitable enough. You stopped me from making a fool of myself at a party, let me play on your badass new album, and I fell head over heels." Eddie laughed, but despite himself, it seemed. He breathed out a small sigh as he settled his elbows on the table. It seemed he was trying to say more.

"Everything okay, dear?" You emphasized the pet name to poke fun at your situation. You watched as the well-dressed man chewed his lip in contemplation.

"This whole thing... are you sure you're okay with it?" You knew what he meant.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not hurting us, is it? It's helping you out of the hole you're in with the label and it's selling our album. I never thought I'd be married for real but, this isn't so bad."

"What are you talking about? Everyone loves you. " He pointed, sitting up a little straighter.

"Everyone loves my persona." You pointed, lifting a finger as Eddie rose a brow. "Everyone loves my music. Loving me, is another story. Loving me is personal. I can't imagine letting anyone in that vulnerably, anymore."

"Oh, anymore?" Eddie quipped, sitting back as the waiter brought complimentary appetizers. You were going to refrain from drinking to make Eddie feel more comfortable, but at the turn of topics, you reached for the glass to calm the jitters.

"You know how I needed a someone to play guitar on my album?" You recalled. Eddie nodded, obviously. "Well, that's because I let my last guitarist get to know me a little too well."

You downed your champagne and was delighted when a staff member dropped another off right on cue.

"Go on, please..." Eddie motioned with a fork, taking a bite of food and staring at you with curious intensity.

"Well I'm sure you've heard the rumors." You shrugged.

"I have." Eddie carefully admitted. "But I always figured they were nothing more than just rumors. I do want to hear your side of the story..."

"My last guitarist and I had a fling. And right when I started to think I loved him... well it just didn't work out. So after the breakup, this motherfuker went around telling every studio musician that the only way they could play on my album was in exchange for sex. He said that was the price he had to pay. As if we hadn't been dating." You began with a scoff. "He took it further by telling the press I slept my way to the top. Probably because I wasn't giving him the time of day near then end and he was bitter that I'd been with so many others who are far more relevant than he'll ever be."

You reveled to Eddie some of the more horrific details of your last disastrous relationship and how it ended, because he asked. Eddie seemed to genuinely listen to the details you gave. Eddie took a few more sips of champagne.

"Fuck that dude to the moon and back. You didn't tell me I had the shoes of an asshole to fill!" Eddie grumbled past his mouth full of food.

"That's because I didn't want you filling his shoes. I like your shoes. I like you. And I'm grateful you played on my album and that crazy as it is, that we're in this fucked up situation together."

"This just... isn't how I wanted things to be with you."

"Oh?" You wondered, taking a hesitant bite of the dinner that had just been delivered.

"I mean... the whole thing with the contract and the lie. I thought I could ask you out for a nice dinner, like a normal date. I feel shitty about having trapped you in some kind of publicity stunt."

"You wanted to take me out for real?" You grinned, settling into your posture.

"I did. But now it's this whole circus and it's so disingenuous. I don't want you to think I'm getting to know you because I'm contractually obligated."

"You're a sweetheart, you know that?" You smiled. Eddie smiled back, and seemed to wait for you to speak further, but you had nothing more to say, you couldn't have any more to say. You planned to keep your heart on lock down. You planned to remain closed off. Being open and willing with others had only resulted in heartache in the past, in this industry. And you couldn't imagine that with Eddie. You wanted to enjoy your time with Eddie.

"I'm not willing to let my guard down for you, Eddie. But we can make the most of our circumstance, if you really want."

"What do you mean?" He puzzled, brow furrowed.

"Ask me again back at the house." You shrugged and smiled and sipped more champagne.

Dinner went on between bits of conversation that grew deeper each sentence. Eddie revealed childhood traumas. You voiced secrete fears about your career. The pair of you laughed hard over old jokes you'd heard on TV specials and picked four albums each you'd bring on deserted islands. You each finished one more glass of champagne.

Hawaii was stunning, even at night. You wondered if Eddie made the comment knowing how lovely it was here, if he needed such a rejuvenating get away. He seemed less at ease as the evening went on, however, chewing at his lip and wringing his hands the whole ride home. You hoped you plans for tonight would change that... but he had to ask you that question again.

///

Back at the house you stood, squinting to see the midnight waves from the patio doorway. Relishing their sounds, the crash of the ocean, the breeze through the windchimes near the pool. This was proving to be a very relaxing getaway indeed. You could get used to Eddies ideas. He was off up the stairs, getting ready to call it an evening you presumed. But then he appeared in his swim trunks, headed straight for the hot tub on the patio. He announced his intentions and halfheartedly invited you to join.

How curious, you thought, Eddie was so magnetic, but every time the pair of you became secluded in this home, he seemed to hide a bit of himself away all the same. You understood it, of course. Youd just admitted to doing the very same. But the pair of you had been more than open with each other by now. What had him so aloof here?

You shrugged, and spun to put on a record while concocting a plan. Of course you were banking on Eddie bringing up the question you once reminded him too, but a little nudge wouldn't hurt. After picking a Chet Baker album to spin, you decidedly flounced over toward the hot tub, watching Eddie rest there with his gaze locked on you.

"You're supposed to join me, remember?" He called, sinking a little lower beneath the bubbling waters. You watching his dark eyes fix on yours, and made your decision.

"If you insist." You smiled. The silky dress you'd worn to dinner would surely be ruined by the chemically enhanced waters. So, you slipped it off right there on the patio and hurried to the hot tub in undergarments that were just as good as any bikini.

"Happy now?" You rang, sinking so far below the water that only your eyes floated above the surface, locking on to Eddies still intensely held gaze.

"Delighted in the throes of post false marital bliss." Eddie laughed, a breathy sound he seemed to have to force a little. His eyes tore away from yours, looking for a distraction. "Shame they gave us the rings you don't like, though." He held a hand up from the bubbles to consider his diamond studded band. Yours matched because it had too.

"The rings are ugly. But we've made it work well so far I think. Haven't been this sure of a relationship since Steve Vai, you know?" It was a joke, but it was not. You'd loved your time with Steve. It was your most renowned relationship in the eyes of the press and all your friends to date. And though this time with Eddie was a sham, the connection you had to him felt frighteningly natural.

"Fuckin' Vai. Why'd you guys break up anyway? Seemed good together."

"Steve got back with his college girlfriend around the same time I opened for Metallica. Kirk swept me off my feet."

"You and Kirk? So that really happened." Eddie gapped at you with a grin. You'd kept that relationship on the down low, though a few good paparazzi photos tried to test the limits of the connection you'd had with the metal guitarist. He broke your fucking heart, ending things when that tour was said and done.

"I have a type, it seems. Dark haired dreamy eyed guitarists." The one before you now was the most intriguing of them all. And he knew it too. He had too. The way his eyes locked on yours changed. The way silence fell between the pair of you rang loud with anticipation, no matter who might speak next.

"What did you mean earlier?" Eddie finally wondered.

"When I said we could make the most of this, if you wanted?" You grinned, staying put for a beat longer in the spot you'd been floating. What you were about to suggest would either make or break the next five months you were meant to endure together. You sincerely hoped it would land well. You watched Eddie nod for you to continue.

"Well, I simply won't allow myself to fall in love with you." You prefaced, inching closer. It was easy to move through the water, stalling centimeters away from the man who shared the space with you. You could feel the heat radiating from Eddies form- even though the warmth of the bubbling water. "But I wouldn't mind enjoying the benefits of having a partner, even if we're just playing pretend." You dared to glide flush against the rockstar, resting each of your knees on either side of his lap with calculated caution. A set of his fingers brushed against your thigh in an instant, but that could have been a reflex. You needed a yes or no.

"Wanna have fun while this is meant to last?" You asked in a hush, your fingers resting gently on Eddies broad shoulders. His other hand came to rest on your hip. His faltered smirk gave you confidence to lean in for a kiss no one could see.

He kissed you back, lips timidly locked against yours, muscles tense under your fingers. But after a couple more careful pecks, his passion grew. Eddies lips parted against yours, and a sigh escaped his lips. You had him right where you wanted him. He grabbed you, nails dug into your hips, teeth piercing against your neck.

You had no fear raking your fingers through his curls to claw at the roots of his hair, maneuvering him to kiss your lips again. Eddie did so intensely, tongue jammed down your throat. His grip pulling you closer, his hips jutting up against yours. You couldn't wait much longer to go all the way, body language suggesting that's how far the pair of you would take this, it seemed.

Eddie whined a curse as your hand slipped below his waist band, kissing hard as ever. He let his fingers drift across your form until he reached the hem on your underwear, yanking them to the side. Before you knew it you were sliding into his lap as he pushed completely into you. Eddies fingers bruised against your hips and your nails dug into the back of his neck. You both rocked together, slack jawed and doe eyed, gazes fastened.

When your efforts were exhausted and passions simmered, Eddie moved your underwear back, and fixed his shorts all the same. He let his lips press against your forehead, leaving a couple gentle pecks there. He let his fingers brush against your face, cradling your cheek as his eyes fluttered to land on yours.

"That was amazing." Eddie stressed all the right syllables. "But please... never fucking do that again."

You were too stunned to respond. Frozen now in complete confusion. Luckily, he had more to say.

"If you won't let me really love you, I can't do what we just did again. Because I'm already dangerously close to really loving you. And it would suck to have my feelings fucked around with. I understand if you aren't willing to open up. But please understand that's where we're very different." Eddie chose his words carefully and watched your eyes as he explained himself.

"O- okay." You managed to nod. "Yeah, I hear you." It was a reasonable explanation, an understandable stance. But you felt that familiar pit opened up inside you while he spoke. And it felt more empty and hollow than ever.

Despite that, you tried to cling to the fact that you'd just had the pleasure of shagging the guy, and how divine it was to feel him pull you closer the whole time. You reveled in Eddie's kindness as he helped you out of the hot tub. He guided you inside and upstairs and insisted you be the first to use the one shared bathroom. You knew this was going to be a weird year. But it kept getting weirder.

///

The next morning, you woke just before the sun. With quiet steps, you readied yourself in the loo and headed downstairs, out the door. Desperate for the freedom of normalcy, you started walking in the direction of the shops Brooke had left directions too. After a couple blocks, a variety of bodegas came into view. There were hardly any cars or bikes on the street, and only a few pedestrians popping from one shop to the next.

This was perfect. If there was any commotion over your presence here, it would likely be very minimal. A stall selling fresh fruit and veg was being opened by an older gentleman as you admired a cart full of flowers a foot away. Some store fronts were still closed as the early morning was still new. But the handful you slinked in and out of were open and occupied by people who were more or less unphased by you. A few whispers and pointed fingers among friends, and stares and smiles from clerks was perfectly tolerable. You offered them smiles and waves as you admired locally made clothes and lotions and oils.

But men with cameras waited outside, word spreading fast that you'd made your way into town. There weren't many photographers, thank God, maybe five. And they were respectful as could be, calling your name and welcoming you to the island. You gave them rushed acknowledgement and waved them off when they demanded to know where Eddie was. They didn't need to know he was sleeping soundly in the spare room of your shared bungalow. But they could watch as you decided to buy fresh produce from the little local man at the edge of the hamlet. A nice big breakfast sounded nice.

As you thanked the vendor and made your way to head home, the men with cameras began to follow your footsteps. You dreaded having to beg them away. But this time, you didn't have to. The vendor who'd sold you a canvas bag full of produce shouted ardently enough to get the paparazzi to stay back and let you be on your way. You knew you'd love it here. You knew it would be hard to go back to L.A. but you didn't have to yet. The only thing on your agenda was to make breakfast.

Eddie was already in the kitchen when you'd walked back. You could tell from the sound of a mug rattling against the counterspace and the drip of the coffee machine. He rolled his shoulders to adjust to the morning as you carried your fresh food into the little room.

"I popped to the shops! It was sort of nice. There were only a few paps out."

"Did they bother you?" Eddie seemed to worry, locking a puzzled gaze on you before peeking in on what groceries you brought home.

"Almost. But a nice older shop owner shooed them off from following me home. I really like it here." You lamented, not taking a single moment for granted. Soaking up the sights and sounds of the kitchen as you opened the white chipped cupboards, catching glances of the ocean out the window. You announced your intentions to make breakfast and Eddie hummed past his coffee. He stayed quiet afterward, lingering as you mucked about with pots and cutting boards.

The room was full of quiet tension again. Not like something ominous was near happening. Just the weight of the obvious being unspoken. You knew Eddie liked you more than he should. And you both knew you couldn't let yourself feel the same. Knowing all this, you went on slicing tomatoes. And turning on the radio. And switching stations when one of your songs came on.

The rest of the trip was spent in quiet; shared meals and movie marathons on one particular rainy afternoon. Small conversations and one last wordless jam session.

You were really going to miss it here.

///

L.A. 1986 -

It was Eddie's debuted at the Roxy, the first of a string of already sold-out shows. He asked you to perform with him to kick things off.

Backstage, you hesitantly watched his bandmates pour him several shots. You helped him decide what to wear and let him give you a sloppy kiss in front of a reporter. His tongue jammed toward your throat, his hands splayed against your hips, and he continued even after the snaps from the camera ended. Then, when the room got a little quieter, and when you were starting to lose feeling in your lips, Eddie pulled away and murmured something in your ear.

"Felt like a real kiss. Wish it was. Wish you'd really wanna be my girl." His words slurred. He was clearly already inebriated. But it wasn't like he was wasted. The words shot a thousand feelings from your heart into your nervous system, anger being the most immediately powerful. You shoved the man's shoulders to loosen his grasp on you, his face fell. The reporter's camera started clicking again.

"You're pushing your luck." You warned. He was trying to get a rise out of you, right? He was trying to get you to cause a scene for the photographer to capture, right? He was whiskey talking, right? He said your name and tried to reach for you as you blocked his advances.

"Go toward the stage." You demanded, turning the musician by the shoulders in the right direction. He protested for you to listen, but you couldn't do this right now. You couldn't imagine doing this ever. He knew you couldn't let yourself go there.

"Shut the hell up Eddie. You've got a show to put on. I'll meet you out there. Son of a bitch." You whined, shoving the musician toward the side stage as he tried to get you to wait up. But he was being introduced and the cheers from the crowd called the man to saunter toward the mic center stage.

Why the fuck did he say all that? You couldn't stop playing it over and over in your head. Why did it make your heart stop a little? You stole the bottle of whiskey from a stagehand and went to shake out your jitters in his dressing room. You had three songs until you would share the mic with Eddie. That gave you time for a drink and a half, a few vocal warmups, and a sudden costume change into suede platforms that made your toes a little less constricted.

Just as you stomped into your last boot, a stage hand came rushing over, stealing back the bottle of whiskey and pulling you toward the stage. You stormed into the spotlight where you met Eddie, playing a riff that a steady drumbeat accompanied. He started singing, staring right at you while you added harmonies you could barely hear over the cheers from the crowd. It was the single from Steel & Stone. It was a packed house, audience from stage to sidewalk outside the entry. An Eddie sized crowd. He deserved bigger yet, you thought.

The pair of you stared each other down throughout the next couple songs, and you danced next to the bass player when Eddie broke into a few guitar solos. When the last song you were meant to share ended, you bowed, thanking the people in the front row. But Eddie spoke into the mic.

"Baby, baby, wait don't leave." He sing-songed, stopping your exit with a breathy plea. "No, not yet. She's about to leave for three months ya'll." Eddie addressed the audience who awed in commiseration. The fuck was this about? A public display of sorrow so the nearest magazine reporter could write in that Eddie seemed to really adore his wife in the middle of the review for this show?

"Why don't you sing one more song. Just you. Just for me. Before you go." Eddie looked at you, his voice echoing from the stage to the back of the venue. The crowd applauded the idea and you paused in consideration. You rarely passed up the opportunity to preform, but this was Eddies' show. You decided since he was giving you puppy dog eyes, and a room full of a few hundred were chanting for you to do it, you would.

"Okay but it's gonna be one of your songs, got it? You gotta come see me on tour if you want one of mine." You took the mic, and as he stepped away Eddie smiled and said "Deal."

You picked your favorite Corroded Coffin number and the band behind you knew exactly where to jump in almost right away. Eddies music was heavy and hard to sing, but you'd gotten pretty good at it, putting on fake concerts on the patio of that little Hawaiian bungalow.

You sang your heart out, you sang for Eddie like he'd asked. He played toward the left of the stage, mesmerized by your every move. The number ended with the thrash of a few cymbals and the crowd going wild. As you backed away from the mic, Eddie came toward you. You met him halfway, planted a kiss on his lips for show, but also partly for revenge's sake. You hoped the gesture would leave him as frustratedly guessing as his left you.

///

LAX 1986 -

"We land in Ireland, I'll play two shows. Then it's Glasgow, Manchester, London, and then France. You're coming to Paris, right?" You listed off the first half of your European leg as Eddie matched the pace you set; a steady march down the tarmac of the airport. He had an arm tossed over your shoulder for show, and his head bent in to hear you better as you spoke up past the roar of the jet you approached. Beyond the aircraft were a roped off coral of press and fans who'd gathered to see you off. Their shouts didn't make conversation any easier. But their smiles when you offered a gentle wave settled the usual despair in the pit of your stomach.

"Yes, three weeks from today, I'll be seeing you again in the most romantic city of all." Eddie grinned as you stalled to face him.

"I hope your Roxy gigs stay sold out. You can call me to brag about em if you'd like." You smiled up to the guy, admiring his hair that moved with the gentle morning breeze. You'd miss his companionship. You'd grown quite fond of having a friend nearby, despite being almost strictly business partners. That's all this was, you reminded yourself.

"I'll take you up on that offer. You better call me at least when you make it safely overseas. And anytime at all, if you want." Eddie grinned at the same time he let a hand smooth the back of your hair. His fingers settled loosely at the base of your neck to pull you close for a kiss to the forehead, for show, you reckoned. Eddie insisted on walking you onboard the flight and you took the time to introduce him to the band you'd be traveling with.

Izzy, the bassist, had only ever played on Neil Young's tours. The guy was excited for a change of pace, touring with you. Ambrose the guitarist was new to the scene but a damn fine player. He'd seemed to keep almost totally to himself. Your drummer was called Zed. He asked Eddie for a spare cigarette and informed you he'd brought snacks for the plane ride. Everyone was nice enough, but your nerves stood on end when you realized you were about to be far from home with a bunch of practical strangers and your vile ass manager to boot.

"I'll call you right when we land." You nodded to Eddie, who lingered near the exit of the jet. But it was less because he'd asked you to call, and more now because you knew you'd be a little desperate to hear a familiar voice as soon as you'd be able too. But Eddie didn't need to know that.

///

Ireland was beautiful. You hadn't quiet found a friend in any of your new band mates by then. But since Kelsey was busy managing a whole new team of people, his pressures never quiet landed on you, those first few days. You knew the steps to take around that maniac of a man. What to say and withhold to keep from setting the manager off. So, things seemed to be going well.

You told Eddie as much when you rang him the next three nights in a row, and laughed as he told you a story of his recent invitation to lunch with the Osbornes. Eddie had a newer, wilder story every night. And you swore you slept better when he wished you well at the end of every chat.

You were hopeful for this tour. The first few shows flew by with ease. You'd hardly had many kinks to work out with the new band. You were able to keep to yourself. You were treated like royalty by every villa foreman, wait staff member and venue manager.

But on the ride from Manchester to London, something shifted. You wanted to blame the dreary weather. You wanted to blame end of the fortnight fatigue. But a gnawing deep in the pit of your core warned you that something was simply not right. You mulled over telling Eddie. Calling him to ask if he thought you might be going crazy. If he believed in the power of premonitions. You didn't feel like you could ask that same question to Ambrose or Izzy. They'd hardly given you the time of day, off stage. Maybe you'd try with Zed, who'd offered you countless snacks and played a couple heated rounds of eye spy with you from city to city. But what if your desire for a deeper connection scared off the one potential friend you had in your drummer? What if asking Eddie if he thought you were going crazy made him realize you probably were, and he couldn't even pretend to be your friend anymore, let alone your lover? Why were you letting yourself care?

"Practicing telekinesis?" Zed interrupted your internal downward spiral by plopping down at your side on the aisle seat of the plane. "You've been staring a hole through this page of Rolling Stone for at least a half hour."

"Oh, hi." You huffed a laugh, shutting the magazine you'd forgotten was open in your lap. "Just thinking." You sighed, settling deeper into your chair.

"Don't let Kelsey know." Zed scoffed. "It's his ideas or nothing around here isn't it? Why does he have to kill the vibe so bad?"

"I hope he isn't starting his bullshit already. This tour has been fine! He just has this sick desire for things to go his way, whether they're going well or not."

"We're in for a looong tour, then, huh?" Zed rolled his eyes and stole the magazine you'd shut. Whether or not anyone around you believed in the power of intuition, you knew something bad was coming.

///

The phone line buzzed and buzzed. Almost to the same beat as a drip of rainwater from your balcony doorway. The streets of London sounded frenzied even from far off. You were about to let out your held breath and hang up when someone finally answered.

"Hellooooo?" A high pitched greeting came across the other line. Certainly not the tone you'd been expecting to hear. Another wave of trepidation dawned in your gut. But instead of admitting to yourself that much, you decided to match the girl's inflection.

"Hiiii." You wickedly grinned, hoping what you said next would wash the girl over with the same unease. "This is Eddie's wife. I'm sure he has a minute to spare."

"Oh." The girls pitch shifted immediately as the receiver became muffled. Only seconds passed before the person you were calling finally picked up.

"You just scared the shit out of her." Eddie chuckled. "It's not funny but it's... it's a little funny."

"I'm cracking up." You rolled your eyes. "Listen is there any way you can book a flight a day early for Paris?"

"Nice to hear from you too. Geeze, what's got you sounding so serious and scary?"

"This tour!" You snapped, but followed with a groan. "I'm sorry I just- I need a night off or something."

"I hear you." Eddie seemed to understand. "I'm sure I can catch a flight for tomorrow. What's the occasion?"

"Kelsey is booking a couple press things and demanding I get you to be a part of some of them." You twisted the phone cord around your index finger and rolled your eyes again, imagining the girl that answered the phone throwing herself back into Eddie's bed.

"Yeah, Brooke can make anything happen. I'll have her get me out there by tomorrow night. Plus the press keeps doing us wonders. You've seen last weeks write ups, calling you and me rock and roll royalty, right?" Eddie smiled; you could hear it in his voice.

"Yeah," You began. "And we've all seen this morning's Star headline. How is making out with three different girls in front of the entire Rainbow Room supposed to keep you and me a happy couple in the headlines? You gotta be more careful Eddie." You ranted, more pissed than you ought to have been about other women taking up Eddie's time and space.

"Wait, last night- that's a headline?" Eddie's tone sounded grave. "Shit. I- I'm sorry. I was drinking and..."

"Forgot." You realized, finishing his sentence. "So should I call your babysitter Brooke instead? Should I expect you not to remember this conversation?"

"Listen I don't know what's got you so agitated over there. But can you not take it out on me? I will see you tomorrow. And I will figure out a way to convince the press there are no issues. I can clean up my own messes, remember?"

"Got it. Sorry. Bye." You finalized, slamming the phone down with a heavy exhale. Right on cue, Kelsey was in your doorway, yelling about how you were going to be late to sound check if you weren't standing up and running toward the limo right then and there. You were thirty minutes ahead of schedule. But still somehow, your manager threatened to grab ahold of you if you weren't speed walking ahead of him in the next ten seconds.

Zed and Izzy appeared, rushing ahead of the rest of the band, cursing at Kelsey, demanding he lay off. But you're already hurrying to shut up his rage.

///

France 1986 -

After a break of dawn radio interview, Kelsey rushed you along to a high-end cafe where supposedly a reporter from Europe's most renowned pop culture magazine was waiting for a one on one with you. Your manager certainly knew his was around keeping you relevant but didn't seem to care if his efforts exhausted you or not. You blinked away thoughts of a nap, straightened the ripped-up suit jacket you wore over tights, and struggled not to stop in your tracks when you glanced up to a booth to find Eddie there.

He looked sleepy as you, hair all mused, ripped up Led Zeppelin tee straining against his fit figure. Eddie said he'd make it, you weren't shocked he had. But you were alarmed, more or less, by how he lit up when he saw you. And how at ease that made your entire being feel. Wishes of nap time and bubble bath breaks didn't seem as pressing any longer. You were relaxed in Eddies presence, and he hadn't even said hello. And that really freaked you out. You needed to get a fucking grip.

Brooke popped into frame too, walking up to great you with a smile and a hug. She complimented your makeup and turned to inform Kelsey the reporter was on her way inside. You gravitated toward the man waiting in the raised up booth, grinning as he smiled broadly your way.

"I told you I'd make it in time." Eddie sing songed, holding out an arm as you slid in the booth at his side. The guy pressed his ring clad hand to one side of your head and his lips to the other.

"Thank you." You rose a brow and nodded his way. "We're being interviewed together it seems. I'm sure our managers arranged this for a reason. I'm sure they'll ask about those photos with the girls you were out with. Should we get our story straight?"

"I think I have the right words ready. Anyway, since this whole thing is based on a lie, I think it's best we stay as honest as possible about everything else... avoid digging ourselves into too deep a hole." Eddie reasoned.

"Well, it's not totally based on a lie, it's not like-" You began to argue back, a little too desperate to mention that you liked Eddie enough to agree to this whole crazy thing with him. You couldn't have imagined being falsely married to anyone else. But Kelsey interrupted you, waving a warning that the reporter was walking in, alerting you to be on your best behavior. God he was becoming more unbearable as the days dragged on.

The reporter was an older woman, dressed drabber than you would've expected. She chain smoked as you and Eddie shared a diet soda and answered her questions with easy smiles.

"How is the tour going for you?" She pointed, locking her tired eyes with yours while you droned on about the professionalism of your bandmates and the electricity of your fan base and how much more connected to them you felt on the road.

"It's so much easier to get to know people when I'm playing for them, watching them sing along, meeting them after each show." You said.

"It seems that's a factor you reap the rewards of as well, Mr. Munson. You're aware that photos of you romancing a couple of fans have been spread across every major tabloid, no?"

Between the reporter's question, and Eddies deep breath in, you felt Kelsey's gaze like a dagger. And your mouth started moving before your brain stopped you otherwise.

"Of course he's aware. This is the lifestyle we each chose." You hurried to end this part of the conversation you'd been dreading.

"So, is that to say you've had these same sort of affairs?"

"That's to say that Eddie and I are happily married to each other. What happens with anyone else is irrelevant to us and should be irrelevant to the rest of the world as well."

You hoped your answer would put an end to this segment of questions as you firmly glanced to Eddie, who sat clenching his jaw. He feigned a smile right on queue, when the next question targeted his way was about how his shows were going. The interview didn't last much longer before a photographer was introduced. The man led you and Eddie toward the back garden of the cafe where you posed for a shockingly small amount of photos for the magazines cover. Eddie kept his bejeweled fingers curled at your side as you settled in his lap. You gazed down at him and searched his dark eyes, hoping he was less mad at you than he obviously was just moments ago. If he was, he played it off well, planting a kiss on your cheek as you looked back toward the flashing camera.

When the people from the magazine shook your hands and headed to leave, Kelsey bought lunch for you, Eddie and Brooke. When the managers when inside to order, Eddie pulled out a cigarette and slouched in the chair you rose from, suddenly desperate to get off his lap.

"Why did you speak for me? I was ready to own up to that shit. I was ready to say all the right things." Eddie waved a hand and let his head hang back as he breathed out smoke.

"And I'm sure you would have. But the world doesn't care about why a man cheats on his woman. They care about how the woman feels about it. And so long as they know I don't give a shit then we stay happily married. Isn't that the point of all of this? To stay happy and get this all over with as soon as possible?" You paced as you answered, stalling with a sigh at Eddies side. But you weren't done rambling...

"Can we just forget about it? That photoshoot is gonna be killer and the fact that we're being seen together after your little tryst is gonna change everyone's minds. We're doing the right things. Can we please just not worry about it anymore? I've got enough to worry about out here."

Eddie sat up and looked at you with what you hoped was concern but worried was something closer to appalment. But then he took another drag and started to nod.

"I guess I see where you're coming from." Eddie seemed to choose his words carefully. After a few more puffs he spoked once more, changing the subject. "Can I take you out after the show? Have a little fun? You're too wound up."

You looked to him and nodded, trying not to give away how much of a thrill it really was to you that he was asking this sort of thing. This tour had your emotions all frazzled and confused, damn it. You really did need a night out.

///

You put on a badass show that night. When you weren't signing to the front row, or screaming toward the sky, you were glancing to the side of the stage where Eddie stood watching. He was all smiles, clapping and mouthing encouragement you couldn't quite read but felt the well-meaning of from centre stage. Kelsey was even bearable, clapping your back when it was all said and done, finding someone else's throat to jump down for the evening. This made it easy for Eddie to sweep you away, out for a night of good old fashioned fun.

You wound up in some burlesque pub, accepting free shots and signing your autograph on dinner napkins for a dozen scantily clad dancers.

"I'll have a rum and coke." Eddie shrugged to a waiter, as a crowd of strangers clamored closer to the booth you'd occupied with your alleged man.

"Is that a good idea?" You asked, careful of your intonation. Worried only a little about Eddie finding annoyance in your question. Worried more by the idea of him with alcohol.

"I promise to handle my liquor tonight. Only drinking to celebrate the kick ass show you just put on. Hard to come down from that high and I wasn't even on stage, babe!" Eddie excused his drinking, and made you feel valuable in one suave sentence.

"Well thanks," You nodded decidedly, flagging down someone to mix you a mojito. "One drink." You hopped Eddie would echo your number, agree to the limit. But he changed the subject as if he hadn't even heard the past few words you spoke at all.

"You sounded so fucking good tonight. What warm up's are you doing to keep your screams so effortless? I'm always exhausted halfway through a set. Would never be able to tell if you were or not."

"You're full of compliments tonight." You rose a brow, speaking loud, you realized. Even though Eddie leaned in close the club was still pounding with bass and drum and crowd buzz.

"Well, I mean them." Eddie smiled. He let his eyes fall across the features of your face. He ordered another drink. Another rum and coke. He said he was following your one drink rule by not ordering something different. You couldn't help but scoff a laugh and go with the flow, not wanting the night spent by his side to sour or end. Eddie drank and laughed his way through a story about his bandmates high school prom date. He asked you where you grew up. He listened while you yammered on all the same.

And sometime between your fifth mojito, a foreigner was handing you a microphone. You didn't know quite how you wound up being dragged toward the little club stage to sing Don't Go Breaking My Heart with a man in a pristinely applied wig and bright make up. You never saw Eddie find his way toward the front of the venue either. But when you glanced out to find him laughing and cheering along in a little wicker chair, you'd felt something in your soul settle. You felt your smile grow. You felt a reason to keep singing.

When your surprise performance ended and your once in a lifetime duet partner sent you off the stage with a kiss on the cheek, Eddie stayed sat in his chair near the stage. But he'd held his arms out wide, and you didn't think twice about falling into his lap like you'd never belonged any place else. Eddies lap was warm. His arms enclosed your waist securely. His lips pressed a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you leaned back into him. You needed this. You'd been longing for comfort. For a care. A very drunken part of you was even beginning to consider calling it love. But the other well trained half of your nervous system shut out that blossoming idea.

Still, you let yourself enjoy whatever spell you were under in that little burlesque club. You sat in Eddie's lap and let him hold you while a few other performers came and went. And just before last call, Eddie nudged you from your perch and decided your night was over easily as he'd decided on making it happen for you all those hours ago.

"Thanks for that. It was fun to get out, break free from a schedule." You mentioned, walking alongside the guy. Your hotel was only two blocks away, and no one was out, with cameras or otherwise.

"Of course. I needed it too. Nothings is as fun with anyone but you these days." Eddie said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he matched your pace along the pavement.

"Easy now. Don't have to keep wooing me. No one is watching anymore." You teased, ignoring the sinking in your stomach. Ignoring those dangerous thoughts that had started to bubble in your mind back at the club.

"I know." Eddie replied, softly yet surely.

His arm stayed firm across your shoulder as he went on to joke about something that the waiter had said earlier. You laughed and rambled on down the block until your hotel came into view around a certain corner. In the glow that illuminated from inside out, stood a small gathering of your fans. Four or five friends who all danced a little at the sight of you approaching, waving your records and posters in their clutch.

"Well hello everyone." You chuckled, moving with more intention, closer to the group and out of Eddies grasp. Without a second thought you started signing albums and listening to pairs of friends tell you how much your music meant to them. You relished being able to hear their stories, to be able to connect with people who gave a fuck about you for longer than a second outside busy airport gates and vip green room meet ups.

One of the meeker girls, to your surprise, caught the attention of the man who'd been hanging back, watching with a grin as you shone.

"Eddie, can I have your autograph too?"

"Ah, you don't want mine, do you? We'd all much rather have hers." Eddie sauntered closer to the group, eyes steady on your form, you realized, when you turned to smile at him. "In fact, I'm still waiting on one myself."

The pit that usually felt like a void in your gut seemed to fill with butterflies and ocean waves then. It was getting hard to ignore the fact that you liked this man more than a little. After saying pleasant goodnights and farewells to the small group of your admirers, Eddie walked you up to your room. He did not reach out an arm across your shoulder. He did not even brush his arm against yours the whole journey seventeen stories up. The absence of touch felt heavy and hurtful.

And when you stood lingering in the doorway of your room after asking if he would come inside, he shook his head. Funny how quickly agony replaced excitement. Funny how you'd only moments ago marveled over how close enough he was to touch. How you now despised the space between you entirely.

Eddie only shoved his closed fists into his leather pockets and let his unsteady focus bounce between either of your eye's.

"You know I want to. And you know why I won't." Eddie said.

"Well..." You tried like mad to get out what you wanted to say. But you weren't even sure how you were really feeling let alone able to express that much. Your pause was too long. Eddie pressed a divine kiss to your hairline, finally closing the space in between you, but tragically ending the time you'd got to spend with him. Eddie slinked off and around the corner, out of sight, hardly out of mind.

The hall got quiet. Your heart felt loud. Must've meant bedtime.

///

A couple weeks passed by without hearing from Eddie at all. A couple weeks had passed since you'd heard from anyone but Kelsey, constantly screaming in your ear, waking you up, rushing you to sound checks, telling you to throw away breakfast because there was no time to eat it.

When the phone in your latest hotel room rang after a much-needed hour long bath, you ran to answer after its first clatter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Brooke. Do you have a minute?"

Oh, how curious. The pit in your stomach buzzed with worry as your brain collected a million reasons for Eddie's managers phone call.

"I should, yeah. How are you, Brooke?"

"I'm okay. Eddie isn't. Last night he caused a bit of a scene on stage at the Roxy, he was so drunk he could barely remember the words let alone sing them. This morning, I found him hanging out of the back of his limo, almost passed out on the side street of the Troubadour. He asked me to drive him back to rehab. He wanted you to know before you found out through the news."

You let out a long sigh. Frustrated. Worried. Confused. Brooke went on to leave you an address to write to, saying he'd asked you too.

So, after hanging up you didn't waste any time pulling out the hotel's free stationary, scribing one really long letter. You wrote about how the tour felt like hell and how you couldn't wait to be home. You wrote about how proud of Eddie you were for seeking help and taking time for himself. And you dreamed of doing the same, asking him to tell you any and everything he would be comfortable sharing.

That afternoon you left the letter in Kelsey's grasp, asking the manager to mail it. The next few days, a cycle was born. Wake up. Write Eddie, leave the letter with Kelsey, sing a bunch of songs.

Then your drummer came knocking on your door.

"Do you plan on writing Eddie anymore letters?" Zed wondered, curiously. You didn't think much of it, he'd probably seen you leaving the envelopes with your manager.

"Yeah." You shrugged.

"Well, I found a stack of them in Kelsey's room. He hasn't mailed any. So, I gave them to the front desk of the hotel to send out this morning. I hope that's okay?" Zed went on to explain that he'd figured you'd want them sent as soon as possible, hoping he hadn't crossed an odd boundary. The pit in your stomach threatened to swallow you hole. The thought of Eddie sitting in rehab, wondering if you were going to send letters like he asked, receiving nothing. You worried at the thought of letting him down, even though you'd never intended to.

"Fuck man. Thank you, Zed." You grumbled some curses against your manager and thanked your drummer a few dozen times for sending the post and letting you know what you should've known better about, you guessed. Like he'd sensed you talking shit, Kelsey slinked in the room soon after, asking you to get a move on. But you'd been ready to go. Moving faster to get the sorry excuse of a man away from your sight.

"See how much nicer things go when you don't piss me off?" Kelsey called across the hall. You begged to differ.

///

On the way to the next gig, you heard a familiar tune on the radio. Lyrics you'd written. A riff of your bass players on creation. Prince's vocals mysteriously added to the mix.

"Why is Prince singing my song?" You turned to your band who were all equally as befuddled as you, stammering different 'I don't know's.'

The from the edge of the limo came the voice you dreaded hearing most.

"Sold it. He heard it in the booth and offered you a few million for the rights. I said yes." Kelsey huffed past a cigar.

"You sold my song to-" You began to see red when the ride stopped and your manager interrupted you, pushing you to get out and onto the stage. Your band couldn't help. They were being corralled all the same. Was this life even yours anymore? It seemed every move you made was orchestrated and modified by the manager you'd mistakenly given too much power too.

By then, the refuge you found on stage began to feel like the same old trap. Kelsey started deciding your set lists. And the first night of three at Maddison square garden, your first stop of the USA leg of the tour; you changed up what had been written down on a whim. Because the crowd was chanting for a number from your very first album. And who were you to deny them that?

Apparently, according to your manager, the devil incarnate.

Kelsey lost his shit on you in the limo on the way to CBGBS, all for changing the fucking setlist. Your fucking setlist. Zed, bless him, tried to speak up in defense of the situation. But his arguments were shut down soon as Kelsey could form a word.

Thank God the club was in sight.

///

CBGB's 1986 -

Lou Reed gave your drummer a little blue pill. Zed said he felt free for the first time maybe ever. You found this out after the guy stole another little blue pill for you. It went down well with whiskey. Then Kelsey started to kill your buzz, being all charming and nice in front of strangers. And that was the most upsetting part of all. Because he was such a dick. And you hated to see anyone believing otherwise.

And because he couldn't help but pick apart your every move, he tried to stop you from ordering a sixth vodka.

"You've made my life hell. This is the only way to cope." You pointed.

"I've made you rich and famous, dear, you may be drunk but you're not that stupid." Kelsey droned in that stupid fucking accent.

"You sold my song to fucking Prince! You didn't even tell me. God knows you'd never ask first but you didn't even mention it! Where is the money for that transaction, huh? Already snuffed up your nose?"

"Maybe." Kelsey boasted, snatching your vodka from your grasp.

"You change my set lists. You deny me meals. You force me to fall in love with a man to make the press happy, to keep your name fucking shinny!" You were seething as you yanked back the glass and chucked it to the ground, glass shattering at your feet. Kelsey only chuckled, a dark low rumble that opened the pit in your stomach where fear and rage lived.

"I only told you to stay married to him darlin', you didn't have to suck him off and pout as he left, that's your own idiocy." Your manager loomed over you, his smoke scented breath blowing in your face. You were jabbing a finger into his chest and calling him a bloodsucking cunt as his smile twisted into a snarl.

By that point Ambrose and Izzy were pulling you and Kelsey back from each other. You yelled for your bassist to let you go, to let you keep calling out your manager for all the shit he kept pulling.

"You know that's a really bad idea. Go find Zed. He's been looking for you." Izzy's hold on you was barely a grasp but you still yanked your arms away, pissed. You grumbled away from the tension filled situation and pushed passed the crowd cheering on Blondie to find your drummer leaned against the back wall, all buddy buddy with Lou Reed, by then.

"Perfect timing, Mrs. Munson. I was just going to invite you and your drummer here to the Chealsea." Your ears rang as Lou Reed waved you and Zed along. On your walk behind the bleach blonde songwriter, your drummer revealed he'd been gifted a whole giant bottle of those little blue pills for the pair of you to survive off of the rest of the tour. Anything to dull the ache.

///

Chealsea Hotel 1986 -

The clock on the dimly lit hallway wall read four in the morning. There was a faint yet ever-present ringing in your ear. There were people packed into every room on this floor, bodies were scattered through the halls, waiting their turn for entry to a room. Or impatiently having a go at each other between potted plants and elevator doors. Someone grabbed you, they were crying and saying they loved you. They were begging you to sing a song as you shrugged them off and told them maybe next time.

"Too many people." You suddenly realized, gripping onto your drummer's forearm. He stalled and turned back to understand what you were saying. Lou Reed was long gone, had been since you'd arrived here however long ago.

You announced that you were headed down to the lobby and began stepping through the maze of strangers, breathing in their smoke and wondering how time was moving so fast. Had thirty minutes really already passed on your journey through this weird gathering?

Down at the front desk, workers smiles were wide as you glided up to the counter. If anyone was ahead of you, you'd cut them. Maybe they had let you. They usually did.

"Do you have any available rooms?" You smiled hopefully. For you, surely they would. For you, they had too. You couldn't be sure you could get back to the place Kelsey had you staying at. And you were in desperate need of some space that didn't feel completely suffocated by responsibility. The women at the front desk told you there were opening but none of the more accommodating rooms for guests as elite as yourself were available. You assured her you didn't care if it was a closet with pillows for a bed so long as you had a place to crash. With in minutes you were being handed a room key.

On your way to the tenth floor, Zed appeared again, this time with company. Ambrose and Kelsey were having a spat, and your drummer was being cornered with his hands up. You saw your guitarist notice you and that was enough to send you sprinting past them to get to the room you booked. Your manager started to call after you, demanding you stop. But you were too quick. You locked yourself into a perfectly adequate room, with a bed, a balcony and a small additional bathroom. This was more than enough. But it wasn't long before your crew was pounding at the door.

"You can't stay here. I've got two entire floors of the Marriot booked just for you, your royal fucking highness." Kelsey spat on the other side of the wooden door.

"Stop fucking talking to me like that!" You hollered back, unzipping your boots and tossing them against the door. God you could really go for another one of those little blue pills.

"Come on, please let's just go." You heard Ambrose whine like an impatient kid brother.

"Fuck you too!" You called back, angry that everyone surrounding you went along with Kelsey's bullshit. You knew they had to, to survive. But you were ready to start fighting against it. You heard the men bickering beyond your seclusion, Kelsey yelling at Zed to have a go at demanding you leave the room. He argued back that he wasn't going to beat on the door like a maniac, but he would try and talk to you like a human being, if they so insisted. His knock was polite. He had more of those little blue pills. You let him in.

Your drummer eased into the room as you slammed the door in the other's faces. That didn't stop your manager from shouting still, demanding you and Zed leave right that moment. Demanding Zed better not be a fucking idiot and just drag you out of there. Your drummer only shook his head and rose a hand to nudge you away from the door you stood seething in front of. He guided you to the far corner of the bed closest to the balcony. He opened the doors, letting in fresh autumn air.

"Don't listen to them." He said in a hush, hunkering down at your side, hands clasped between his knees.

"Well, aren't you gonna try and talk me out of here?"

"No. I think if we stay quiet, they'll leave. And maybe we can have one night of fucking peace." Zed laughed hopelessly as one of them conditioned to pound on the locked door. You sat, biting back tears.

"You're the only one who has checked up on me this whole time. I know the others don't want to cross Kelsey. But none of the rest of the band has even like, said good morning to me. Or sat next to me at lunch. Izzy will share lyrics on plane rides. Ambrose will thank me for rolling up his joints. But then they fuck off to the green room or the dinning hall with all the groupies. I've never expected us all to be best fucking buddies. But I've never felt so alone Zed."

You vented, choking back the ever-growing lump in your throat. Your drummer unclasped his hand and placed his palm on your knee as he shook his low hung head.

"And," You went on, unable to stop now that your expression had started. "Eddie can't call. He's in rehab. Even if he wasn't it's not like we're really married."

"What?" Zed turned, confused.

"Eddie's getting sober somewhere in the middle of nowhere California. And our marriage is a lie. Kelsey made us sign a contract. We're not married. It's all for show. My whole fucking career is all for show at this point. I'm Kelsey's little puppet and every time I try to cut the strings, I just end up tangled up in them."

"He's such a fucking devil." Zed frowned. "Once this tour is over..." You watched your drummer search for his next words. "I don't even know. But none of us should let him keep this shit up."

The banging at the door started again. Zed held a finger to his lips, stopping you from speaking. After a moment in the faintest whisper, you could muster you asked your drummer for another one of those pills from Lou Reed.

He pulled the bottle from his brown leather coat, and portioned you out two. You started to reach for both when he quirked a brow.

"Sorry." You grinned, guilty. Zed took the other pill and his jacket off, tossing the garment and the bottle to the corner.

"So, is that why Eddie has been so sloppy with being seen with so many girls, last month? You two really aren't a thing at all?"

"I guess." You sighed. "I thought we were something. I think he's, bare minimum, a friend. But everything else is just for show." You realized, recalling the tabloids recent write up about Eddies much too public fling with a girl from the crowd of his latest concert. You couldn't pretend that didn't hurt.

"I feel like no one is on my side." You struggled to hide the tears that pooled in your eyes, desperate for what you took to kick in already.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" He seemed concerned about however you may answer. And you realized that he was here. And that he did care. And that despite being caught up in the same bullshit as you, he was giving you all the space and time to talk about it.

You leaned in, sniffling back your crocodile tears as that faint ringing in your ears began to grow a little miraculously louder. You hugged your drummer and thanked him for listening and sitting in here and for not talking you out of going anywhere else. He let a calloused hand pet back your hair and reminded you that he was hiding away all the same. Trauma bonding.

"Can I say something?" Zed asked as you pulled away. You nodded.

"I kind of want to kiss you. But not like out of love. I think it's the pills. And the pent-up stress. And the fact that you get it. And I trust you." He shrugged and you took in every word. "Do you want me to leave now? I know that's probably the last thing you-"

"No, it's okay." You insisted, reaching out to rest a hand on the guy's thigh. He let his brow push together. His silvery eyes studied yours. He wasn't your type at all. Shaggy blonde, too toned drummer. But he was a good friend. And that was more than you could ask for at this point. "Wanna blow off some steam?"

"Seeing as how you're not actually married, I'm okay with it." Zed laughed a little, letting you be the one to make the first move. You kissed him and blocked out every thought that popped up of Eddie, and every wish that you were desperate to be kissing him instead.

Zed was warm and patient and really good with his hands. He asked over and over if what you were doing was okay. He fucked you three times by the time the clock read six in the morning. Then he helped you get dressed and turned over to give you space to sleep beside him in the full-sized mattress.

Your early morning freedom was interrupted by lunch time when Kelsey boomed at the door. He gave the pair of you a scolding through his teeth as you passed through the Chealsea, and really reamed into the pair of you on the limo ride to the tour bus. You'd be traveling to New Jersey, down to North Carolina, then down to Georgia and Florida, back up and across most the states from there. It was a daunting schedule to look ahead to after traveling so much of Europe already. And to know you weren't able to enjoy any of it at all, being under such restrictive control.

///

The next four shows were a blur. You were taking a trio of those little blue pills before every sound check. Whatever your manager shouted in your ear went out the other until the next day. You let time pass you by as you left your heart and soul on stage, using each show as some kind of therapy, best you could. And somehow, without discussing it at all, you and Zed had made a habit out of sneaking into each other's rooms each night. You used each other's sex to pacify the horrors of the tour. And that much you discussed. It was mutually agreed that no feelings could be born from the habit, and if they were it would have to stop. Your hook ups were strictly medicinal. Zed was your supplier, after all.

Ambrose caught on, and so had the others, you were certain. But your guitarist had spotted you in Zeds room one late night when he'd come knocking in search of some cocaine.

"Really, you two? How does Mr. Munson feel about that?"

"I'm sure you'd like to know. Get the fuck out of here." Your drummer slammed the door in his face. But his question haunted you for days after he asked. How would Eddie feel? Would he care at all? Would he be glad you found someone to bone after trying to shag him a time or two to no avail? Would he be pissed you were being sloppy? Would he be pissed if you accused him of being sloppy too? Would he be pissed if he knew how much you missed him?

And God how you really missed Eddie. How you hated catching glimpses of your fake ass wedding ring. How you wished you'd never left Hawaii.

///

Chicago 1986 -

The crowd stretched for miles; the open green field packed with fans far as the eye could see. The wind was welcome as its chill cooled you from the heat of the stage lights. The show was going as well as it could. Your band was in sync. You didn't even mind how Kelsey had organized the set list. Something was bound to piss you off soon, since nothing had yet. You considered this as you ran off stage during Ambrose' guitar solo, reaching for a bottle of water and a shot of something stronger.

Then the unthinkable. It was like the first time you met. You looked up and Eddie Munson was standing before you, eyes a little clearer than ever, hair longer too.

"You're looking good out there!" He smiled and shouted past the music.

"Eddie?" You grinned, baffled by his very sudden and unexpected appearance. Before he could explain himself, Kelsey nudged his way between the pair of you.

"Good! You're here! How's about a song or two?" Your manager smiled to Eddie, whose face grew concerned.

"Oh, no. I'm just here to see my w-"

"When Ambrose runs back, he'll trade off with you. Just two songs. No better way to promote the new album!"

"This is their show, not mine. I really don't want-"

"Ambrose!" Kelsey waved as your guitarist skipped side stage after his solo. Izzy was sauntering on to take his turn in the spotlight now. "Eddie is gonna take your spot for the rest of the show."

"You said only two songs!" You rang with worry. Why was this evil Brit so dead set on causing such chaos? Kelsey looked to you with a glare, ripped the bottle of water from your hand and pushed you toward the stage before going on to force Ambrose custom flying V onto Eddie.

The ringing in your ear that those little blue pills brought on was beginning to fade away. The audiences' roars dulled your senses now. You waved at them as you hurried to tell Izzy there was a change of plans and you'd only be playing songs from the new album now. The first five tracks, then the hit single, you decided in a hurry, telling him to pass the info onto Zed.

"Okay Chicago!" You breathed into your mic. "You're about to be just as surprised as I am!"

Eddie's entrance toward center stage caused the crowd to react so loudly it felt as though an earthquake could have been coaxed from the ruckus. You caught a glimpse of Ambrose at the side of the stage, throwing a fit, before turning to cue Zed to start the next song. He'd been giving the right info, playing the beat to the song you decided. You clued Eddie in, too, before taking centre stage once more and doing the best you could to carry on this concert without having a mental break down.

It was good to see Eddie. But the pair of you had a lot left unsaid. It was a sick joke, being forced to sing the songs you wrote with him, into the same microphone now. To be looking right in his big brown eyes, to feel his exhales, to be stupidly intoxicated by his presence after months, after no contact, after feeling so abandoned and hurt, even if that wasn't entirely his fault.

The four of you played a decent show, and the sold-out festival crowd was in a frenzy by the encore. You sang with Eddie and looked right at him. He kissed your cheek as Zed dragged out the beats that ended the set. But your phantom husband had never felt further away.

There was no time to talk still as your band was corralled into separate interviews and congratulations from festival promoters. Eddie was the most sought-after entity, of course. Not only was his appearance on your set a surprise but it was the first time he'd been seen out in months since disappearing to rehab. You weren't sure what excuse he gave the press this time. You couldn't quiet hear the answers he was giving journalists now, as you rushed toward the green room showers.

You found Zed leaving there and asked him for more pills, as big a handful as he'd give you. He was hesitant, but you promised it was just so you wouldn't have to track him down for more later. The blonde was worn down, dumping a few into your palm as you hurried to get cleaned up.

You knew your time was limited in the green room's shower, and you knew the night ahead was a long one. There were three more official interviews with festival promoters to complete, and a VIP tent to make an appearance in, all while Iron Maiden played the final set of the evening. You realized, as you washed the sweat from your back, that you didn't know if Eddie would still be there when you came out of the room. Or if he'd be lingering close by the rest of the evening. Or if you two were going to have time for a real discussion. So, under stress from every angle, you broke your promise to Zed and downed the handful of pills at once.

And then you were off, dressed in a new silk slip and pre torn tights, sprinting down the hall to make it to the press tent in time. Outside, Kelsey was off in the distance, shmoozing some promoters. Izzy was flirting with Lita Ford by the craft table. And you were scurrying between tour busses as dusk started to set in. Iron Maiden hadn't yet started their set. And on the steps near your tour bus, you found the rest of your band, and Eddie, sharing beers. Oh how fucking lovely.

"You've got to be fucking joking." You stood before Eddie, seething, rage coursing through your nervous system. He knew exactly what you were on about, shifting his weight as his lithe expression turned pale. Eddie shifted his weight and kept the bottle in his grasp close to his chest. You almost couldn't believe he was choosing to be so dumb right now. Led by anger, you reached out to grab the beer from Eddie's grasp. He let you rip it from his fingers and avoided the way your eyes bore into his very being.

The boys at his side were quiet until Ambrose let out a low whistle, mentioning that he would run and get Eddie a third drink. A third. Meaning he'd had another before now. Meaning that he was acting way dumber than you ever fathomed he was capable of.

Suddenly it was all too much. As each boy noticed watch you turn red from outrage, it was like every emotion you'd suppressed in the past handful of months broke past the seal and your world began to spin. Yeah... maybe you should have heeded Zed's worry.

"Shit." You groaned, feeling your chest tighten. You dropped the bottle, rushed past the group and grabbed at the door of your traveling home. Thank God, no one was inside. Your sprint to the loo was just in time as you began to vomit. You cried, and cursed, and got sick again and wondered why nothing felt good anymore. Even the shit that used to keep the bad feelings at bay was back firing now.

You heard the group of guys just outside the door you left swung open, wondering what just happened to you. Ambrose far off muffled voice was unmistakable, "Come on, Eddie. I'll get you more beer. Let Zed deal with her sorry ass. He's been pretty good at filling your shoes, ya know?"

Nausea rushed over you, shutting off the rest of your senses. You stayed slumped on the little loo floor, the room was small enough that your feet stuck out into the hall. Then you heard the door shut. And the sound of heavy boots clucking toward you.

"Are you wasted?" Eddie wondered. You looked up to him, standing with his fists balled up, his fingers working nervously at each palm. His dark brows were furrowed, and his speech was ever so slightly slurred.

"Are you wasted?" You shot back, still so beyond pissed off at him.

"I told you I was a recovering fuck up. Not a fully rehabilitated one." The guy reminded with a small humorless laugh.

"Why are you here?" You whimpered, resting your head against the lid of the toilet, the latter half of your sentence, a mumble.

"I'm here to see you, why the fuck else would I be? I didn't want to play the last thirty minutes of your damn set. I wanted to see you! It's been months you know?" Eddie shot back. It had been a long set of days since you'd had the pleasure of hearing the guys voice. Why did his return have to leave you feeling so fucking awful? Why didn't you stop all this shit from playing out when you had the chance? Crumble up that dumb ass contract in front of Kelsey and everyone. If only you could've saved yourself this world of hurt.

"And whose fault is that?" You asked through a whine, feeling sick all over again.

"Don't you dare put all the blame on me. I know I fucked up. I'll own that. But you're the one who pushed me away from the beginning. You told me you didn't want a real connection with me. I was willing to actually fall in love with you. And newsflash. I am actually in love with you!" Eddie's voice was growing firmer with each word he spoke. "I'm in deep fucking disgusting love with you. And you told me you didn't want that. So, I kept my fucking distance."

"I find that hard to believe." You rang through your teeth, sitting up a little. "You told me you couldn't sleep with me again because you'd fall too much in love or whatever the fuck. That hasn't stopped you from sleeping with what, three, four groupies since I left for tour? In deep disgusting love with every single one of them, are ya?"

"Of course not." Eddie waved as if it were obvious. "Those were drunken flings. Based on lust. I was already head over heels with you when you shagged me in the hot tub. I knew I'd only fall more. And since you said you weren't looking for love I set a fucking boundary. To please you!"

"Well I do love you! I don't fucking want to, but I do! I don't want any of this shit. I don't want our bullshit marriage. I don't want to be on this fucked up tour. I want to quit this shitty fucking job, oh God-"

You caught a glimpse of Eddie's face before you started to lose your lunch all over again. His eyes were wide, his jaw was slacked, his head shook in disbelief. And then what felt like a life time passed as your body writhed in agony.

"What did you take?" Eddie demanded to know.

"I don't know." You lied.

"Bullshit! What did you fucking take?" Eddie raised his voice as you started to sob.

"Zed's pills. Please don't yell at me!" You responded past tears and waves of nausea.

"I'm sorry." Eddie heaved, and you could tell he meant it and that made you cry harder. You heard his boots stomp away as you lost your fucking mind between tears and sick. You heard the door swing open. You heard Eddie say, "Get a medic in here, you son of a bitch." And you just knew he was talking to Zed, and you imagined the poor drummer lingering worriedly near enough the bus door to be there when Eddie opened it. The dreamy eyed guitarist was back in the room and kneeling at your side to comfort you while you both waited for someone to come and help.

You started to apologize for what exactly you weren't sure yet. Eddie dismissed you and said you could talk more later tonight. And you realized that meant he was staying. And that made you feel the smallest bit better.

When the medic came, he assumed you'd already vomited up most of the pills, but insisted you to come to the emergency tent for a while. You worried instantly, knowing Kelsey would blow a gasket. The rest of the band could carry on perfectly suitable interviews without you, but you knew there'd be hell to pay. Eddie sat with you, listened to the medics with you, gave you his jacket as the night grew cold. Then he walked you toward the car that the doctors called for you, insisting you get to a bed and rest as long as you could. He slid in the other side of the cab and let you slump against his shoulder the whole ride to whatever hotel you were staying in that night.

///

As Eddie walked you toward the sanctuary that was this evening's quiet hotel suite, the elevator doors chimed down the hall.

"You fucked up tonight beyond your wildest imagination!" Your managers shouts were more irate than you'd ever heard them. But you were almost too exhausted to care. Only three steps away from your room. Stubborn still, you couldn't help but turn to fight back.

Kelsey was red faced and rambling so viciously that the assistant that had followed him up was taking a step back with apparent concern. Around this time, the elevator dinged again, revealing Izzy and a group of strangers hanging off his arm.

"This is coming out of your paycheck! Do you realize that? You can't just do whatever pleases you!" Your manager raved.

"Your threats are getting boring." You stated simply, lazy eyed, hoping your lackluster engagement to this man's tirade would sting his ego.

"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise. Have you forgotten I control every aspect of your sorry little life?"

"Don't fucking talk to her like that man." Eddie snapped, unable to cope with this nonsense any longer.

"This conversation doesn't fucking concern you," Kelsey, red faced and practically foaming at the mouth, shoved a hand to your fake husband's chest. Eddies back hit the door of the room you'd been trying to enter with a thud. He stayed a bit stunned, letting a shocked grin grow under his furrowed brow. But your composure was lost by then. You couldn't help but to begin to lose your mind.

"You absolute twat!" You shouted; lunging toward your manager who was significantly taller and was holding a stance like a boxer who was prepared to demolish his opponent. All hell broke loose. You were barely able to land a swing to Kelsey's iron build when his assistant moved to block you from becoming more physical. Izzy had rushed to involve himself by then too, much to the shock of the friends he'd brought along- who stood at the end of the hall in awe.

"You're all bark and no bite, just like your pathetic excuse of a husband." Kelsey tried to squirm away from the way your coworkers were backing him up. Eddie was simultaneously placing the hotel room key you'd given him back in your hand and motioning you to unlock the door, distracting you from escalating the situation further.

"I know better than to swing back. We're done here." Eddie let out a huff of a humorless laugh and shrugged his shoulders back in place. You got the door open just in time and let Eddie nudge you into the room first. Kelsey's grumbled curses were drowned out when your pretend husband shut and locked the pair of you in; and a deafening silence surprised you when you were only minutes ago seeking out the refuge of quiet you knew would be here.

You stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch your breath from getting so worked up. But the adrenaline that coursed through your system raged on and the overwhelm that had dawned over you in the tour bus was still shading your every thought.

"I want to go home." You whimpered. But that's not what you really meant. You'd never felt at home in the house you'd lived in the past four years. The only place you'd ever really felt at ease was Hawaii. Was that one house. Was with Eddie. But you couldn't say all that now.

You realized you were crying again when the man on your mind was suddenly standing before you and pulling you too his chest for an embrace.

"I'm so sorry. You wrote in your letters that this tour was awful but now I see they're worse than that. We've gotta get you away from this crazy dude." Eddie soothed, letting his hand brush over the back of your hair while holding you closer with the other all the while. You sank into his embrace for a moment longer before pulling away to sniffle and speak more clearly.

"He- he has me wrapped up in so many contracts. Half of which I don't even know the full extent of because he's so tricky. I don't even know where to begin." You let out a shaky breath as Eddie listened. "He's slowly killing me. He sold my music to Prince. Did you know that? He writes my set lists. He times my meals. I'm supposed to be living the dream, but it feels much more like a nightmare." You groaned, hanging your head in your hands.

"He what?" Eddie asked, alarmed. You knew Kelsey was pulling fucked up shit, but in the midst of it all, it seemed all too impossible to retaliate against. The man you'd been missing was standing before you now, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers against your wrist. Eddie's hand stroked toward your shoulder as you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath in.

"He also threatened me into pretending to marry this really cool guy. Who I'm really in love with now. But I'm so scared this guy'll never want to really be with me. And when our contract is up, he'll be free to fall for someone without being obliged."

Eddie watched as you spoke, biting into a frown that drooped lower still.

"You're gonna make me cry." Eddie breathed a laugh through his nose as a sheen covered his big brown eyes, and his hands found either side of your face.

"Cryin' because you know I'm right? Or cryin' because you know I'm wrong?" You dared to ask, fearful all the while your heart really couldn't take it if he turned you down now.

"Are you crazy? What part of 'I've loved you since the Hawaiian hot tub' don't you understand?"

Bitting back a smile, you took a beat to look into Eddie's dark dreamy eyes. Your brain was almost to fogged by the chaos of the day to fully comprehend the conversation you were having right now. But your heart seemed to understand, as it settled and warmed within you.

"You sobered up fast, huh?" You joked, but not really, as your eyes focused back and forth between his.

"I don't know why it's so hard. Maybe I need longer than three months in rehab. God it's so embarrassing."

But you got it. This lifestyle wasn't for the tender soul. But a tender soul always made the best art. And self-medication was the quickest method to suppressing the madness.

"Hey," You shook your head, catching Eddies eye. "No more talking about all this shit tonight. We'll figure it out soon enough, won't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." Eddie nodded, sucking in a breath and drawing out its release. "Come on then... let me take care of you for once."

Eddie dragged you into the bathroom, filled up the tub and dimmed the lights. He joined you in the water and washed your hair and kissed your shoulders. He held you close enough to feel his heart beating. He dried you off and helped you slip into your pj's and joined you in bed for what you realized was the very first time. It was early by rockstar standards. Only ten. Still early enough to catch a special on the telly, the perfect white noise that sent you drifting off in Eddie's arms. And just before sleep, you felt the peace of belonging you'd wished for when you dreamed of home.

///

The next morning you were awoken by a cart of food being pulled in by the wild haired guitarist.

"Didn't mean to wake you, sorry love. Food can wait if you're still tired."

"Don't you have a show to play or an interview to film or anything? How are you still here?" You wondered, staying cocooned under the duvet.

"I've got nothing. I was actually going to ask if you minded me staying a few nights on tour with you. We are still contractually wed. But more importantly I really fucking missed you, ya know?"

"Do you really want to stay? It's no fun."

Just as Eddie started to answer, the door to your room that had been unlocked from Eddie's breakfast delivery, swung open. Kelsey barged in, rolled up papers in hand. You assumed they were the doctor's notes left from last night. They'd ordered you to a day of rest.

"You're one lucky fucker, you know that? You might get to be babied today but you're making up the interviews I had to cancel before we leave at six tomorrow morning."

"What are you gonna do Kelsey, drag me out of fucking bed?" You sat up and spat right at the guy. "I'm not some fucking pet you can leash up and show off. I'm a person! With a soul! I guess I can see why that's hard for you to comprehend, being the leach you are."

"You need to leave. Don't come back today. I will call security if you do." Eddie walked towards Kelsey, beginning to back him out of the room. The manager laughed lowly.

"Well aren't you two cute? Treacherous nobodies." Kelsey tossed the rolled-up papers at you before turned to leave.

"What a fucking prick." Eddie growled, picking up the papers that had floated each and every direction. He tossed them on the desk and moved to sit on the bed at your side.

"So what'll it be? Pancakes? Or back to resting?" The guy reached out a hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. Just as you grinned and opened your mouth to answer there was another persistent knock at the door.

"It never ends!" Eddie chimed.

"I told you it's no fun here." You shrugged pointedly. "Will you answer again?" You were gonna choose going back to sleep, if the fates would allow. Your body ached from its efforts of violent sick the night before. Your mind ached from exploding under the pressure of it all, last night.

"Oh, hi." Eddie opened the door to Zed. His hair was mused. He was clad in only a robe and boxers. And he held a paper in his hand.

"Was Kelsey just here?" The drummer looked anxiously from Eddie to you, back to Eddie.

"Yeah, why?" Eddie assured, seemingly worried.

"Did he leave you papers? Because it's our bank statements. And they're way fucking wrong, at least on my end." Zed held up his bluish tinted sheet that looked just like the one sitting on the table of your room. You didn't feel very tired anymore. You rushed to stand, grabbing the document and scanning the words and numbers on the page.

"There are hundreds missing. Maybe more. And it's all charged under 'miscellaneous funds.' What the fuck is this?" You waved the page before both boys, alarm bells whirring in your head. When Kelsey threatened to pull from your paycheck he wasn't kidding.

"We've had almost mirrored spending habits as the month before yet more is being taken out this time?" Zed shuffled documents until he reveled last month's invoice, pointing out the differences.

"My lawyers are Kelsey's lawyers. What should I do?"

"I'm gonna go to the lobby and call Brooke. I've just had an idea that should hopefully help you all." Eddie noted in a hurry. He nodded to you and brushed past Zed on a sudden mission.

"Fuck dude. It's like, never ending." You wanted to cry but were probably too dehydrated to produce tears at this point.

"I'm going to make sure the others know but..." Zed spoke, shifting his weight in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"I will be, I think. I don't know. Probably no more little blue pills, yeah?"

"Oh, I already flushed em." Zed assured. "And I assume I won't be getting any more late-night visits either?" The drummer scratched the back of his head and looked to you like a sad little puppy. He wasn't in love with you. And you had nary a feeling for him. But the pair of you had found comfort in your routine hookups.

"I don't know. It's not like Eddie and I have anything officially going on. But I can promise you, you'll be the first to know when I've got my shit figured out, yeah?"

Zed nodded and told you to get back to bed, and thanked you for having a meltdown grand enough to allow everyone else a day off too. You shot him a middle finger and chuckled your way back under the hotel sheets.

///

Kansas 1986 -

Eddie hadn't left your side since Chicago. The last night you spent there he'd called Brooke and asked her to sneak into Kelsey's office in L.A. to go through his files. The brave soul did just that, and found a fax Kelsey had sent to himself of a new contract where he forged the bands signatures and decided to charge you each more monthly. Brooke called you in Detroit and set you up with some well renowned lawyers. You had big plans to fuck Kelsey's shit up after the tour. There were only seven shows left. And you weren't in the business of disappointing your fans.

Kansas was pretty beautiful, the sun shone, your plans were coming together, Eddie spent a lot of time sober and reading a paper back with his head in your lap. Your tour bus pulled into the finest hotel available. You were an entire day ahead of schedule. And there was nothing to do with it.

"Let's go to dinner some place nice, no late-night pub. Wanna?" Eddie coaxed, crash landing to sit on the edge of this weekends bed. You watched him in his own amusement, grinning as the mattress continued to spring.

"Sure, that sounds like a nice change of pace." It wasn't to say that you'd been starved of fine dining experiences on this tour. But the past few days had been nonstop with no time to relish or relax outside of the tour bus.

Before you knew it you were dressed to the nines, hanging off of Eddies arm as he escorted you out of the back of the resort where your limo waited. Unsure where exactly you headed, Eddie had taken care of asking the front desk for the nicest eatery nearby.

A castle like building with French style cuisine it was. Skipping ahead of reservations and smiling politely to wait staff, you wound up settled comfortably in a leather booth, sipping a lemonade and staring at Eddie. He leaned both elbows on his side of the table and stared right back at you.

"Thanks. For dinner. And for staying on the road with me. And for... well everything I guess."

"It's been truly the least I could do. You shouldn't be saying thanks at all. I should be saying sorry for how much of an embarrassment I've been to you, like, since the dawn of our meeting." Eddie spoke up, twirling the straw in his soda.

"Don't start that-" You tried to stop his groveling, shaking your head.

"I am sorry. We agreed to this marriage to help each other's image, more or less. And I've been parading around like a fool."

"Maybe. But you also got us a trip to Hawaii that changed my life a little. And you're here with me now. You've been better to me than you give yourself credit for." You grinned, searching Eddies deep wide eyes. He squinted as if to consider the weight of your words. He let the chatter of the atmosphere grow louder as silence settled in the space between you. One sip of your drink. Two. Three.

"So, what... how..." Eddie started, struggling to choose his words until he just came right out with it. "Do you really love me?"

"I really do." You nodded, letting your head bob more assuredly as you thought on your statement. "I'm not sure when it happened but I can promise you, you'll break my heart when you leave."

"Well, I don't want to leave." Eddie shook his head, seemingly worried, like he was about to be swept off into a void. "I don't want to leave you. I know I have to go back to L.A. soon but, that's not what we're talking about here."

"It's not."

Just then, your kind waitress breezed by, offering refills and desserts. You declined both and decided to call it a night, hoping to get some proper beauty sleep in since you had a night free enough to do so. The pair of you breezed out of the restaurant, flashing smiles to the fans who'd gathered outside of the business after learning you were dining inside. You shouldered your way into the limo without too much fuss, and then turned to find Eddie settling at your side.

And when he looked back at you, it was like the whole world made sense. It baffled you. Here in the middle of America, without a single prompt, it felt like your world just shifted on its axis all because of the smile that reached Eddie's eyes when they locked on yours. Maybe it was the effects of a proper meal settling in after probably too long without one. Or maybe the tour had finally driven you mad beyond comprehension.

But by the time you got back to the hotel, you weren't so naive. You realized that the wall you'd built up that guarded your heart from this man had finally crumbled, the last brick blown over after your conversation at dinner.

"Eddie-"

Like a mind reader or a braver soul, the man in question spun around from locking the hotel door to grab your face and kiss you. And you got it then. You got why he couldn't have done this with you, if he'd been half as in love with you as you were with him right in this moment. You understood why it would have wrecked him. But you got to kiss him now, letting your soul settle as he kissed you back.

It was as if you'd never done this before. With Eddie or anyone. A carnal desperation washed over you, now that the waiting was over. Your hands traced the inside of Eddie's leather jacket, falling until they reached his belt. As your fingers started to undo the thing, Eddie pushed them away. Oh no, he was about to stop you again, wasn't he?

"We have all night." Eddie explained, saving your heart from sinking to your stomach. "Slow?"

"Yeah, I like that idea." You smiled, letting Eddie gaze at you through hooded eyes, pressing his smile to your cheek for a kiss. He let his lips wander from your jaw to your neck as his hands trailed from your sides to your back.

This was all you'd ever wanted from him. This was more than you'd ever let yourself have with him. His body firm against yours. His heart on the table. God, you'd nearly forgotten you were in the midst of a tour that made you nearly consider quitting this business entirely. You'd nearly forgotten you'd ever been hurt at all.

You simply soaked up the way Eddie peeled off your layers one at a time, taking forever to do so. He laid you down and let you rip away his shirt. He smoothed his hands over your skin and let you tangle your fingers in his hair.

Dusk cast through the curtains, coloring the room a dull purple. Eddie marveled at the beauty of the evening and moved his kisses down your stomach. Eventually his lips met the middle of you and his kisses were unrelenting. As tortuously slow as he'd taken his time to wind up between your legs, he made up for by working you up into a frenzy in the matter of seconds. And then he claimed he had only just begun; Eddie announced his plan to make you come undone as many times as he could muster before you were each too tired to go on.

He kept his word, sending stars into your vision over and over as the night turned black. You returned every favor, dragging out your efforts to drive Eddie wild until he absolutely couldn't stand it any longer. When it came time for the guy to press himself all the way into you, overwhelming peace filled your heart so full it frightened you. You were almost moved to tears by how in utter fucking love with Eddie Munson you were. Unsure how else to express those profound emotions in a time like now; you let your jaw slack and your breath catch as the weight of these intense feelings and realizations wracked your body and soul.

Eddie's eyes were focusing on yours then, and with a smile he sighed, "I know." And somehow, you believed that he somehow truly did have an understanding of the exact feeling you struggled to articulate. Still, you barely got to relish the way his hips rocked into yours before he was losing composure. But still, it was beautiful to watch Eddie reach his peak, straining against you. Because of you.

Eddie was crashing at your side, spent and sleepy and so fucking beautiful.

///

The next morning came too soon. You knew last night was a one off, for now. You knew there were days that waited just ahead that demanded attention you worried you didn't have patience for. You knew you needed to hold onto last night for all it was worth, when morning came.

Eddie woke up, slinging an arm surer around your middle, groaning about not wanting to ever get up. You chuckled and shifted your weight to sit up ever so slightly. You had time left to laze, but not much. So you knew your question needed to be asked right away.

"Eddie." You whispered, grabbing the hand he left splayed across your stomach, bringing his knuckles to your lips. The guy lifted his mussed head of hair and let his dark eyes flutter to meet yours. He propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his own lips to your shoulder.

"Eddie... What are we doing? What happens now?"

"I want something real with you." Eddie lifted his face to find yours. He was smiling at first but it faltered before he spoke up again. "But I think we need to figure out our shit first. Let our dumbass contract end. Get you through this tour and away from Kelsey. Get myself off the fuckin' bottle. Then maybe we can live life together instead of just trying to survive it."

"I see." You mulled over his statement, still holding his knuckles in your grasp.

"All that to say I want to see you all the time. I want this with you all the time. But I don't want to make you promises I'm afraid I'll break. I meant what I said about staying in rehab longer than three months, this time."

"Is that why you're going back to L.A.?"

"I already asked Brooke to find me a residency." The announcement was a happy one. But it meant his leaving was soon and it meant his absence would be significant. It meant mornings in sheets and sunlight were further away than you'd recently hopped.

"Can I come visit you?"

"I don't think I could fully heal if you didn't."

///

Topeka wasn't the most glamourous city. But deep in the heart of the Midwest, the wildest shit seemed to be going down. Your green room was full of groupies, clowns, bikers, freaks of all kinds. There was probably nothing left to do in the middle of tornado alley than to go a little crazy.

Maybe that's why you weren't surprised when you found Eddie backstage. Maybe that's why you weren't disappointed. Maybe that's why you didn't stop Eddie when he let some pink haired punk rocker pour a shot down his throat.

But then he saw you and he smiled. He fucking smiled. And you couldn't help but let outrage burst from your being at that point. Marching through the crowd, you plunged a hand out to grab Eddie's sleeve, yanking him away from the madness. All around you people were laughing and yammering and singing, lost in their own plots. Eddie wasn't laughing anymore. He wasn't smiling. He was protesting as you dragged him behind you, around the corner toward a row of backstage showers. Secluded in the tiled room, you let go and turned to face him, Eddie didn't even look like himself. His eyes were glassed over, his demeanor barely held together.

"What the fuck?" You yelled. "Just because you have a room booked at rehab doesn't mean you get a free bender. Stop trying to kill yourself!"

"I- thinking..." Eddie rose a finger, pointing your way before he huffed a small curse, losing his balance, staggering toward the wall.

"You're a fucking mess. I don't even know what to do." You wanted to cry, you wanted to yell at him until he sobered the fuck up and promised to stop this bullshit forever. For good. He stayed leaning against the wall, furrowing his brow, closing his eyes as a you shouted his way.

"You're not the only one this shit is hard for!" Eddie slurred back, opening his eyes and gesturing your way.

"What are you talking about Eddie?"

"This is too hard. I'm too-" He huffed a frustrated sigh, too drunk to possibly convey a proper expression. Still, to the best of his shitfaced ability, he tried. "I'm too fucked up for this job. I'm too fucked up for you. I think I'm always gonna be. So... so jut go back to Zed. Or something. I'm gonna fuck this up. I don't want to but-" His words slurred so close together it may have been impossible to understand him if you didn't know him so well. There were tears welling in his eye's as he rambled, and every word went straight to the pit in your stomach.

"Eddie, baby, listen-"

"No, you gotta go on stage!" He waved a hand for you to hurry away. It was true, but your concerns for him were increasing by the second. Stagehands poked their head in the locker area, calling your name, insisting you hurry. You called back to them to find Kelsey, God how you wished anyone else would be in charge enough to help. When your sleezy ass manager finally rushed in, you told him you refused to go on stage until you saw Eddie put into a cab and escorted back to your hotel. Because there were people watching, Kelsey did as you said.

You played that show with your heart in your throat. You sang with your brain turned off. You tried to remember how great last night was. But tonight scared you too bad.

///

You didn't get on the tour bus. You didn't let Kelsey threaten you to stay for the after party. You rushed to hail a cab and paid the driver far more than anyone ever should have to book it to the hotel.

The driver was brilliant. But the ride seemed to last forever- every second, a threat, in your mind. You worried almost to the point of getting sick. What if they hadn't dropped him off in the room like you demanded? What if he got out and went to a bar or got lost? What if something far worse happened?

You ran inside the fivestar lodge and sprinted to the elevator. You pressed the button to your floor a dozen time, willing it to move faster, muttering your will outloud. The elevator doors creaked shut as you pressed the button again and again, beyond desprate to get upstairs. The indicator passed the second floor. Then it passed the third. And then your ride screeched in an unfamiliar tone, stalling before the arrow could make it to the fourth floor. No.

"This is a sick fucking joke!" You cried out to no one, kicking the doors of the elevator that stalled between floors. You cried and cried and pressed the button again a dozen times before back up, accepting your fate, letting your shoulders hit the wall as you stood alone in tears. Maybe Eddie was right somehow. This was never going to work. Maybe you were destined to break each others hearts. You almost let the grim thought take over your mind. You almost let that conclusion be the finale one to make.

But then you remembered the look in Eddie's eyes last night, when he pinned you against the mattress. And the look in his eyes at dinner. And from the side stages and passenger seats and press junkets. Maybe it was destined to fall apart with Eddie. But you weren't gonna go down without a fight damn it.

Pushing yourself from the wall, you cursed and pounded the button until the elevator screeched into motion again, rising passed the handful of floors it took until your destination. You practically pried the doors open when you got to where you needed to be, racing down the hall, fumbling your key from your pocket.

Eddie was there, slumped halfway on the foot of the bed, like he couldn't make it the rest of the way. Empty cans a littered near the bin by the door. Kicking past them, you moved to shake Eddie's shoulders. He grumbled at your jostling him, but nothing you could understand. You cried and tried your best to move him to a more sensible position in the middle of the mattress. You cried and rolled over to kneel by the bedside telephone. It rang twice before she answered.

"Brooke, you need to come get him." You cried.

"I'm on my way." She assured; without an ounce of hesitation or question or anything but allegiance.

You stayed up, checking Eddie's pulse that never faltered, sniffling back tears for this whole fucked up situation. You stayed up writing a letter to Eddie, promising him things with Zed weren't going to work out. Promising nothing would work out with anyone but him. Promising you'd come visit Eddie in rehab and that you actually loved him more than you knew you were capable of. That even though you were scared too, you were willing. Promising you were proud to call yourself his wife even if you were never actually married. Then you signed your name at the bottom, finally giving him that autograph he'd once asked for.

Brooke was there six hours later. Dressed to the nines, slipping in the room unsurprised by the scene, reaching out to hug you without asking. You let the woman hold you for a moment as you focused on taking deep breaths and convincing your nervous system help was here and happening.

"Thank you for giving a fuck about him. And helping him. For coming all this way." You shuddered a breath and looked to the woman with kind eyes and a killer fashion sense.

"I care about Eddie. I care about you too, you know?"

Brook went on to say that if you ever wanted to call her to talk, her line would always be open. And if you ever wanted to call her to replace Kelsey, she'd gladly represent you. She went on to curse the man in charge of your career, insisting you deserved better than the treatment he gave you. You struggled not to keep on crying as you thanked her a billion times more, and moved to deal with Eddie.

As you and his manager sat up the man, he seemed to wake up from his stupor. Still out of it enough to stay silent, but alert enough to help as you and Brooke dragged Eddie out of the room- and to another stupid fucking elevator and out of the back of the hotel. You had packed his things and stuck your letter in his bag. No doubting he'd receive it in a timely manner.

Outside, Brooke left you to bear all of Eddie's weight as she opened the limo door. In that time, Eddie tried his best to support himself more fully, grabbing at your shirt and yanking himself up to look at you. His eyes were brimmed with tears, still dark and beautiful. Still your favorite pair.

"You promised." Eddie winced. "No lugging me around." You had a firm hold around his waist, and under his arm. You remembered the deal you made before signing the contracts. You remember what he referenced.

"Not lugging. Helping. That's what I promised." You sniffled, letting more tears fall as you brushed back Eddies hair. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed as you guided him toward the limo. Brook shut his door and promised to phone you. Then they were off. The car sputtered to start and turned down the alley and you stood there all alone again.

///

The next few nights went by in a blur. Texas was hot, Colorado was pretty, Oregon could have been fun, but it wasn't. You allowed yourself no time to think or feel or wonder. You focused solely on the music and getting off this God forsaken tour.

Kelsey went flying down the halls of a casino in Vegas when Ambrose tried to call him out for stealing money from you lot. It resulted in a physical altercation where the manager had your guitarist by the collar against a wall, but the staff security team broke it up and Ambrose slumped off to the lobby bar instead of responding when you asked if he was okay.

That night you stayed up late on the bus to Phoenix, staring at the screen of the telly mounted near the cabinets.

"You're doing that thing again." Zed appeared, looking down at you with tired eyes. "Where you stare a hole through whatever is in front of you."

"Yeah." You sighed. The drummer seemed to decide something, and moved to sit at your side- handing you the joint he'd been smoking. After a beat, he asked if you'd found any good lawyers. You mentioned that you in fact had. Sometime around Detroit, Brooke had phoned you with more information than you knew what to do with and a list of people rallied to help.

Silence fell between the pair of you once more as a late-night show began to air. You halfheartedly listened to the host relay news updates while passing Zed's joint back and forth. And then a certain topic demanded your full-blown attention.

"Corroded Coffin announced a hiatus tonight, disappointing fans who'd recently been promised an upcoming tour." The late-night host made a joke about the metal groups fans being a bunch of softies. "Yeah, apparently, lead singer Eddie Munson checked himself into rehab for a whole year..." Whatever joke that crackled through the screen next was lost on you, as your eyes brimmed, full of pride and fear. Proud for how Eddie was being public now about his absence from the scene. And fearful for what was next to come.

A lot could happen in a year. A lot needed to happen in a year. But what if it didn't go how, you all hoped? What if your attempt to hold Kelsey accountable backfired? What if you were never able to get free? What if Eddie found a nice girl down the hall from whatever room he booked and forgot all about how badly he said he wanted a real shot with you?

"We'll still be friends, right?" Zed pipped up, taking the joint from your grasp and passing you a stray tissue instead. "Way less codependent? More morally supportive?"

"I'd like that, yeah." You sniffled and smiled to the drummer whose presence had been a surprising safe place for you through this whole mess. You thanked him for being there and for understanding the time and place for your vice driven alliance had come to a close. But after a newly born secret hand shake it was decided that you'd still be glad to call each other a friend.

///

L.A. 1986 -

The holidays fast approached by the end of that tour. Your Christmas was shrouded by legal documents. Kelsey hadn't spoken to you since you'd served him those papers. He didn't even look your way in the court room.

When the new year kicked in, you spent most weekends visiting Eddie in rehab. You'd play a round of cards and tell him how good he looked and listen as he spoke about how much better he felt too. You each dreamed of life after he got out. Movie dates and song writing sessions. You each parted ways with a well-meaning embrace and sometimes a small kiss or two.

While awaiting the verdict to your case against Kelsey, you declined your labels deal for a new album. You phoned Brooke instead and asked her to book you a trip to Hawaii. You started packing that night, unsure when you'd leave or for how long. But your trust in Brooke's ability to work miracles remained steadfast. So when your phone clattered and you answered to the sound of her voice, you weren't surprised by the glee in her tone.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" She asked. Her question faltered your grin and opened the pit in your stomach. Hadn't she just said hello cheerfully as ever?

"Uh-"

"The bad news is that old house you wanted me to rent again is no longer available. I can't book it for you." Brooke interrupted, voice flat and tone descending.

"Oh, I see." You shrugged, not half as hopeless as you'd expected to be by her bad news. You expected much worse. But you were pretty bummed. That home was the only one you had in mind, the only space you imagined finding true peace in for your planned getaway. The only home on your mind since you'd left it. You and Eddie had so much fun there. Sure, there were moments filled with awkward silence and questionable decisions made there too. But that little Hawaiian home had your heart damn it.

"But the good news is, it's for sale. And I asked them to hold off on accepting offers until I called you." Brooke rushed to inform. Oh. Now this was very good news indeed. You asked a couple times if she was joking. You knew she wouldn't do that. But you just couldn't believe you had an opportunity much grander and more promising ahead of you. Potentially more than a suitcase to pack.

Without any hesitation you formed a plan. Two days later Brooke sat next to you on a plane, a bundle of hundreds in hand and every pair of fingers crossed. You rented a chic little motel room for one night, and abandon your things there soon as they hit the shelves. You had a house to go buy.

It all happened so fast. You made an offer any relator would be a fool to refuse, cash in hand. In the matter of an hour and a half meeting, you were signing your name on a dotted line and being handed the keys to a door you'd opened a few times before. It was yours. It was all yours now.

Brooke took you to dinner to celebrate. You bought her desert and asked her what more you could do as thanks. She had done so much for you, more than she ought to have done. The stunning woman shook her head and smiled and reminded you friends didn't owe friends anything. All she cared to ask of you was to make this year better than the last. To see you happier would be enough thanks for Brooke.

The flight back to L.A. was surreal. You spent it planning paint colors and writing a list of movers to call and dates to settle.

And as soon as your plans were solid and your bags were packed, another weekend rolled around. It was time to see Eddie again. You drove to the rehab in the middle of nowhere and felt something like melancholy weighing in your gut. Something bittersweet in the back of your throat. Things were never going to be the same.

The halls were bright white, sunlight making the tile floor shimmer. Residents you'd come to recognize pursed polite smiles your way as you turned corners to find Eddie. You knew where he would be. At the picnic tables in the garden. Maybe with a book in hand. Maybe with a pencil.

Today, he was sitting amongst the sprawling green grounds alone, a magazine on the table before him. It was closed. As you approached you recognized the Rolling Stone font across the glossy page, looking up to find Eddie staring a hole through the cover.

"You gotta turn the pages with your hands babe, won't open otherwise." You remarked, stepping through the grass to see Eddie grinning up at you. He was more despondent today than he had been your past few visits. He waited till you sat at his side, resting your head on his shoulder as an affectionate hello.

"Apparently there is a pretty scathing write up about me in here. One of the first since I paused the band to come here." Eddie voiced, letting one of his big hands rest on your thigh. His rings were missing, and his other usual regalia too. The grey hoodie he wore suited him well, you thought, with his pulled back hair. He looked very clean, in every sense.

"You don't have to read it if you're not ready." You reminded, lifting your head to face the man at your side. He left his hand resting on your leg as he bit his lip and looked to you too. "Or I could read it to you?"

Eddie shook his head.

"It's time I start facing some facts, ya know? Start doing the hard work of facing what I have to change now that I'm sober enough too." Eddie sighed. He'd spent the past few months getting well, letting his body and mind recover. The next step was to grow. To start molding himself into the version he came here seeking help to rebuild. It was time for the hard part. The part he never got to in rehab before.

"I messed a lot of shit up." Eddie nodded, letting his eyes fall away from yours. "I should have done a lot of things differently. Especially with you."

"Babe, it's okay. You don't have to do this." You assured, reaching out to smooth your hand over his shoulder. You had never held anything that happened against him.

"I know we both kind of got roped into a weird and shitty situation. But I could have handled it so much better. You deserved so much more respect than I gave you. And that last night. You never should have had to take care of me like that. I shouldn't have gone that far off the deep end," Eddie sighed, letting his eyes well with tears, sniffing them away as he apologized for it all. You brushed away a loose strand of his hair and shook your head.

"S'okay, Eddie. We were both just taking those days as they came. We did what we thought we needed to, to get by. It's okay."

As you pulled the guy in for a hug, Eddie fell into your frame without hesitation, burying his head in your neck. You held him there for a moment muttering something about how proud you were that he was doing his best to be better.

"Can I tell you something, now?" You wondered, smoothing Eddies hair as he pulled away to lock his dark eyes with yours. He smiled, when he noticed you were already grinning. When he nodded, you drew in a breath and said,

"I asked Brooke to book me a trip to Hawaii. You know how stressful the past few months have been. Hell, the past year." You began. Eddie nodded along. "She found that same little place we stayed in for our honeymoon." You rose your fingers to curl into air quotes around the last word of your sentence. Eddie huffed a laugh before speaking up.

"You loved it there. So did I. So you're staying there again?" Eddie beamed. So did you.

"It was no longer available to rent." You revealed, watching Eddie's brow furrow. "Because it was for sale. So I bought it. And I'm moving there. Like now. Like after I leave here." Your smile was so wide it nearly ached your cheeks. Eddie was shocked, brows shooting up, mouth hanging open, palms held out before you. You took his hands and nodded to assure you weren't fibbing.

"Oh my God." Eddie gasped. "This is perfect. I'm so happy for you." He wrapped you in another embrace, planting his lips to your cheek as you started yammering about plans to paint and furniture to buy and an open door policy Eddie was allowed to mind at all times. Eddie watched as you rambled, his grin flattening a little, until his lips were bitten together and his brows pushed togeteher.

"What is it..." You stopped listing plans and straightened your posture to watch as Eddie sucked in a deep breath. Seeming to choose his words, you tried to remain patient, ignoring the pit in your stomach threatening to grow.

"I can't have you read me this Rolling Stone article because I need to do it on my own." Eddie spoke decidedly. "I can't come visit you in Hawaii. I can't-" Eddie shuddered a breath. "I know we aren't really together. But I need to be really alone, for a while. I need to deal with my own shit, ya know?" Eddie's voice shook as he explained himself, bouncing his knee and moving his eyes from yours to his lap. The void in your stomach widened exponentially.

You wanted to argue back, remind him what he said the night you slept together last. How he said he wanted to be with you. But you couldn't be so selfish. You unfortunately understood where he was coming from. You swallowed your despair and nodded.

"Okay. Yeah, I understand Ed."

"I'm sorry. I lo-" Eddie blinked up to the sky and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

A moment of heavy silence swirled between you, as you made the hard choice to be okay with this, at least in the moment. Then you looked up with a grimace of a smile.

"Can I still write to you? I'd like to still write to you." You declared, watching Eddie work to find composure.

"I'd like that too." He breathed, forcing a smile. "I'm still happy for you." He assured, his voice thick with emotion.

"And I'm still proud of you." You smiled, and you meant it.

///

Hawaii 1987 -

Another holiday season was fast approaching. And this year you had every opportunity to celebrate. You bought a little faux tree and put it by the fireplace. You decorated the big kitchen windows with garland and let Christmas vinyl's spin from the record player in the guest room.

The little Hawaiian home was clean and cozy and decorated just the way you liked. Since moving in, fresh paint brightened the walls. Old familiar photos hung there too. A few miscellaneous tour posters and three platinum records the only memorabilia you held on to from the past four years.

On the kitchen counter was an offer from your record label you were still mulling over. The year off and away from Hollywood was a refreshing and much needed break for your sanity. Creativity seemed to flow more freely all the while. You definitely had music in mind to record. You just weren't sure if you were ready.

You liked the life you had here. The mornings you spent milling about the markets down the block. The friends you made of your neighbors. The quiet.

You missed your old life too, though. More than you thought you would have. You missed making music and singing for crowds. You missed dressing up and going out. The closest to a wild night out you had since moving here was when Brooke surprised you one summer weekend. She stayed at your insistence and took you to the finest restaurant on the Island and gossiped for two days and three nights straight. And when you asked about Eddie, she said he missed you. She said he kept your rarely exchanged letters on his coffee table. She said you should call him. But you couldn't. You wanted to respect his space. To allow him all the room he needed to grow into sobriety and into the new version of himself he was anxious to learn about.

But Brooke wouldn't answer when you asked if you should get back in the studio soon. She said only you could know the right answer to that question. So you mulled it over from then until now. Teetering closer to calling back your label every day, eager to agree to record something.

And then it was Christmas time.

It would've felt lonely if you let it. But you'd worked too hard on finding hope in the dullness, this year. You worked too hard finding peace in the quiet, this year. You reminded yourself to relish the home you got to call your own. How you truly felt you belonged here. You marveled over how fate handed you these house keys. You smiled when you remembered how you'd come to fall in love here, in more ways than one.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Mulling toward the front of your home, you expected a delivery or two. You'd ordered gifts for your neighbors this year, and some for yourself too of course. You were determined to have a happy fucking holiday.

But the man at your door was more of a gift than you'd asked for, this year.

Eddie was there, grinning wide, wringing his hands. His hair was a little longer, the longest you'd ever seen it. His frame was toned, his face was full of warm color and his eyes were bright and clear. He was a vision. He was so damn beautiful.

"What's all this?" You smiled, letting a laugh of surprise escape your lips.

"Surprise? I hope I'm not intruding." Eddie rose a hopeful brow, his dark deep eyes peering into yours for the first time in too damn long.

"Shut the fuck up and come inside you fool." You smiled and widened the doorway, stepping aside so Eddie could enter. Your heart hammered at the sight of him, your soul buzzed to life at the realization that he was here, he was really fucking here.

"Just like old times, aye?" Eddie grinned, letting his gaze float across the home he'd discovered with you, a year ago.

"Hopefully not." You noted, crossing your fingers this visit led to a more positive and promising outcome than your last time together in this home. Eddie laughed and asked how you were liking it, complimenting the changes you'd made since last he saw.

You rambled for a bit about a particularly hard renovation and another story about how perfectly another came together. Then you asked if he was hungry. It was almost dinner time.

Before you knew it, you were mixing up your famous pasta sauce to the tune of Eddie's story telling. He made you laugh so hard you cried, and nearly burnt yourself stumbling to catch your breath near the oven. He ate your dinner with gratitude and answered your questions about how his life had been going. Eddie spoke about a tiny apartment and a sparse kitchen and an empty schedule. Eddie admitted it had been hard, but that he was finally in a place he felt he had control over. Eddie helped you clean up and let you make some hot cocoa's because it was the damn season.

You led Eddie to the living room, warm mugs in hand, rambling back and forth about the year you'd spent apart. You spoke about making new friends and considering calling your label back. You mentioned how much you missed him, like a lot.

"You're not mad I'm here?" Eddie cautioned, setting his mug on the coffee table and turning to face you. He rested an elbow on the back of the sofa and his head in his hand.

"Why would I be mad, Eddie?" Your mind boggled, unable to consider feeling anything besides unbridled glee at the mere thought of the man's presence.

"Because last time I saw you, I said I couldn't come here. And now I've just invited myself over all of a sudden. I'll understand if-"

"No, I'm not mad. I didn't think you'd never show up. Maybe that's the hopeless romantic in me." You shrugged, smiled and dipped your chin toward your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassed blush.

"Romanic, eh?"

"I never stopped loving you, Eddie." Your voice was a whisper. Eddies eyes burned into yours. His gaze was full of desire you recalled rising up in him before. His gaze was full of adoration you remembered him expressing. His dark chestnut gaze was familiar and warm and so nice to stare back into after too damn long.

"Okay I'm gonna say something, then. You can kick me out after this. But I'm gonna say it, okay?" Eddie seemed to decide.

"O-okay."

"In rehab I did a lot of thinking about the past. What I fucked up. What I lost. But when I got out, I started to realize I had forever in front of me. And there was so much I still had the opportunity to fix and change. And I realized there was no version of forever I want to spend without you. I know this is like... the third time we've come to this crossroad but..."

Suddenly Eddie was sliding off the sofa and kneeling before you on one knee. Suddenly, he was reaching in his pocket. Suddenly you were staring at a ring. The stone was tigers eye and the band was gold. It was what you tried to pick out all that time ago.

"I'm a mess." Eddie proclaimed "I cannot promise to make your life better. but I can promise I want to be a part of your life. I want to marry you. Actually this time."

"For real?" You gasped a chuckle, sniffing away the spring of tears that clouded your vision from focusing on every little detail of this perfect fucking moment.

"Very much for real. No contracts. No reason besides the fact that I love you."

You were nodding, holding out your left hand and struggling to suck in a breath before you could say yes a dozen times in a row. The space in your stomach where despair often bloomed was now only full of hope and assurance and calm. The space on your finger that had been left bare since your tossed that ugly diamond ring into the ocean was now perfectly fitted with the jewel of your dreams. The space in front of you was now taken up by Eddie. And he was finally all yours.

///

New York 1988-

"So after Kelsey went to prison and Eddie got out of rehab and moved to Hawaii with me, we got lawfully married, got a dog, helped each other rediscover music."

"The release of your new album suggests you and Eddie are a duo now. Do either of you plan on making solo records again?"

"I don't." Eddie chimed in, finally settling at your side in the booth with a fresh soda in hand. "I'm too unhinged without her around. Plus, she clearly makes music better. It's because of her touch we won album of the year. We probably lost to Paul Simon in 86' because there was too much of my misguided influence on Steel and Stone." Eddie laughed and you shook your head.

"Don't discredit yourself."

"Will there be a coin toss to decide who gets to keep the Grammy?" Rolling Stone chuckled.

"We'll probably keep it on the mantel where we both can see."

After that interview ended, Brooke picked you both up from the lounge and let you stay in her loft until your flight back to the Island was due the next morning. You didn't wake her when the both of you got up and snuck off. But you left a letter on her counter, explaining that she deserved an award for putting up with the pair of you after all this time. So, you left the Grammy on her counter too. ///

Hawaii 1990- You opened the front door with one hand and balanced a bag of produce with the other. The man at that bodega at the edge of town was still selling veggies from his garden. Even though he walked with a cane now he'd manage his way to sell you produce for half price every weekend.

You breezed through your home, toward the kitchen where you rested your bags on the counter next to a radio that had been left on. Right on cue, Eddie made his way in from out back, dripping ocean water on the rug you put down to protect the hardwood floors.

"Wanna come out there with me while the waves are still calm?" He wondered, finding a towel and kissing your cheek as a morning greeting. You'd been brave enough recently to wade in the water a little deeper than ever before, with Eddie at your side, and only when the tide was calm.

"I'm making breakfast now," You waved off your husbands offer, catching a glimpse of your tiger eye ring in the sun rays through the window curtains.

"Then I'll help." Eddie smiled, stealing the tomatoes you were in the process of washing clean. He took the food to begin prepping and turned up the radio on his way, a song you'd both written played. You watched as Eddie helped make your meal and listened as he sang to you and thanked God for the music that made it possible for your paths to cross and connect together.

What you might write next together was just as an exciting thought as what the pair of you might watch on the telly later. Life was easy to find love within when Eddie really clearly loved the hell out of you. This house felt like a home with him in it. Eddie was finally home... and so were you.

///

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #fem!reader

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faithshouseofchaos · 3 months

Text

Charles Leclerc x ex!Military bodyguard reader part one

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Ever since you left the Military your life felt empty. You were a soldier that’s all you knew from the time you graduated high school till now. You graduated at the top of your JROTC class which helped you move through the ranks.

You kept in touch with your Captain who retired a year after you were honorably discharged from duty. He managed to find you a job as a private contractor you went in and the jobs no one else could. You were fast,deadly and efficient. That's why you were the best person for the job.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You asked your captain sitting in the seat in front of him.

“Maranello Italy” your captain said, taking a drag of his cigar.

“Why Italy?”

“Because that’s where your new boss works though

He lives in Monaco”

“Then why aren’t we going to Monaco?” You asked confused.

“Because he’s a formula now driver and a very popular one at that” Your captain said putting out his cigar before the jet took off.

“So you want me to babysit a spoiled formula one driver?” You asked, getting pissed.

“Yes”

“Why John?” You asked loudly.

“Because Y/n I want you to see the world. And this is the perfect opportunity and it pays well”

You grit your teeth trying not to show your frustration. You had spent years training and preparing for combat missions and now someone wants you to stand around and be a nanny.

“Fine.” You agreed it was just a temporary chance for you to explore the world while waiting for a new Military contract to come though.

After arriving in Maranello you start to get the first glimpses of your new life. The luxurious cars, the beautiful women and the endless parade of media attention was exhausting just to watch.

You couldn’t imagine being a part of it let alone trying to protect someone who enjoys it so much.

You are standing guard when you see Charles Leclerc leaving the factory. There are dozens of fans swarming him all wanting pictures, autographs and selfies. He is smiling as he works his way through the crowd signing autographs and posing for pictures. Finally he makes his way to his car and he drives past you without even acknowledging you existed.

“Come on L/n we have to meet with Frédéric Vasseur he’s expecting us” your Captain tells you.

You sat in the Vasseurs office which was a combination of red and yellow. You follow your captain to the office and take a look around, noticing the combination of red and yellow that seems to permeate the office. The office is definitely more spacious than you expected, with several couches and other furniture items.

Your eyes then land on Mr. Vasseur who is waiting in the corner with a look of sternness on his face.

"Ah Miss.L/n welcome," He says in a French accent. "I have been expecting you."

He stands up from his chair and extends his hand. You reluctantly take it and shake it.

"We have much to discuss," he says, gesturing to one of the chairs. "Please, have a seat."

You take a seat in one of the chairs, noticing that it is quite comfortable.

"I understand you have been assigned as the bodyguard for Mr. Leclerc," he says, continuing. "It is an important role. Mr. Leclerc is a very talented driver, but he has also attracted some unwanted attention. There are many people interested in seeing him harmed. It is your job to protect him. Do you understand?"

"Of course," you respond. "I will do everything in my power to make sure he is safe. But if possible, I would also like to have some say in how that protection is carried out. I have a lot of experience working with high-profile clients, and I think I can contribute a lot to Mr. Leclerc's security strategy."

Mr. Vasseur nods. "That is understandable. We are more than happy to have your expertise on board. But the most important thing is protecting Mr. Leclerc. As long as you are able to do that, we are open to any suggestions you may have. But no matter what, his safety must come first."

"I completely understand," you say, nodding your head in agreement. "Mr. Leclerc's safety is my priority. I have no problem taking any necessary steps to ensure that he is protected and remain unharmed. And I am confident that I can offer some ideas that will further enhance his security."

"Very well," Mr. Vasseur says, seemingly satisfied with your answer. "One more thing I should mention."

"What is it?" you ask, wondering what else there could be to discuss.

"Mr. Leclerc can be... difficult," he says with a slight frown. "He has a tendency to put himself in dangerous situations, and he is not always open to following rules or guidelines. So you might have to be more flexible than you are used to."

“How difficult?” You asked

“Charles likes to hop into cars with random people. He’s too trusting , it's not a bad thing, just dangerous” Mr. Vasseur replied.

“Where I’m from that gets you featured on an episode of Dateline” you said.

Mr. Vasseur sighs. "Yes, Mr. Leclerc can be very impulsive. He often doesn't think through the consequences of his actions. He is also very trusting, which can be a good thing but in his case it can be dangerous. We have had many episodes where Mr. Leclerc has gotten himself into some pretty dicey situations. So we need someone like you to keep him safe and make sure he doesn't take unnecessary risks."

You nod, understanding the situation. "I understand. I will do everything I can to keep Mr. Leclerc safe and out of harm's way. But I also need to have a little bit of a leash on him, so he doesn't just follow the first person he encounters. There have to be some boundaries set in place."

"Agreed," Mr. Vasseur says. "Mr. Leclerc is an adult, we can't force him to do anything. But we can set boundaries and make it clear to him what our expectations are. He may push back at first, but he's not a bad person. If he sees that you are just looking out for his best interests, I'm sure he will come around."

"Understood," you say, nodding your head. "I will do everything in my power to protect Mr. Leclerc and keep him safe. But I will also make sure that he understands the importance of setting boundaries and respecting them. Hopefully that way we can find a balance that works for both of us."

“When do I meet Mr.Leclerc?” You asked

“Tomorrow until then please feel free to explore the building everyone here pretty much knows about your job here” Fred says

"Sounds good," you say with a nod. You stand up and take one last look around the room before heading out.

As you explore the building, you can't help but notice how grand and luxurious everything seems. Even the hallways are filled with artwork and decorations. It's a contrast to the military buildings you're used to.

You explore for a while, but eventually you start to get lost in the maze of hallways. You consider asking someone for directions, but you feel like it might be best to just wait until tomorrow to meet Charles.

The next morning you find yourself back in Fred Vasseur's office with Charles Leclerc standing off to the side staring at you.

“First Sergeant L/n it’s nice to meet you” Charles said, holding a hand out for you to shake.

“I wish I could say the same” you said flatly ignoring the hand which Man dropped to his side.

“I’m sorry you’ll have to ignore Sargent L/n here, she is not what most would call a people person” Your Captain says.

Charles smiles as he meets you, extending his hand for a handshake. You look at him, but don't move to shake his hand. Instead, you cross your arms and stare at him.

Your Captain seems to be right, you don't feel any desire to shake hands with him. You remain stone faced and refuse to even acknowledge his gesture.

Charles seems taken aback by your lack of response and he looks at your Captain. "Is she always like this?" he asks.

Your Captain shrugs. "I wasn't joking when I said she wasn't a people person. She tends to be a little standoffish at first, but she warms up eventually."

Charles gives a slight nod. "Okay, well, I guess we'll have to see how it goes," he says, brushing off your lack of response. Charles turns his attention back to you. "So you're going to be my bodyguard?" he asks.

You uncross your arms to nod slightly. You still look rather stiff and stoic as you respond. "Yes, that's right," you say. "I've been assigned as your bodyguard, so my job is to keep you safe."

"And you're confident that you can do that?" Charles asks, raising an eyebrow slightly. You can tell he's skeptical about your capabilities as a bodyguard.

"I'm more than confident," you reply, your face remaining serious and determined. "I have over ten years of experience as a Special Forces operative. I'm trained in all kinds of defense techniques and have protected high-profile clients before. I know what it takes to keep you safe, and I won't let anything get in my way."

Charles seems impressed by your confidence and he nods slightly. "Okay, if you say so," he says. "Just be aware that things get pretty crazy around here. People see me everywhere I go and I'm always being approached by fans and reporters. So you need to be ready to handle anything that comes up."

"You can count on me to be ready for anything," you reply. "I'm trained to handle all kinds of situations, no matter how chaotic or unpredictable. If I'm not already prepared for something, I'll adapt quickly and figure it out on the fly."

"Good to hear," Charles says with a slight smile. "Let's hope we never have to test that."

A sudden look of concern crosses his face. "One more thing, though. We're going to a party later tonight and I'm expecting a lot of people there. So be ready for it to get a little wild."

A slight scowl crosses your face at the mention of a party. You're not a big fan of large gatherings and crowds, especially parties. But you know that your job as his bodyguard requires you to be prepared for anything. So you quickly mask your expression, responding politely. "I understand," you say, "I'll be ready for it."

Charles nods and looks satisfied with your response. "Good, I'm confident that we'll work well together," he says.

As the meeting concludes your Captain pulls you aside. "Okay, the party tonight is a big event so make sure you're on your toes. Charles can be... unpredictable, so be prepared for anything. Are you up to the task?"

You nod slightly. "Of course. I'm trained to handle anything that comes at me," you say, "I'll make sure I'm on top of things no matter what."

"Good. I have faith in you," your Captain replies. "I know this job may seem tough at first, but it's truly an honor. Charles is a special person and protecting him is important. Make sure you keep that in mind every step of the way."

"I will," you reply, feeling slightly more confident now that you know you have his trust. You've been through a lot in your time in the military, and you're ready to face this new challenge. You're determined to protect Charles with everything you have and make sure nothing happens to him.

206 notes · View notes

me-loving-woso · 11 months

Text

Monthly visits.

Prompt: Honestly? I don’t know what this is, nor I know if it’s any good. The idea came from one of my midnight delusions when I think about stuff to write. Is this a kid fic? Yes? Kinda. Most probably. Do I care? No. Will there be sequels about it? Most probably. I still don’t know. Probably the sequels will feature more Alexia, but for now, you have to endure this 7.4k Drabble.

Actual prompt: In one of your monthly visits to a children’s hospital you meet Ava, she is going to change your life completely.

It was a hectic day for you in Barcelona today. Every month, whenever you had a day off, you would go to the local children’s hospital to support children with Leukaemia. Your younger brother had the same condition, so it has always been an important topic for you to support.

Every month you tried to convince one of your teammates, or from the girl’s team or the boys, to go with you. Usually, the children would go crazy if you brought them Pedri or Gavi. They would sign autographs and shirts and sometimes even get a ball and show off some of their tricks. When the club found out about this, they wanted to set up interviews and shootings in which they would broadcast or post your visits with them on social media, but you always said no. You liked this to be kept quiet, to not stress the kids, and not bring unwanted attention towards them; you weren’t there for the money, but just to give happiness to anyone you could.

You knew you weren’t the most famous athlete in the club, especially when you had the likes of Lewandowski, Pedri, and Gavi. On the girl’s side, you played for one of the most famous women’s soccer clubs and was one of the captains; well, if Alexia and Marta wouldn’t play in a game, which wasn’t very probable. But still, Alexia and Mapi were more famous than you; therefore, the children they tend to want their jerseys to be signed by them, but occasionally, some would recognize you, and you were delighted in signing and taking pictures or carefully playing with them whenever they wanted to.

You tried not to get too attached to the kids as you knew that they still had a deadly illness. Initially, it was hard, especially when you asked a nurse about a kid, and they would just give you a sad look. You would come home from the day and lay in your bed, absently trying to make sense of it. You hated seeing children suffer.

But there was a girl you met 5 months ago; she was brilliant but also a little prick. Her name was Ava. The first month you saw her, you brought with you Pedri. He was like a little brother to you, you got along great, and he was great with kids.

You went into her room, she was super excited to meet you both that she even asked for a double autograph. At first, you were confused by the request, but then you figured that the second autograph would be for a friend or a family member. So you went on normally with your day. The kids were all happy, you played Fifa with them and then, when it was time to leave, you decided to say goodbye to all of them. As you entered Ava’s room, you saw her working on something with her computer. As soon as she saw you, she shut it down very quickly.

“What are you doing?” You smile, walking to her. You were curious as to what she was doing. She was eight, so you knew that whatever it was, it was going to be something funny.

“Nothing!” She says quickly, hiding her computer behind her back.

You started to gently tickle her sides, conscious of her weak state. She started laughing, but soon you stopped and got her computer.

“If you open it, I will cry, and you will never come here ever again!” She threatens me, pouting.

“Why don’t you want to show it to me? Is it a secret boyfriend?” You smirk suggestively.

“No! Ew! Boys are gross!” She exclaims disgusted.

“I agree with you.” You say. “Boys are gross.”

“You can’t see it! It’s - It’s a secret.” She says, trying to grab the computer from you.

“Oh, come on! I’ll tell you one of my secrets if you tell me.” You try to convince her.

“Okay, but promise me that you won’t get mad.”

“Pinky promise.” You say, putting up your pinky and waiting for her to do the same.

You slowly open the screen and see a tab with eBay. She posted one of the two autographs she received today, with a picture of you and Pedri signing it. You start laughing and looking at her, amused.

“You sneaky little child! You are selling them?” You chuckle.

She crossed her arms unamused and replied as if it was the most obvious thing, “One is for me, and one is to sell.”

You look at her with a questioning look.

“My sister told me that I can’t buy too many books and video games because they are too expensive, so I buy them myself.”

“You are a little businesswoman.”

“Shh, you can’t tell anyone, especially my sister. She would get so mad. She hates it when I do this kind of stuff!”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Again?” You chuckle.

“Yes.” So you promise, then you stand up from the side of her bed and are about to leave when she asks, “Will you come back?”

“I come every month,” You say, turning around to face the little girl.

“If I’m already better, can I come here just to see you?” She asks shyly, hiding her mouth with her hands.

“Of course, you can!” You say goodbye to her and leave the hospital, waiting for Pedro. When you see him, you both get in the car.

“You know, today, I saw Ava again, and I saw her selling our autographs on the internet.” You laugh.

“That girl is sneaky!” He replies.

“She even insisted and made me promise not to say anything to anybody.”

Over the next three months, whenever you saw her, you would wink at her and make whoever was with you that day sign a double autograph for her. Then when you finished staring with the other kids, you would go into her room, and you guys would talk and play with cards. You would always question why she would never talk about her parents but only about her bigger sister and how great she was. You weren’t expecting her to be sixteen when you finally meet her. Her name was Lucia. You saw her as you were about to say goodbye to Ava. You went into her room, but she was already asleep, and Lucia was sitting on a chair next to her.

You thought both girls were sleeping, so you quietly left the room, but as you were about to close the door, you heard a quiet whisper.

“You must be y/n.” She states, rather than asking. She stands up and walks to you.

“Yes, that’s me. Are you Ava’s sister?”

“You know, she always talks about you.” She says, whispering and closing the room behind her.

“She always talks to me about you.” You say. “I think that as of right now, I know more about you than myself.” You try to joke, but she doesn’t laugh, leaving an awkward silence between you. Making you notice how tired she looks, as if she hadn’t slept in a long while.

“Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?” You offer.

“Nah, don’t worry.” She shrugs.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it. Five minutes, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

She slowly nods and then follows you to the cafeteria, which is open 24/7. Thankfully there was nobody there, so you could sit in peace.

You follow her as she sits down at a table, and then she breaks the silence.

“Why are you helping her?” She whispers.

“What?”

“Listen, I don’t know your intentions here, but she is really getting attached to you, and whenever you are done with these ‘trips’ to the hospital for the kids, she will suffer from it, and I don’t want that.”

“What are yo-“

“She has already lost so many people in her life; she doesn’t need another one.”

“Your parents are not in the picture anymore, right?” You ask.

She slowly nods. “It’s just me and her for now.”

“Where are you guys staying?”

“As you know, she is staying at the hospital.” She says as if she is stating the obvious.

“You?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Listen, I know what it’s like to be in this situation; let me-”

“No, you don’t know that!” She says defensively.

“Ten years ago, I was you.” You slowly explain. “My brother, Nico, had Leukaemia, and I was in the same position as you. I was just a little bit older and could work. My parents didn’t give a shit about us. They said it was too much work to take care of Nico and wanted me out of the house because I was a footballer and gay. I didn’t have a support system. I was the support system.”

You take a deep breath and then continue. “Fortunately, I had a job, so I was able to take care of Nico and I, but not everyone is that lucky.”

“So you are saying that you feel bad for us?” She asks rhetorically, standing up from her chair, ready to leave.

“No, I don’t. When I started these ‘trips,’ as you say, five years ago, I told myself that I would never get too attached to any of the patients. But then I met Ava, and she is so smart and also a little sneaky, I grew fond of her.” You give her a light smile and continue.

“I know that the money she gets from selling autographs, t-shirts, and stuff, isn’t for buying books and video games, as she says, but for you guys to survive. I would love to help in any way. And I know that you probably won’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust a stranger either.”

Lucia sits again and looks at the table, playing with her drink. Looking almost guilty, as if you found out about a secret no one was supposed to know.

“I can’t do this anymore.” She barely utters, breaking the cold and defensive mask that she put on with you.

You slowly take her wrist, trying to reassure her. “You are stronger than you think.”

“I’m just so tired. She deserves better than me. She deserves a whole family. A better support system, and instead, she got stuck with me. I still need to finish school. I don’t have a paying job; how will we go through this?” She starts to silently sob. Hearing her cries breaks your heart; you stand up and circle around the table to hug her.

“You are already doing a great job. Ava is so proud and thankful for you. You are already doing the best you can, which is more than enough.”

She removes herself from the hug. And you continue, “Where are you staying? Not Ava, but you.”

“I’m staying during the night at a local women’s shelter. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the best option.” She says shyly.

You couldn’t let her get back there.

“Come to my home with me. We have a spare bedroom, food, and whatever you need.”

She takes two steps back. “No no. You are already doing more than enough for us. This is too much.”

“Let me help you. You won’t leave her for too long. You need to rest too, so you can be there for her. Come on, go get your stuff. I’ll wait for you here.”

She just nods and goes to her sister’s room.

In the meantime, you text your girlfriend Alexia that Lucia will stay at your house for the night. After a few minutes, she reappears with a backpack. you exit the hospital and get to the parking lot.

You get inside your car, and she sits beside you. “I live fifteen minutes from here. I hope you are not scared of dogs because you are going to see one.”

“I don’t have a problem with dogs. I didn’t even know you owned one. Ava didn’t tell me anything about that.”

“Well, it’s not technically mine. It’s my girlfriend’s. And you will probably see her too.”

“Is she okay with me staying? Cause if that’s not the case, it’s okay.” She soon rambles.

“Don’t worry, she knows. Most probably, she won’t even know you are there. She is a sleepy head.” You smile, remembering how Alexia would never get out of bed if not for training.

“Is she a footballer too?”

“Yeah, it’s Alexia Putellas. I think you know her.”

“Oh my god! So the rumors are true.”

“Well, we tried to hide it.” You remark, slightly blushing, thinking that you actually hid your relationship well from the media.

“Not that much.” She laughs.

As soon as you get home, Alexia greets both of you.

“Que tal, mi amor?” She hugs you instead of kissing you and then focuses on Lucia.

“You must be Lucia. Hi, my name is Alexia.”

“Yeah, I know who you are. Here in Barcelona, everybody knows you.” She chuckles while your girlfriend blushes lightly.

You take her to your guest room and show her the bathroom. She takes a shower while you go to your kitchen, searching for Alexia.

You sit on top of the counter and ask her to come closer to you. She finds herself between your legs while you take hold of her shirt.

“I believe you owe me a kiss.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if you told her we were together or even if you wanted to kiss me in front of her.”

“Don’t worry, Amorcito.” You cutely rub her nose with yours, then put your finger to your lips, asking her to kiss you.

She kisses you sweetly, then gives you pecks everywhere on your face. First on the cheeks, then on the nose, on the forehead, and finally on the lips again. You smile at the action. Even though you had been together for three years now, she still managed to make you feel all fuzzy on the inside with even the smallest actions.

When she finished, you hugged her and stayed in her embrace until you heard a door open, and Lucia came down the stairs.

“Sorry to interrupt you guys.” She says awkwardly. “I just wanted to thank you guys again and say goodnight.” She quickly goes up the stairs, embarrassed to have interrupted something, not letting either of you reply.

“Go to the nena; I’ll get ready for bed.” Alexia encourages you.

You get to the guest room and knock on the door; you hear a faint ‘come in’ so you enter.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you guys.” She says she had her back on the head board, with the covers tucked to the stomach.

“You weren’t interrupting anything.”

“Thank you for letting me stay today. You really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I’m happy you stayed. Honestly, I really needed some new energy around the house. Don’t tell Alexia, but sometimes living with her it’s like living with a granny.” You joke, earning a laugh from her, while you hear from the other room, “I heard you!”

“Ooh, she’s mad.” Lucia teases you.

“Nah, don’t worry, I said worse in three years of relationship.” Now turning back to serious, “Listen, I’m really sorry, but tomorrow I have training early tomorrow and-“

“Y/n, just tell me when I have to leave.”

“You can stay until you want; I can call you a taxi or take you to the hospital whenever me or Alexia come back from training.”

“I’ll be out of your hair in no time, don’t worry.”

“I don’t care, honestly. I know reaching out for help is difficult, but here is my phone number; if you need anything, just call me.” You gave her a note with your phone number, then affectionately caressed her cheek. “Good night Lucia.” You close the guest room door, turn off the light, and go to your room.

As soon as you enter your room, you are met with your girlfriend, who is cutely pouting on the edge of the bed. “I’m not a granny!”

“Yes, you are! You always go to bed early and make weird faces when you can’t see properly.” You tease her.

“I’m a footballer!”

“Yes, you are! A pretty darn good one!” You add. While literally pushing her onto the bed and getting on top of her.

“Get off me!” She says, trying to be serious. “I’m still mad at you!” She says while trying to squirm out of your grip.

“Nope! I’m sorry for calling you a granny. Will you forgive me?”

“Never!” She says, so you begin to tickle her sides. She started laughing while trying to remove your hands from her, but she couldn’t. “Okay, okay, I forgive you! Stop it!” You stop tickling her and get off her going to the bathroom.

You get ready for bed, putting on one of her nike shirts and a pair of soccer shorts, and then you plop on the bed beside Alexia. “Can I have cuddles, Amorcito?” You ask while stretching your arms, opening and closing your hands.

“Si, mi chiqui. Come here.” You put yourself on top of her and begin giving her sweet pecks in the middle of her chest. “No funny business tonight; la nena is sleeping two rooms from us.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything.” You say, continuing while smiling.

“I’m very proud of you today, Y/n.”

“I’m really sorry if I didn’t tell you beforehand.”

“Look at me.” She says, waiting for you to look at her.

“You did what is right and what everyone should do. Whatever you do, I will always support you.”

You give her a loving kiss on the lips, thanking her for the words. “Next month I’m coming with you. It’s been long overdue, and I want to meet Ava.”

The next day you wake up and go to see Lucia; you knock at her door, but she doesn’t reply, so you slowly enter the room. You found all of the bedsheets neatly folded and a note that thanked you for everything. You were a little disappointed, but you knew how difficult it was to trust people and accept help, especially when you are alone. You figured that she probably went to see her sister in the hospital.

The following month you finally brought Alexia with you. The kids would always ask you to bring her to the hospital, but unfortunately, she never had the time to do that with her busy schedule. You had already informed the hospital that you would come, and the children were thrilled to do something different rather than always boringly watching tv or reading some children’s book.

As Alexia greeted all the kids and played and joked with them, you went to see Ava, hoping that you would see Lucia too. You didn’t expect to see everything packed up and the two girls with their backpacks on, ready to go.

As soon as she saw you, Ava ran up to you, and you lifted her weak body, giving her a hug. “The doctor said I can go home now! I’m not sick anymore!”

“I’m so happy!” You say while hugging her a little tighter.

“So, who is it today? Who did you bring today?” She asks you excitedly.

“Why don’t you go and find out?” You say, indicating where Alexia is; she quickly squirms out of your embrace, exiting the room and leaving you alone with Lucia. Her eyes stuck to the floor from the moment you opened the door. She wouldn’t look at you.

“I’m really happy that she is finally healthy now,” You say honestly.

“That’s the most important thing.” She agrees weakly, finally looking at you.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling better now that she is better.”

“Where will you guys stay now?”

She hesitates, but then slowly, she starts, “I do-“

“Lucia! Look who came today with y/n!” Suddenly Ava came inside the room, dragging Alexia with her.

“Hi, Lucia.” Alexia waves at her, then focus again on Ava. “Y/n, how did you manage to convince Alexia to come here today?” Ava asks you in awe. “She is soo famous and the best player in the whole world!”

“I know! She really wanted to come, though, right?” You say, searching for Alexia’s confirmation. “Yes, of course!” She says, then kneeling in front of the small kid, “Y/n talks a lot about you.” She whispers, “She never talks about you, though,” She remarks, smirking. Alexia puts her hand on her hand, pretending to be offended.

“Who cares? I’m still better than her at football,” She whispers loud enough for you to hear, then sending you a cheeky wink; you react by poking your tongue out at her. This made Alexia earn a laugh from Ava and a chuckle from Lucia. She then drags Alexia out of the room, asking her if she could show her a trick with the ball.

“She’s her favorite player; our dad always brought us to your games.” She says sadly.

“I didn’t know you liked football.”

“I loved football, I even used to play it until a year ago, but now it brings out too many memories, so no football for me for a while.” She chuckles.

“Which position did you play?”

“Guess.”

“Center back?”

“Nah, striker.”

“Oh wow! I’m sure you were the top scorer in your team.” You nod, surprised.

“I was, I even was called up in La Masia, but my parents wanted me home, and then Ava got sick, so I never was able to go.”

“Oh wow! You were good then!”

“Don’t act too surprised!” She says, teasing you, hitting you on the shoulder.

“I’m not!” You say rubbing where she just hit you “If the circumstances were different, would you have wanted to go?”

“Yes? I guess, I don’t know? I loved football.”

“Not anymore?”

“I haven’t played in so long; I don’t think I even remember how to kick a ball.” She chuckles.

“Well, I guess we have to find out!” You say, while she looks at you puzzled.

“Come on, go get your stuff.” You say to her while putting your backpack on your shoulders, waiting for her to do the same.

“Where do you want to take me?” She says, looking at you puzzled.

“Don’t you wanna show off your skills?”

“I guess I don’t?”

“Come on, it will be fun!” You try to convince her.

“I don’t have cleats.” She tries to find an excuse.

“What’s your shoe size?”

“39, why?”

“I have the same size. If you want, you can use a spare pair of mine.” You offer.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“I’m not being nice; this is me trying to show you that you, too, deserve to be happy, and you can have fun even if you think you don’t deserve it.”

“I-I don’t know what to say. I can’t leave her alone in the hospital; that girl has too much energy for a cancer patient.” She jokes.

“I think Alexia is keeping her busy enough. I genuinely think she is trying to steal my girlfriend from me.” She’s still not convinced. “Besides joking, Alexia is really good with kids, and she wouldn’t mind, but if it bothers you, we can bring her with us. Or they can come later on.”

“Oh, definitely, later on, I won’t embarrass myself with Alexia Putellas; I don’t think I could recover from that.”

“Oh, thank you! You know I am too a Barça player, right? And that I was the one that scored the winning goal in the last champions league, right?” You fake being offended.

“Oh, it was merely a tap-in.” She jokes, trying to rile you up. You knew she was joking, but you also knew this was a low blow to your confidence.

“Patri was the real hero in that Final, and I guess it was a tap-in, but it still brought us to the victory; that’s got to be worth something.”

“You know Ava basically woke up the whole floor when you scored that goal; she was so happy.” She smiles at you, quickly reminiscing that memory.

“Well, I can show you that I can score goals that are not tap-ins if you come with me.”

“Let’s see if you can do that!” She challenges you.

“If you win, I will get you two tickets to Camp Nou next year for every match you want to see, but if I win, you will let me help you.” You hesitate to say those words, hoping you wouldn’t push her away.

“Prepare to spend a lot of money because I never give up.” She teases you.

“You have some confidence, pequeña.”

“I’m not small!”

“Come on, go and say goodbye to Ava; we’ll leave in five minutes.”

As she exits the room to find Ava, you wait in there for her when you see your girlfriend appear from the door.

“Ava is wonderful.” She says while taking your hands.

“So wonderful that you would stay with her for another couple of hours?” You try while she gives you a puzzled look.

“What did you do, Y/n?” She asks, removing her hands from yours.

You tuck your arms behind your back, and shyly, you explain. “I’m taking Lucia to the field. Apparently, she played football, so I want her to have fun for a minute.” She doesn’t reply, so you continue, “But if it’s too much, I can bring her with me and Lucia, no problem. I just-“

“You are rambling, mi amor.” She says while grabbing you by the waist, trying to ground you. “You go have fun with her. I will come to the field after so we can play together.” She offers while smiling at you.

You give to get on your tippy toes and give her a small peck on the lips, “Thank you, Amorcito.”

“Just don’t have too much fun without me.” She grins, giving you a forehead kiss. You hear steps coming your way; you turn your head and see Lucia and Ava looking at you.

“You two are disgusting,” Lucia says, giving you guys a disgusted face while you just laugh at her. Ava instead looks at the two of you, trying to understand what the relationship is between the two of you. She looks at you and asks, “Is Alexia your wife?”

You choke on saliva, not expecting that question. After a mild coughing session, you received an annoying look from Alexia and Lucia.

Not that you didn’t want to marry her because she was the only woman you could see yourself growing old with, but you were just waiting for the right moment to propose. Honestly, you didn’t even know if she wanted to get married, especially to you.

You reply, “No, no, she is my girlfriend.”

“Wow, how did you land her?” She asks you curiously.

“Why is everybody bullying me today?” You say exasperatedly without even replying to the question. “Lucia, are you ready to go?”

After saying goodbye, you get in the car with Lucia and drive to the training facility.

“So I guess you don’t like the idea of getting married?” Lucia asks, breaking the silence.

“No no, it’s not that. I would love to get married, especially with someone like Alexia; she is incredible and so supportive.” You take a deep breath. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Wait, are you going to propose?” She asks excitedly.

“I was planning to!”

“Oh my god!”

“Don’t you dare tell her! Or I swear I’ll get mad.”

“I won’t” She makes the movement of zipping her mouth with her hand and throwing the key away.

You get to the training facility a few minutes later; the field is closed, so Lucia looks at you and asks, “If it’s closed, how can we enter?”

“Can you keep another secret?” She nods, and you take out a key and unlock the door. “I was drunk after we had won our first Champions League, I don’t know why, but I decided I wanted the keys to the field, so I convinced Mapi and Patri to help me. Let’s just say that Alexia had to come out and help us because we were too drunk to keep quiet, and she didn’t want me to get in trouble. I got the keys, made two other copies for my accomplices, and slept on the couch for two days, but it was well worth it.” You say proudly.

“You know, when I imagined what you were like, when we would see you on tv or at the stadium, I pictured you differently.” She smiles at you while following you to the changing rooms.

“How did you picture me?” She asked curiously while handing her a spare pair of cleats.

“They call you the asesina silenciosa for a reason, you know?” While putting on the cleats, she continues, “You are always so cold and precise on the pitch, scoring and assisting in so many games, whereas in real life, you are basically the opposite. You are very nice, and you always try to help everybody, and a literal gay panic in front of Alexia; it’s so funny and very painful to see.”

“She’s just very beautiful and amazing, okay? Leave me alone.” You reply shyly, blushing a little.

“So, are you ready to get your ass beaten?” She asks you jokingly.

“You know that I’m a professional athlete, right? I get paid to play football.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Y/ln.”

You get on the pitch and begin passing the ball to each other; initially, she was a little rusty, but as soon as she got comfortable with the ball, you knew she had a lot of talent and potential.

“So favorite player?” You ask her.

“Messi. He’s just way too good and so great to watch.” She answers. “What about you?”

“All-time favorite, of course, is Messi too, but right now, I really enjoy seeing playing Rodri and De Bruyne.”

After passing the ball to each other and chatting, you begin doing some shooting drills and dribbling. You were shocked, to say the least; she was so good, she dribbled with ease, and her finishing skills were incredible.

The first time she dribbled past you, your ego got scarred for life, but then as time went on, you began cheating a little by holding her shirt or picking her up from the air and moving her whole body away from the ball. She would get mad at you, while you would just laugh it out, but she began to do the same thing to you after a while. By the end, you were laughing on the ground, trying to catch your breath.

As you both calmed down, she began talking. “I really missed it.”

“Playing football?”

“Yes, and having fun. You know, I couldn’t even touch a ball after our parents left us; my dad was the one that loved soccer and Barcelona maybe more than anything, probably more than his family. I tried playing soccer to make him proud of me so that maybe he could see and pay attention to me, but I guess it wasn’t enough. After Ava was diagnosed with Leukaemia, they told me they would have to go on a ‘work trip,’ but they never returned. And I stopped playing football.”

“I hope that this didn’t bring back bad memories. I know how it feels when you think you are not good enough, but if it helps, you are a great kid, Lucia. In these last months, you have proven yourself to be more than enough for Ava and your parents. Any parent would be proud of what you did for Ava; not everyone is capable of that or willing to do it. You have proved everyone wrong. You couldn’t be more proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, I really needed to hear that.” She breaks down crying.

“Come here.” You say to her while gently holding her while she cries. “Let it all out; I’m here for you.” After a few minutes, she stops; you keep hugging her, waiting for her to let go of you, when you hear a car arrive. “Your sister is here. Do you want me to come with you to freshen up?”

“No, no. I can go alone; just tell them I went to the bathroom.” She informs you.

“Will do, captain.” You say, giving her the military salute; she replies with a surprised chuckle and a ‘you’re so weird.’

As Alexia gets inside the pitch, you see Ava running towards you, giving you a crushing hug that makes you stumble from your sitting position on the grass to falling to your back on the ground.

“How did it go with Alexia? Did she behave well?” You ask the little girl.

“We stayed at the hospital, we played games and I pranked a nurse!” You hear the voice of Lucia from behind you, so you tell her sister to go to her and cheer her up. As she walks to her sister, Alexia sits next to you, and you turn to her.

“You are really good with kids.” She remarks.

“You too, you know. Would you ever want kids?” You ask her.

“I never thought about it, but I think it would be something I would like with you.”

“I think I need to help them. They deserve to have a house and a support system. Lucia is so smart and kind, and fierce. While, Ava is so full of energy, funny, and sneaky.”

“I love you, Y/n, and even though this is too early and I still haven’t fully processed every-“

“It’s too much for you. I get it. But they’ll be on the streets if I don’t help them. You must understand why I’m doing this, but I can’t do this without you.”

“We’ve been by each other’s sides for years; you think I’m gonna leave now? If you’d let me finish, Y/n, I would have told you to do it. I will always support you, and I kinda got attached to the Nena. So go through with it; you have my full support.”

“If it actually happens, our lives are going to change drastically, would you be ready for that?”

“I got you all for myself for three years; it’s time to expand our little family. Of course if they want to. Don’t push too hard; she is still scarred and scared to trust again. Be cautious.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You say beaming at her.

“I’m the lucky one.” She smiles while gently rubbing my thigh and then standing up.

She goes to Lucia and asks her if she wants to play some football with her; she is hesitant at first, but after a bit of convincing from you and Alexia, she eventually decides to play with her, but you know that she is holding back.

Alexia knew that something was wrong. Hence, she took the ball into her hands, and stopped the little competition that they were doing, “I’m not made of glass; you can play harder on me, you know.” She offers.

Lucia throws her hands in the air, “I’m not going to be the reason why La Reina got injured again.”

“I’m taller and stronger than you; you won’t injure me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She chuckles while they return to playing, Lucia clearly getting more physical.

You laughed at their interaction and how Lucia worried about hurting Alexia;.while Alexia just wanted to have fun. After a while of playing, Alexia turned her head to you, mouthing the words “She’s good”, you respond by nodding approvingly, shifting your focus on the little child next to you, who at the moment was very quiet.

“Did you get your autograph from Alexia?” You ask her, trying to break the silence.

She slowly nods, still looking at her sister, then turns to you. “Yes, only one, though.”

“You didn’t want one for you?”

“No, I only got one for me; I didn’t want to sell hers.” You see her softly yawn, trying to keep open her eyes.

“Did you have fun today?”

She nods, then looks again at her sister, who was trying to dribble past Alexia, “I hadn’t seen her that happy since before I got sick.” She smiles like a proud sister, showing signs of her tiredness again.

“Are you tired?” You ask her.

“No.” She says defensively while crossing her arms, yawning again. You chuckle at her, finding it adorable how she tries to hide how much she wants to sleep.

“Yes, you are!” You say, poking her side. “You can nap if you want; I’ll watch out for your sister for you.” You offer.

She slowly nods and then moves near you; you didn’t expect her to sit between your legs, curling on your chest. You were shocked; you didn’t know what to do, so you just put your hands on her tiny body and rubbed her back. “You’re comfier than the grass.” She says, dozing off to sleep. You kiss the top of her head and then whisper, “Go to sleep, Nena.” And she did.

You were physically in a very weird position, as you knew that you would be getting cramps in a couple of minutes, while mentally, you couldn’t nor remember the instance of ten years ago when you were holding your brother in the same position you were with Ava. She reminded you of Nico, both of them had the same personality and were too smart for their age.

Trying to get more comfortable, you slowly sink to the ground from your sitting position. At the same time, Ava gently stirs, repositioning herself, fisting your shirt with her tiny hand, not wanting you to let go, even though you wouldn’t go for the world. After a few minutes, you doze off and get woken up by a light caress on your cheek. You slowly open your eyes, Ava is still sleeping soundly, and on your side, Alexia is waiting for you to wake up.

“Mi Chiqui is getting dark outside; we need to leave.” You slowly get up, still Ava in your arms, spoiler alert: you couldn’t feel your arms and back anymore. She gently stirs awake, “Shhh, go back to sleep.” You whisper to her, still rubbing her tiny back. She was so small for a six-year-old.

You see Lucia, she was taking your cleats off her feet; putting on her shoes again. You give Ava to Alexia, and then you walk up to her. “I’m sorry she had to sleep on you; I-I was just too caught up playing that I didn’t even notice she was tired. I’m really sorry.” She tries to explain.

“Hey, don’t apologize; you were having fun, and she was just tired after a long day. And now look! She stole my girlfriend again.” You say sincerely while trying to joke in the last part, pointing at Alexia, who was rocking Ava in her arms, showing off one of her big smiles reserved for children and for the people she loves.

Then you turn to her and ask her, “Are you hungry?”

“Oh yeah, I’m starving. I haven’t run that much in months.” Then she backtracks. “Oh, wait. I knew what you were doing; you are trying to manipulate me into eating with you guys.” She asks, clearly understanding your intentions.

“Manipulate is a big word, isn’t it? I guess you can call it offering to eat something with us?”

“Nah, the right word is definitely manipulate or gaslight.” She remarks.

“Well, do you want to come with us?”

“I don’t know; I must get her to bed.”

“Where are you guys staying, if I can ask?”

“You already know the answer. And don’t you dare ask me to stay with you. That is too much, and I wouldn’t know how to repay you. I can deal with everything on my own.”

You knew she wouldn’t budge on that one, but you had to give it to her; she knew your actions before you said anything.

“Why don’t we just eat something and figure everything out later?” You offer.

So you did that; you brought Lucia and Ava into your home, ordered take-out, and put on a movie to watch. Alexia and Ava were petting Nala, which in the beginning, the little dog hid in your room, but progressively through the night, she slowly got accustomed to the new people and gladly accepted the cuddles that the younger girl had given her.

The scene that was before your eyes oddly felt really domestic. Most nights with Alexia, if they weren’t spent out with friends, would include snuggling on the couch and relaxing; the only difference was that there were two new other people now.

You tried not to get too attached to them and tried not to act as a parent but more like someone that could help. They already had parents, and you for sure didn’t want to replace them. You just wanted to give the help you weren’t given when it happened to you, so if some food and a roof were needed, you wouldn’t hesitate to share that and maybe a little love here and there.

Ava was asleep, and Alexia was about to, so you tried to get the attention of Lucia so you could talk to her. You went outside on the porch with her so you wouldn’t disturb Ava from her much-needed sleep.

“Thank you for today, I really appreciated everything you did for us, but I think we have to get going.”

“You can always stay here.” You offer while she tries to dissuade you. “Listen, if it’s a problem to stay with us, I can book you a hotel room, but please let me help you find accommodation. I would love for you to stay until you find a better place. Ava can start school, while you could go and play in La Masia, or finish school and go to university, or both, whichever you prefer.And I know I’m not your mother, nor your relative, I’m just a stranger, but it wouldn’t sit well with me to let you guys leave somewhere that maybe it’s not even safe.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. And you don’t owe me anything.” She scratches her forehead, thinking, “Why are you even doing this?”

“What?”

“Why are you helping us?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I just know that I would love to help you in every way you let me. And you can always tell me to fuck off. But I hope you don’t” She chuckles, and for the first. The time she looks at you. “So what do you think?”

She remained silent for a while, while you patiently waited for her to reply, hoping it would be a positive answer. “Only until I can find a better solution for us. Plus, Ava already loves it here and loves you. When she saw you for the first time, she kept gushing about you and how you were her second favorite player, the first being Alexia” You chuckle. “And maybe living in a real house is better than waiting for social workers to find another accommodation.” She shyly adds. “I think you should ask Alexia if it’s okay for her too; I don’t want to get in the middle of you too.”

“She’s okay with it. She loves kids, and believe me, in a matter of days, she’s going to turn all protective, especially with Ava; she always had a soft spot for kids. As for the social workers, let me handle it, okay? I’ll try my best to make it as quick as possible.” She slowly nods and whispers a ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise and hugging you. It took you a second to react, but soon you tightened the embrace, waiting for her to leave it.

“Probably, it’s going to be much of a burden for you rather than us.” You chuckle, “When our friends and Alexia’s family and my brother find out that we have two new people in our home, they’ll want to meet you. But I’ll take care of it.” You explain.

She removes herself from your embrace and looks at you. “Can I come to your games too? I miss being at the stadium.” She asks shyly.

“Oh, you must!” Your jokes. “I expect you to come every week with my jersey on.” You grin, pointing at her.

“We’ll see about that. I also like some other players in the squad, like Mapi Leon or Caroline Graham Hansen.” She playfully smirks.

“Then I don’t think I can give you any tickets.” You fake being offended. “Now go to your sister and take her to bed.” You grin, winking at her.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you y/n.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fic

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stinalotte · 10 days

Text

So. Basingstoke Comic Con.

This is going to be a rant. I'm German, so I have a PhD in a) complaining and b) being blunt. Perfect combination for this post. It's going to be long, so buckle up.

I give explicit permission to repost, reblog, screenshot and post to other websites, comment, tag, and add to this in any way you see fit. Feel free to write your own experiences and criticism.

It's a modified version of the feedback email I sent them. Since then, they have put out a statement which directly contradicts some of the stuff other people have told us (and have evidence for) and which blames everyone from attendees to guests to staff to the weather.

First of all, despite all the mess with the actual con, I had a ton of fun. I hadn't seen some of these people in 20 years. I hadn't met some of y'all before, and I talked to so many people this weekend. I don't regret a single meeting, hug, smile, or laugh. I do wish however for the organizers to step on legos for the rest of their lives.

Frankly, they had a huge business opportunity and they blew it. They could have established themselves as THE Stargate convention in Europe. People were taking 15-hour flights to be there. We were willing to spend hundreds, in some cases thousands of pounds. With that lineup, they blew every other current convention out of the water. If they had done this right, this would have been a huge success and an absolute no-brainer for years to come. They could have been one of those cons that sell out in minutes.

Instead, they let greed and poor organization guide them. They severely underestimated the size of the Stargate fandom. They didn't bother to learn about what the fans wanted and who the guests actually were.

A few things stood out for me:

Health and safety at the venue. No a/c, running heaters (!!) in some rooms, not enough opportunities to get water, way too many people for this size hotel. We are lucky there wasn't a panic or more severe injuries. Crowd control was non existent.

An impossible, ever-changing schedule. You can't put talks back to back, or meet&greets, or photo ops. Everybody knows you will run overtime and then the whole thing collapses. Changes were not communicated. Nobody knew what was going on.

Poorly trained staff. No staff meetings beforehand. Staff had no way to communicate with each other. Seriously, give them radios! Some of them didn't now the names of the guests or in which autograph group they were.

People could not get the things they paid for. Out of all the autographs included in my pass, I only got one, and only because a friend got it for me. [Marion, you're a fucking rockstar] I don't even want to know how many people will be attempting chargebacks on their credit cards in the coming days.

And the most important thing, the one that makes everyone I talked to the angriest: The way they treated the guests was appalling. They are such generous, hard-working people, and BCC shamelessly took advantage of that. Richard Dean Anderson was signing until after 1 am. A 74-year-old man who just wants to make his fans happy.

[BCC are now saying they were told he was a „slow signer“, aka someone who actually takes their time by talking to fans when signing autographs. Oh really? Then why did you continue to sell autographs well into Sunday when it was clear that there was no way he could get through them all in a reasonable time??]

David Blue was setting up his own autograph table. Several Atlantis actors went and got more of their headshots (by taking pictures in the photo room and printing them) because they ran out. Joe Flanigan tried to bring some order to the chaos more than once. He went full John Sheppard in the photo op room and took charge. We are lucky they're such sweet souls and didn't raise hell then and there. Nobody would have blamed them.

Staff were amazing and tried to make the best with what little support they were given. Kathleen, Finn and Nick (with the Stick!) especially, and so many others whose names I sadly didn't get. They worked so hard, never lost their humor, and tried to help as much as they could.

This disaster is entirely on management. It's a failure of leadership and an example of what not to do when you're running an event.

If you want to put on a convention, you need to go to people who have experience and listen to them. You need to attend several cons before even thinking about doing one yourself. And before, during and after, you need to take care of your people. You need to take care of your staff, of your guests, of the fans. You need to adjust the size of the event to the size of the venue, or vice versa. You need to actually be interested in this event beyond the money it will earn you. You need to know when you bit off more than you can chew.

I'm not hoping for a better one next year, because all of us said we won't be back. What I do hope is that hey sincerely apologize to the guests and at least double what money was raised for charity.

#basingstoke comic con #rant #stargate #stargate atlantis

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avatar-anna · 1 year

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young mom or professor !!

It was a busy afternoon at the Styles residence. Hair and makeup teams were running around, style teams were laying out last-minute options in case he or Y/n wished to change their outfit ideas for the night, and obviously, his most important team was hard at work to get him ready.

"Stay still, Daddy!" Collette, his second daughter said, looking up at him with a pout.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try my best," Harry said, nodding for her to continue painting his nails. He peered down at her, eyeing the careful work she was doing. "You're quite good at this, you know."

Collette didn't look up from his hand, but Harry saw her smile, one that was nearly identical to her mother's if it wasn't for the dimples in her cheeks. "Thank you."

Before he could respond, Harry's chin was being tilted up by Simone. "This should make the bags under your eyes go away," she said, placing gel masks just under his eyes.

Harry tried not to frown at the implication that he had bags under his eyes to begin with. He never thought his daughters would be so brutally honest, but they never minced their words, especially when it came to his appearance.

So instead of opening that can of worms, he asked who was helping their mum get ready.

"The twins, but I think it's more pretend," Simone said, combing his eyebrows in place with a little brush.

"I see," he mumbled. "Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to help me look pretty."

In truth, Simone was so excited about Harry going to the Grammys, she wanted to be a part of it in some way, shape, or form. She wouldn't be able to go, as that would stir up a media frenzy. For the first time, though, Harry had considered risking it all just so he could have a Daddy-daughter date tonight. Ultimately, he decided that it was better to keep that secret a secret, though he did have to promise to get Olivia Rodrigo's autograph and bring it home by the end of the night to make up for Simone not going. How he was going to manage that, he had no idea.

Still, it was a big night, for many reasons. Not only was Harry nominated for some of the night's biggest awards, Y/n was also joining him, marking their first public appearance. Ever.

His wife had been nervous, and rightfully so, but Harry wanted her to be there, wanted to spend this night with the people he loved, and there was no one else he loved more than Y/n. Except for his children, obviously.

So Y/n was in a different room getting her hair and makeup done, preparing for a night no one would soon forget while Harry was letting his two oldest children pamper him before he had to get dressed.

"Do you know what your mum is wearing? She refuses to tell me," Harry said. Simone seemed to be done with his face for the time being and was helping Collette paint his nails.

"We're not going to tell you, either!" Collette said.

Harry frowned playfully. "And that is why Julian is my favorite. He would've told me."

The girls giggled before continuing on. When it came time for Harry to start getting dressed in his red carpet outfit—a fun jumpsuit that passed voting from all six of his children (mostly four because Geneva and Natalia couldn't talk yet, but they seemed as excited as they could be)—Simone and Collette watched with wide eyes. The hair and makeup teams, who were all under strict NDAs, were incredibly kind to Harry's daughters and even styled their hair and put a little blush and lip gloss on them. Harry could only be glad that they got to have a small part of this whole experience.

He was ready in no time, and suddenly it was time to go. Harry waited patiently and anxiously downstairs as the time to walk on the red carpet drew nearer. He was nervous about tonight for so many reasons, but all he could think about was what revealing such a well-kept secret would mean for his family.

Had they really thought this through? Did Y/n want to come tonight or was she humoring Harry? Would she be more comfortable watching from a dressing room? Or even here at home? What if something happened to GiGi or Natalia or Maeve—

"Harry?"

All his thoughts came to a halt as his wife appeared in front of him, brows furrowed with concern.

And as he blinked, taking her in for the first time since she disappeared to get ready, the only thought he was capable of thinking was he was pretty sure he'd just fallen in love all over again.

Y/n had secretly gone to a handful of events for years, they'd gone to dates at fancy restaurants, and had attended weddings that required dressing up. But all of those times Y/n had dressed to blend into the background so as not to raise suspicion. Tonight, however...

Tonight Y/n was meant to stand out, was meant to be noticed. She was in a dress of gauzy, white fabric that gathered in ruffles all the way down until the gown hit the floor. The fabric was light enough to see just a hint of skin, but not enough to reveal much, though Harry could identify every curve and dip her body made. She was ethereal, an angel in white, almost like—

"It almost looks like a wedding dress, huh?" Y/n mused, twisting so the gown swished back and forth on the floor. "Don't know if I would've worn this to our wedding, though."

Harry and Y/n never had a big white wedding. They'd snuck out to a courthouse one afternoon while One Direction was touring, with Niall and Louis as their witnesses while Liam distracted everyone at the hotel. It was small and rushed, and the judge definitely thought the couple was much too young to be getting married. They didn't even have rings, as a wedding band on Harry's finger would be completely unacceptable. But none of that mattered as they both recited the vows they prepared and sealed their union with a kiss.

Her jokes did the trick, and Harry's brain began functioning normally once more. He grinned and took her hand so she could spin and show him the whole thing. "The judge definitely would've raised his eyebrows."

Years went by and they never had a vow renewal. Since Harry had bought out his contract with One Direction's management, he'd wanted to have a proper wedding, but there was just never any time. And now that they were six kids in, free time was a pipe dream, though they were the kind of busy he would never be sorry for.

Tonight, though, in this dress, Y/n looked like she could walk down an aisle, and Harry was nearly tempted to run upstairs and grab the velvet box he'd had since he was seventeen years old.

"If you're not ready, I completely understand," he said.

"I'm nervous about tonight," Y/n admitted, and with one look at her face, Harry could see the anxiety written all over it.

They could keep the secret going, he could brave this night with Kid and Jeffrey and it would be great. He would miss Y/n and the rest of his family, but he would manage as he always did.

Y/n shook her head, and Harry's shoulders sagged just the tiniest bit with relief. "I want to be with you tonight. This is a big deal."

"It's nothing—"

"Don't do that," Y/n chided, holding Harry's face in her hands. "Don't minimize what a great achievement just being nominated is."

Y/n knew Harry like no one else. She knew he would try to downplay tonight if it made her worry about him less, but this was his big night. Win or lose, she was immensely proud of him, he had to know that.

"I'm coming, you just have to promise to hold my hand the entire night," she said.

Harry grinned. "What if I win and have to make a big speech?"

She wrapped her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. "Then and only then can you let go. Oh, and for your performance. But that's it."

"I think I can make that work."

Harry leaned in, his nose brushing against Y/n's teasingly until she pressed her lips against his. They were hardly brushing when the sound of footsteps hurtled down the stairs.

"Mommy! Simone says she gets to stay up all night to watch the show and I don't!"

"You're not old enough, Collette!"

"Neither are you!"

"Daddy, don't go," Julian cried, tugging on Harry's pant leg. He gave Y/n a look as they pulled apart to attend to their children. Sweeping Jules into his arms, he gave his only son a kiss on the cheek, which was already sticky with shed tears.

"Don't cry, Julian," he said softly, pushing the boy's thick hair from his face. "We won't be gone long. I promise."

Julian continued to cry, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Harry's neck, and Harry whispered softly into his ear until his son's little heart stopped beating so wildly in his chest. Jules hiccuped as Harry walked over to see that the argument between Maeve and Collette had been settled, and they were now admiring Y/n in her dress.

"I wish I could take you with me, Jules, but I don't think you'd like it very much," Harry said. He tried to set his son down, but his little legs clung to Harry's waist even tighter. "It'll be loud with lots of bright lights and not a chicken nugget in sight. I think it's best you stay home, don't you think?"

Julian nodded, but he was still clinging to Harry, who shot a look of desperation to his wife. Harry loved all of his children dearly, but they were on a tight schedule.

Y/n understood and took Julian into her arms, not at all worried about the couture dress she was wearing. She took him back upstairs where the babysitter was with Geneva and Natalia and Maeve. When she came back down a couple minutes later, Julian was gone.

"Poor thing tired himself out," she explained. Then, to her two oldest children, she said, "The second the last acceptance speech is done, up to bed. Understood?"

Simone and Collette nodded, then rushed forward to hug Y/n and Harry before ushering them out of the house, telling them to say hi to Auntie Lizzo.

As promised, Harry took Y/n's hand as they walked to the car that would take them to the theater that was hosting the Grammys. She looked at him appreciatively, resting her head on his shoulder as the car pulled away from their house.

"I'm proud of you," she said out of the blue. "If I don't get the chance to say it when you win, when you win," she repeated when Harry tried to object. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, and not just as an artist, but as a dad and a husband too. You're one in a million, H, and I'm so happy I get to be a small part of that."

Harry was speechless. There was nothing to say that would express how much he appreciated Y/n, so he settled for a kiss. His hand was steady as he cradled the back of her head, his lips immediately finding the familiar place around her bottom lip. He suddenly wished Y/n's dress didn't have so much fabric so he could have better access to her, but he settled for trailing his hands up and down her arms and kissing all along her jaw and neck and chest until she eventually pulled him up again.

"This is one way to settle nerves," she joked, thumb grazing his jaw.

"Let me know if your nerves need any more settling throughout the night. We can sneak away during commercial breaks."

Y/n shook her head at the look Harry gave her, the same one that landed her pregnant six times. "I'll keep that in mind."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry took a bow at the end of his performance, then straightened. His eyes trailed the room back to where his table was, finding Y/n's gaze instantly. Her hands were clasped together tightly, covering the bright smile on her face.

Looking at her, his heart settled. He'd gotten lost in the heat of the performance, but she always managed to bring him back down to earth.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Before he could think about it, he pressed his fingers to his mouth, then gestured out, blowing a kiss to his wife. Not caring who was watching, Y/n reached up and grabbed the kiss out of the air and placed it on her chest, her eyes crinkling even further as she continued to smile from ear to ear.

"So, Harry, talk to us a little about how it feels to win Album of the Year."

Harry gave his answer, talking about how surprised he was to win and what it meant to him that his music meant so much to people. Y/n thought it was cute how he stumbled over his words, trying to piece together how he felt.

"And how do you plan to celebrate? Can we expect to see you at any after parties tonight?"

"Uh, no. It's back home to the little ones for me," he said, the answer rolling off his tongue before it was too late.

"Little ones?"

"My, um, my cats. I have a few cats that are practically my children. I'll be celebrating with them tonight."

"There's no way in hell anyone is gonna believe that," Y/n muttered to Jeff, who was holding his head in his hands, not unlike Harry had when he won earlier.

"Well, Harry, we wish you all the best!"

"Thank you, I appreciate that," he said before shuffling away from the press room.

#harry styles #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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adreamemporium · 18 days

Note

Hi! Since you saw Ewan at CCXF and outside of it, I wanna ask if you think Ewan loves fan saying hi to him or he only did it to be polite? Also is there anything else you can share about your meeting with Ewan?

I’ve also seen some people on here saying that they think Ewan looked uncomfortable at times at CCXF. Whats your thoughts on that?

Hi, nonnie!

About your last question, I couldn’t see anything because I was behind them so all I could see was their back lol. Also the audio wasn’t great and with all the screaming I couldn’t hear anything. I thought everything was going well because all their managers and their team were behind them and they were smiling. I already saw the interview on YouTube and I think the whole thing was messy and cringe, the questions weren’t that interesting, that guy saying Mexican women would love to keep him in their homes… So as a whole, that was a mess. Minutes later I saw him in the thunder stage and he was relaxed, so I don’t think there was a problem after that. What I think is that he is way more calm when you are talking alone with him and that’s the real Ewan. He does an incredible job on stage, but we shouldn’t get fool, he has a reserved personality.

About the rest of your ask, have in mind that I’m again talking based on what I experienced, I would say he truly loves saying hi to the fans. We have to consider that we are talking about the same guy that takes the time to send little messages to his fans when he receives fan mail.

The first time I saw him I was working and he was doing press, so the two times I talked with him were brief and it was just a kinda random talk lol it was when he told me he needed a hat for the sun. That day I mostly saw him work while I was doing my own.

The second time I met him he recognized me and smiled to me, so I said hi and it was when he made room for me to sit down at his side. We talked for a few minutes (although I felt it was for hours lol) about how different book!Aemond is to the show version and I told him I loved what he and Leo did with the character and they were the reason Aemond was my favorite character cuz when I read the book he wasn’t my fav. He simply smiled and thanked me for what I was saying. I told him I had a fanart and that it would mean the world to me if he could signed it and he took the time to admired it before doing it and see the details.

But I think what I will treasure the most (apart from having one of my Aemond designs autographed) will be when I gave him the dragon egg I made for him. I explained to him that I’m a dragon fan since I was little and that back during got s1 I couldn’t find the dragon eggs to buy them, so I made them. While I was saying all of that he was attentively looking at me and listening, so when I started to taking the egg out of my purse he started to realize what I was gonna give him and had a huge smile when he saw the little green egg and simply excitedly exclaimed “Vhagar!”. I swear he looked like a little kid with a toy, he took it and started to see all the details, asked me how long it took me and then he told me “You’re a legend!” and hugged me. I swear to god I wasn’t expecting it and almost died in that moment. His manager asked me if I wanted a picture and he quickly said yes because he wanted to show the egg, so she kindly took it, we talked for a few more minutes and then he asked me if I was going to be at ccxp, I said yes and he told me he hoped to see me there and then we said goodbye. And that was it. 🥹

I swear to god he is everything the rest of the cast have said he is: the loveliest person ever, a complete angel, super gentle, incredible thoughtful, kind, a fantastic human being… and I have just quoted Elliot Grihault, Harry Collet, Tom Glynn Carney and Fabien Frankel only.

So tl;dr, if you ask me, no, he didn’t do it just to be polite, he truly cares and enjoys saying hi to his fans. He truly listen to what we say and takes him time with us. What it is import here is to ALWAYS respect him, his privacy, his boundaries and not be invasive. He is open to meet us, make sure we aren’t nervous, listen to what we wanna say, tell us that everything’s ok… but let’s not forget that at the end, he is also a human being as any of us and he does has a reserved personality.

PS. BTW, I just wanna add something else. When I was literally admiring my design with his autograph and saying it would have a pretty frame, both, his manager and him, said “aaw” lol 🥹

Here is my design:

#my asks #ewan mitchell

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bizarrelittlemew · 7 months

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Hello, I’ve been unable to watch the NYCC panel but I see everywhere that is was awful and weird?!?! What actually happened ? Could you make a little recap for people like me who didn’t get to see it? Thank you!

I'll try my best ✌️ this is just the impression I got though (and sorry this got long lmao)

it was awkward because they weren't allowed to talk about ofmd, which made the whole thing seem more and more ridiculous as it went on. in addition, they had to do a sort of game where they were asked questions like "who is the most likely to do [x]" and then write a name on a board and reveal it at the same time. this could've been fine for maybe 10 minutes but they had them do it for the whole hour.

the issues with this game were that 1) the questions were very "generic corporate ice breaker questions", 2) they spent a lot of time in silence writing down, and 3) when a question finally did lead to stories or conversation, it was quickly shut down in order to move on to the next boring question and writing in silence.

they could've asked them about non-struck work (Rhys even brought up the books he's written several times and it wasn't followed up on), they could've collected and vetted fan questions beforehand, they could've just let them talk idk, they could've found a more fun game or ditched the boards (one of my fav moments was Rhys saying something like "I have a mic, why do I have to write it down?" honestly this would've made it 25% less boring lmao).

adding to that, there were sound issues meaning that Con and Rhys couldn't hear what was going on a lot of the time. Rhys said it again and again and nothing was done about it.

you could just tell how frustrated they all were and what this panel could have been if not for the shitty studios refusing a fair deal for the actors. I think the cast did what they could, and there were some sweet and funny moments. but it was clear that Rhys was pissed about not being able to talk about what they all wanted to talk about (I felt bad for everyone but especially for him).

they did a whole "ha ha we were all in New Zealand at the same time what a coincidence" thing and Rhys said that (paraphrased) if only they could be paid fairly, they could create something great with all the talent in the room, going off on the studios for a bit. it was honestly a bit of a relief for someone to voice it (to me, it felt like someone had to say something lmao and he did).

in the end they got a question about fantasy worlds. Rhys said he already lived in a fantasy world in his head and it was nice, though this was one of the odder moments. Matt and Nathan basically agreed and said it was all very weird (in different words). Rhys then said fantasy worlds are important because the real world is shit right now and there's no denying it; that in fantasy worlds we can all love each other and use kindness; and it's important to keep creating and believing in them until the real world becomes like that too.

and then he said "goodnight" (= "fuck this shit I'm out"), got up, put on his sunglasses, and started beat-boxing and rapping saying "why can't we talk about the show". their time had run out anyway, he said it had certainly been an experience, that he couldn't hear much of what was going on, and they all thanked the audience and it ended ✌️

anyway this is just my take and I hope SAG-AFTRA get a fair deal soon so the cast can celebrate the show with us like they so clearly want to. I also hope Matthew Maher does more panels after this (it was his first I think!) despite it being such a weird experience because he was great to watch!! anyway they're all happily doing photo ops and autographs now I guess 🤸

(if you want to watch there is a way)

#asks #Anonymous #nycc #nycc23 #ofmd

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alldoll3dup · 4 months

Note

OMG IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG

so anyways, its a velvet x fem!reader, its like the one where they proposed to each other without even knowing. like where velvet planned to propose to fem!reader, not knowing that reader would do the same? I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT ANYMORE IM SORRY IF IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE!!

▐ Hello! Of course I can it will be fun to write this lol 💪

໑୧﹒★﹒Velvet x FEM!Reader - one-shot ᰍ﹒∿

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - You and Velvet were best friends, but you both wanted more than a friendship

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 - Trolls

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Fluff

- Velvet was thoughtful, she didn't want to propose because she thinks it's stupid to talk about her feelings, but if she didn't propose you would never be her girlfriend (and Velvet didn't want that)

- You were also thoughtful, you didn't want to propose because you thought Velvet would humiliate you, Velvet never showed that she liked you in any romantic way

- You and Velvet decided to confess to each other, but neither of you knew it

- Velvet called you to a park without Veneer and of course you accepted you were already thinking in a million ways to declare your love to Velvet

- And Velvet panicking asking her brother for a million tips on how she should act or what she should do

- You two spent hours getting ready, you used the perfume that Velvet praised once and Velvet wore a hairstyle that you said looked beautiful on her

- When the time came you found Velvet waiting for you there and linked her arm with yours she automatically turned to you blushing

"Hey, Y/N, uh, would you like to go on the ferris wheel with me?"

"Of course Vel, I would love it" - you said shyly scratching your head

- However, this peace was short-lived, soon Velvet was surrounded by people asking for photos and autographs and after a long time you finally arrived at the Ferris wheel

"I hate when these people disturb me at important moments" - she said rolling her eyes, entering the cabin with you

- The ferris wheel started to move and when it were at the top you both looked at each other and at the same time said

"Can I tell you something?"

- Immediately they both got nervous, Velvet thinking that you already knew and would dump her and you thought the same thing

"I like you ok? Even if you reject me" - you said quickly, looking away from Velvet, almost crying then she gently holds your face to make you look at her

"You ruined the surprise silly, at least the best part is for me, do you want to be my girlfriend?" - you let out a relieved sigh and respond with a kiss to her

"I think that counts as a yes" - for the first time you met that affectionate side of Velvet and you felt so special, your night was wonderful

- The other day there would be thousands of photos of you two togeter taken by papparazis

▐ I hope y'all enjoyed! I thought it was cute and I literally freaked out inside

▐ Sorry if there are any grammatical errors love you guys ♡

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls velvet #velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #oneshot #velvet x reader #fem reader #headcanon #i love velvet #trolls headcanons #trolls x reader

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lumiconic · 1 year

Text

“ if you’d say you love me ”

✧ some way or another, every member of the global pop sensation 6REEZE has fallen head over heels for you.

✧ kunikuzushi, venti, kazuha, heizou, aether, xiao ; fluff, slight hurt comfort ; idol au ; not proofread

the first to be sucked into your irresistible gaze is kunikuzushi, known as the main dancer kuni to 6REEZE’s devoted fanbase, STORM’S EYE. it’s almost funny, considering how kuni is known for being the sharpest and most angry member of the group, who dismissively flicks his hand at fans pleading for his autograph. somehow, it was always you who was able to see past his thorny exterior to the blazing passion underneath.

as the group’s manager, you know almost everything about each of the boys, from their favorite colors to their most coveted dreams. only kuni refused at first to open up to you, calling it a waste of time because he had more important things to do than team-building. there were some tiny hints of disappointment on your face whenever he opted out of the group hangouts early, but you never forced him into anything, no matter how eager everyone else was.

yet, there was some tiny part of him, buried far beneath, that almost wanted you to make him. to be given an excuse to learn more about you, and to be known as well as you knew the other boys. he never acted on it, and so it’s by complete chance the first time you show having knowledge of him beyond what he’s voluntarily shared.

he was in the rehearsal room, packing up his bag and wiping the sweat off his brow after another long day of practice. while his singing and rapping skills were mediocre – for an idol, of course, which made them still far above average – he had been scouted solely for his skill at dancing and thus had to train much more in that area than any other. while it was his passion, he still found himself exhausted beyond belief at the end of the day.

you opened the door without looking up, talking on the phone to someone about future marketing plans (i’m sorry, but if you want heizou to model that line then you need to take aether too because he doesn’t have enough deals yet). kuni cleared his throat.

your head shot up and your eyes landed on him. “kuni!” you said, sounding surprised and ending the call with a tap of your finger. “oh, do you want this? here – ” you dug in your tote for a moment, then tossed a bottle to him. startled, he threw out his hands and almost fumbled the catch.

“ragnvindr energy?” he read the label out loud. the neon pink coloring on the plastic wrap almost hurt his tired eyes, but he was still able to discern the title. “what is this?”

“isn’t that your favorite brand?” you asked, sounding surprised.

“yeah, but – how would you know that?” he said, the usual bite in his voice gone, replaced by confusion as he stared at the bottle. you tilted your head. “well, you bring it practically every day and keep it in your bag, so,” you shrugged, “i just noticed. that one’s my favorite, so i thought i’d have you try it too. which flavor do you like best?”

there was some strange pulse of feeling through his chest at those words. that casual recognition, the easy way you stated that you had noticed something about him. that you were paying attention. He couldn’t explain why it felt so important. so heady and exhilarating in a way that almost rivaled the feeling of dancing.

“green tea,” he said, without thinking. “the more bitter it is, the better.”

you laughed, and he sucked in a breath. the sound was like – the first rays of light peeking over the horizon in the morning; like rain drumming on leaves in the midst of a storm. like music. so easily, he could be lost in that rhythm the way he gets swept into a song even in just the first few beats of an addictive melody.

“green tea, huh. you aren’t supposed to have that much caffeine, but i saw how hard xiao was pushing you today.” you lifted your shoulders in a what can you do gesture, then pressed your index finger to your lips. “maybe try to drink more water in the future, but for now you definitely deserve this. let’s keep it our secret, okay?”

“o-okay,” kuni stumbled over the word, surprise still freezing his wide-eyed expression in place, hating the choked breath lingering in his throat as you smiled back at him. a blush rose to his face at the sight, coloring the apples of his cheeks bright red. “thanks.”

“of course! once this next m/v comes out, you’ll have more room to breathe,” you said reassuringly. “just hold out til then.” he nodded, not trusting himself to speak without his voice cracking embarrassingly. what is this? [name] of all people, causing this reaction? get yourself together! they’re just your damn manager, not your –

he silenced his inner thought before it could finish that humiliating sentence.

“well, see you later,” you said, waving goodbye and leaving the room as you tugged your phone out of your bag, already returning to your itinerary of plans to make. there was silence for a long moment, his eyes still focused sightlessly towards the door. kuni looked at the bottle in his hand, turning it over multiple times before unscrewing the cap, lifting it up, and dumping the whole thing over his head.

he stood there for a moment, the smell of artificial sunsettia flavoring soaking through his hair and cool, sticky juice dripping down his cheeks, soaking into his long sleeved exercise shirt, and pooling at his feet, an speechlessly angry and dumbfounded expression on his face. the heat in his cheeks refused to dissipate. then he took a deep breath in, hoisted his bag over his shoulders, and headed for the showers.

the second person to be enchanted by you is venti, the main singer, with a pleasant, boyish voice that can go unexpectedly deep and serious. considered immature and childish, he’s also the most rebellious of the group, in a way; the one who would disappear for hours at exactly the wrong times, fetching expensive gifts for the other members and interrupting meetings with the company heads to interject his own opinions on music and production.

this was yet another day that he was spending doing the opposite of what he was meant to; visiting a local café, one of his personal favorites because of their cutely decorated cakes and lattes, wearing thick black sunglasses and a face mask.

currently, he was hurrying away from the café, holding a bag with a small box of petit fours and a caramel-apple flavored special edition coffee, trying to lay out his plans for the rest of the day. i just need to get out of here, then i’ll get right back to the company and start practicing again. it’ll only be about ten minutes to go straight home, it shouldn’t take that long…

“oh my god! is that venti?! like, from 6REEZE?!”

… damn it.

“can i please get a photo? i love 6REEZE, i know all your songs! i have, like, every single photocard released since you debuted!” the nervous babble of the girl who spotted him was admittedly somewhat flattering. “h-hey, sure, a photo’s fine!” venti said, a dazzling smile leaping to his face as he bent slightly to make a peace sign at the camera. the girl clutched her phone in both hands as she took the photo, like it was a priceless item of some kind.

“oh, me too, please! you’re my favorite!” begged her friend, bouncing excitedly; her hysterical voice reached a new pitch as venti did finger hearts in her photo. “hey, what’s going on over there?” “what, is he some kind of celebrity?” voices began to bubble through the crowd at the noise, and soon enough, there was an entire group of people shoving up against him, asking for pictures and autographs and asking questions that he could barely hear.

panic was starting to burn in his chest, flustered words of hey, excuse me, i’ve really got to go spilling from his lips, with no end in sight to the mayhem. then, he spotted a familiar figure; you, hand shielding your eyes from the sun, peering out over the crosswalk for, presumably, him. your gaze lit on the commotion, and then on him. your jaw dropped slightly in surprise at the uproar being caused simply by his presence.

he made eye contact with you through the crowd, panic sparking in his eyes, an unmistakable help me forming on his lips. there was annoyance on your face, and for a second he thought you were going to leave, but instead you opened your mouth as wide as it would go and shouted, “HEY! IS THAT CHILDE FROM DCKZ?” pointing – somewhat unkindly – at a random passerby, a tall boy with bright ginger hair.

screams rose from the crowd, the unique sound of teenagers seeing their favorite, most handsome celebrity crush, and in the following roar of sound as the poor boy was swarmed without warning, venti was able to slip away, flicking his sunglasses back down onto his face.

you met him in the center of the crosswalk, quickly starting to walk again. you chided him gently, smacking his arm with the back of your hand at his impulse to suddenly disappear, and he apologized, only sort of meaning it.

“part of me is kinda annoyed that someone like childe would get more attention than me,” venti remarked wryly, hooking his mask with one finger and pulling it back over his face, careful to tuck his two toned braids into the back of his hoodie. “with his one-note singing, he shouldn’t have half the audience i do.”

“sure, but don’t worry, that won’t last for long,” you said, your eyes sparkling with determination as you strode confidently through the streets; venti’s slightly shorter legs scrambled to keep up with your quick, assertive pace. “you’ll be a superstar someday. i’ve always been sure of it.”

there was a sudden, strange feeling of a lump in his throat; his green eyes flickered to your back, the 6REEZE tour hoodie that you were wearing and its list of sold out dates written down the smooth, high quality fabric, and strange whispers of memory fluttered into his mind. a thousand days spent practicing, the moments right before rising onto the stage, his heart pounding so hard he could barely think and sick nervousness boiling in his stomach, rendering him almost unable to speak. and you, of course, holding out a water bottle, a sheet of lyrics, a helping hand, as always.

his breath caught and a frantic whirl of thoughts spilled into his mind. the feeling that there’s something he was always overlooking before, something obvious that he never noticed even though it was right in front of his face, like he was missing something crucial, something so important that now that he had noticed its absence it was like a puzzle piece had been cut out of his still beating heart.

wind blew past his face, and time seemed to slow down in the next second; you turned, a smile flitting to your lips and the words “hey, go a bit faster!” falling into the air as your hand flashed out, connecting the space between you, and grabbed his wrist. in that moment, there was no other way to describe you than… angelic, with golden sunshine drenching your face, your fingers cool against his skin, and he struggled, suddenly, to take air into his lungs.

“anyway, what did you leave for?” you asked, abruptly breaking the spell. venti shook his head, disoriented. “w… what? oh – i,” he held up his paper bag sheepishly. “i wanted to get a coffee.”

“oh? from where?”

“just this café i like,” he said, almost embarrassed of the answer. “well, can i try something?” you asked. he fumbled in the bag for a moment before taking out a small pastry, a layered cube of strawberry shortcake. you popped it into your mouth and chewed for a moment, and he found himself holding his breath with the hope that you would like it.

“wow, that’s really good,” you said with surprise. “can i come with you next time?”

there was no excuse for the shot of adrenaline that rushed through him at the innocent question, and he was so thankful that you weren’t facing him as a giddy smile crossed his face. “sure thing!” he said, brightening, and quickened once more to continue in pace with you.

the third person to melt into your fascinating mind is kaedehara kazuha, the songwriter of the group and main rapper; a fan favorite for his calm and relaxing exterior that belies a fierier soul underneath. it helped, of course, that he wrote extremely popular and romantic songs. you had a strong friendship with him, as he was the member you had known the longest, practically since he was a trainee and you were both much younger.

right now, he was laying on the floor of your apartment and listening to a demo track of a new song, already planning the words to the sweet, delicate piano melody, while you sat on the couch scribbling in a spiral bound notebook, eyebrows knit in a concentrated expression. you heaved a sigh, ripping out a sheet of paper and crumpling it into a ball before tossing it on the floor frustratedly. kazuha paused the music. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m just – trying to figure this out,” you sighed. “the words just won’t come to me.”

“what are you writing?”

“… poetry,” you said begrudgingly. when he laughed, hiding the surprised and excited thump his heart made when he heard that word, and then the following shock at those emotions, you threw a pillow at him. “stop it! you write this kind of thing too!”

“yes, but i get paid to do it,” he pointed out, refraining to mention that it was also his main pastime outside of his idol duties. “can i see it?” you shook your head instantly, and his lips tugged downwards into a frown. so, [name] writes poetry. what a coincidence. his eyes glittered, fixing his unhappy look on you.

you closed your notebook and gave him a big smile, slightly pained in a way he could only recognize due to your years of friendship. “really, it’s just a hobby. it’s about time for dinner anyways. shall i start making something?”

“no, show me,” he requested, tilting his head, dark red eyes locked onto yours. “please?” he wanted to see them so badly, a hint of desperation seeped into his voice. he almost cringed at that sound. but why was he so curious? of course, he inexplicably loved the idea that you had one of the same hobbies as him. composing poetry and songs? it was as if you were made to be together.

he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, and tasted salt on his tongue for a second, the pain jolting him back into his right mind. partners, of course, is what he meant. friends. nothing more than that. how could he be having such stupid thoughts about you, his oldest friend?

your voice drew him into reality again. “okay, fine, just don’t judge me. it’s… really dumb,” you admitted, closing your eyes and cracking open the spine of the notebook. kazuha ran his fingertips over the paper, ridged with line after line of your cramped handwriting in thick ink. as he took in the contents of the pages, his eyes widened. this is…

“a love poem?” he said aloud. you squeezed your eyes shut as he started to read the words halfway down the page. “… lost to me like dandelion fluff / i grasp for another handful / another breath, wishing for you cupped in my hands.” he rocked backwards, clapping his hand over his mouth not soon enough to muffle the laughter.

your cheeks colored and you snatched the notebook back. “ugh, kazuha! get out of here! i didn’t even finish it yet!”

“no, no! i’m not laughing at you!” he said, though he was a bit. such a tacky way of words, and yet… “it’s just so sentimental, i never would have expected this from you. it’s, sort of sweet.”

“well, you never know,” you said, placated slightly by his words. “and anyway, i’d never show it to anyone but you. it’s just for fun.”

you’d never show it to anyone but me? logically, he knew there were a thousand reasons for you to say that, ranging from him being another poet, to him being your close friend. and yet, he latched onto the one he wanted the most.

“who’s it for?” he asked, as casually as he could, as calmly and slowly as he could. as if there was no meaning behind that question at all. as if the idea that such a poem could maybe, possibly be for him didn’t make his heart explode into fireworks of joy, without him even knowing why. no, not quite; of course, he knew why. his job was writing love songs, anyway. he had just never thought that of all people, it would be you who caused these feelings he’d sang about a thousand times yet never experienced.

“i’m not telling,” you said, sticking your tongue out childishly before looking embarrassed. his heart plummeted into his stomach. even though it was an answer to be expected. he couldn’t explain this crushing disappointment at your refusal to speak. “w-well, anyway… why don’t we go get something to eat now?”

it was unmistakably an escape from a conversation you didn’t want to continue. yet, kazuha wanted to ask you to wait, so he could see another poem of yours. even if it led to heartache, he wanted to know so badly that it almost hurt. the possibility of you writing something like that for him was something he wanted more than anything in that instant. and yet…

more than that, he wanted you to be comfortable around him. that was truly what he wanted most. so… “okay, sure,” he obliged, and you set down your precious notebook as the two of you stood to leave, him casting one more glance towards it and wondering after its tantalizing contents.

as you both stood in the elevator, waiting for its descent to the bottom floor, he turned to you. “hey, what was the name of that poem again?”

“dandelions,” you said, another embarrassed flush tinting the tips of your ears. “it’s silly, but— ”

“no, it isn’t. dandelions,” he repeated, the word tingling on his tongue. it felt like he was on the verge of something new, somehow, that familiar warm, sparking feeling he always got right before an idea for a brand new project. “i like it.”

the next single is soon released, titled wishes in the breeze, a heartfelt ode laced with sugary-sweet declarations of love for an unknown person. you find a copy of the tape– its cover plastered with an image of the boys sitting together with their backs to the camera, kazuha in the middle, one eye showing as he turns his head– outside your apartment door; in the liner notes of the tape are shreds of a poem in red ink.

the third to fall prey to your beauty is shikanoin heizou, the main visual and most outgoing, charismatic member of 6REEZE. of course, he’s quite talented as the other members, but his true strength is in his magnetic personality that draws in new fans almost every day. he always knows just what to say, a perfect comeback locked and loaded on his tongue and ready to burst no matter what the situation is.

after wishes in the breeze won ‘best new pop song’ at a prestigious teyvat awards event, you and 6REEZE were invited to a celebration dinner with many other famous artists. heizou was standing with the other members and holding small talk with a punk-pop girl band trio that recently released an album that swept the awards, golden apple.

“heya, [name] just came in,” the shortest girl said, tilting her head towards the entrance. “ain’t that ya manager, heizou?” he smiled instantly, and agreed, “ah, yes!” with a gleeful look on his face. “i wasn’t sure they were going to show up, they don’t usually like big crowds, but i guess this was too important of an opportunity to pass up.”

he swiveled to greet you, hand already raising in a wave, and as his gaze landed on you, the world seemed to stop turning for a moment, the words falling out of his mouth and disappearing.

highlighted underneath the dancing lights, there you were; in a forest green tuxedo, the silken material of your sleeves almost glowing as you rubbed the back of your neck nervously. your hair was styled in such a way that you looked like royalty, sweeping over your shoulders, and when you turned your head slightly and the bright color of your eyes was caught in the glimmer from the spotlights above, he could just feel his heart in his throat and the bittersweet taste of longing.

heizou was unable to speak for a few seconds, almost unable to breathe. it was lucky for him that kazuha caught sight of you and waved you over, because he couldn’t get a single syllable out, let alone a greeting. you crossed the room to the small group.

“how fancy,” kuni scoffed, sharp nose turned up as he jutted out his chin. “no wonder it took you so long to get here, primping like this.”

you pulled at your sharp collar. “it’s a little stifling,” you said with just a hint of sweat to betray your flustered interior underneath your calm expression. “i don’t usually get dressed up like this, but… it’s for such a special occasion, and it’s a little fun too – ”

“it looks amazing, [name]!” venti exclaimed, stars in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and pumped it up and down. “seriously, the best! you didn’t have to go so all out for us, we would have been happy with just a fancy sash or something,” he laughed. you accepted his handshake without a change of expression, as the other boys oohed and aahed dutifully.

“i mean, come on! this is so fancy, i’m shocked to see [name] all dressed up and looking sharp! i wish we could see you like this more often,” venti continued, turning to look at heizou with a smile. “right?”

the question was surely meant innocently, as a query for the other contender for flirtiest member. it was most likely that venti had expected only a oh yes, it’s quite stunning, but not as stunning as [name]’s cute face by itself. but heizou had no smart remark, instead offering only a “yeah, it’s fine,” with a flat, unchanging face, before turning on his heel and practically running for the exit. “hey!” venti said, surprised, as if trying to call him back, but it was no use; the red-head boy was already out of earshot in a matter of seconds.

“ah… ? heizou?” you said, taken aback as you watched heizou’s rapidly retreating frame. “did i… do something wrong?” a strange sadness seemed to fill your chest, and your hand fell away to rest limply by your side.

pushing through the double doors, heizou finally managed to escape. he ducked around a corner, hunching over and staring at the floor, his breathing fast with exertion and agitation. “that’s… just not fair,” he mumbled into his hand, palm pressed to his mouth and face burning red. “to suddenly show up in something like that? it’s practically playing dirty… ”

he sunk to the floor, getting dust on the legs of his suit, but he barely noticed, burying his face in his hands with only thoughts of you rushing through his head. he had no doubt the others were wondering after him, but there was no chance he could go back in his current state, barely able to think straight.

“man, [name]… you really are dreamy.”

though the mood of the celebration was dampened by heizou’s partial absence and your dejection, you managed to go to bed that night with a smile on your face due to the fun atmosphere and the others making a special effort to cheer you up. the next time you saw heizou, he presented you with a gift box tied in an intricate knot with a silk ribbon. inside, was a less formal version of that outfit, in a popular style that you could wear out on the street.

“because you said you thought it was fun,” he says, tucking his hands behind his back to conceal their shaking. “i thought you would like something like this. to wear whenever you want. but if it’s too much, or silly, i – ”

“i love it, heizou,” you say firmly, cutting him off. “thank you.” when you hesitantly pulled him into a hug, his arms came up automatically to wrap around your back, his breathing almost stopping with an nervous thrill that traveled up his spine. he wondered for a second if you could feel his heartbeat and how fast it was pounding inside his chest, before pushing the thought aside and letting himself just feel the warmth of your arms for that short moment.

the fifth person captivated by your kindness is aether, the youngest member and the least experienced, with no solid lead position. every person in 6REEZE has their fair share of fans, but he had a noticeable lack of support compared to the others; the company that managed the group, SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT, just seemed to have it out for him, barely giving him any solos or spending any time marketing him.

of course, no one ever voiced their concerns at his treatment aloud, not when he seemed so truly optimistic. nobody wanted to be the person to make that grin disappear. spending all day, every day practicing, waving the others off when they asked him to take a break, every moment was dedicated to the betterment of his idol persona, never letting that golden smile drop from his face.

it felt like it was a thousand degrees on the set of their next m/v, yet aether was still practicing, the sound of their upcoming release today and tomorrow blaring through his ears. it was the only song he had heard in at least a week, but he couldn’t take a break for even a second if he wanted to remember the whole thing without one mistake.

when his twenty-third(? he lost count around number fifteen) runthrough of the song finally finished, leaving him kneeling on the floor, he shut off the music. in the silence of the empty room, there was some kind of pounding still echoing in his head, making it hard for him to think straight. as he rose to his feet, his vision blacked out for a moment.

“aether, you’re still here?” said a sudden voice, laced with surprise. he looked up to find you, apparently having just entered and in the midst of rearranging a couple of set pieces. as your gaze traveled over him, your eyes widened slightly. “are you okay? you look so pale.”

“yeah, ‘m fine, just – just tired,” he mumbled, swaying on his feet slightly. your worried expression swam before his eyes. “is it hot in here, or… ?” were his last words before he stumbled and fell, the ground rushing up to meet him faster than he could react with his exhausted, nonresponsive limbs, eyes closing and unable to think properly.

huh… ?

the world pulsed around him in blinking black dots. somehow, he hadn’t hit the ground yet. it felt wrong that he would still be falling; he forced his eyes open with great struggle, and found that you had caught him. how strange… why couldn’t i move… ?

you gently lowered yourself to the floor, allowing him to rest his head against your leg. “aether,” you said, your voice pained and worried, “how hard have you been practicing? have you taken any breaks today?”

“no, i was trying to learn the choreography without – ” the words caught in his dry throat, breath scraping painfully, and you looked even more worried as he coughed. “without pausing at all.”

a tch sound escaped your lips, expression more concerned than he’d ever seen it before. “you must be so dehydrated.” you bit your lip. “aether, you know you’re just hurting yourself this way. this level of work… it’ll hinder your progress, rather than help it.”

despite the discouraging nature of your words, it was gratitude for that acknowledgement, and some thick, warm emotion that brought a strange moisture to aether’s eyes. he tried to rub at his eyes, but his hand was shaking too hard. “no, i have to do this.”

“why?” you demanded.

he barely knew how to put it into words. “i’m just… the weak link,” he said, tears pricking for a moment before he blinked them away, one hand resting on his temples and shielding his face from your concerned gaze. “i’m not good at anything, so i have to practice and practice to make up for – ”

“you’re not the weak link, aether,” you said firmly, your voice so kind and earnest that it almost brought tears to his eyes yet again. “you’re like – the glue, you can do everything perfectly well. there’s nothing wrong with not having a specialty. you work so hard, and always go out of your way to support everyone. don’t let me hear you talking like that, okay?”

“but – ” he tried to protest, then almost melted underneath the force of your angry, anxious eyes. even with the embarrassment of being in this situation, there was some foreign ember of warmth in his chest that burned hotter with every word from you. he couldn’t explain it, but it was like hearing those things from you was rejuvenating somehow; soaking into his body and leaving him feeling looser, calmer in its wake. he didn’t know if it was because it was you specifically, and he was almost afraid to think about it.

“no buts!” you snapped. “i refuse to listen to you thinking this way about yourself. you’re incredibly capable and strong, and don’t you dare bottle this up and work yourself to the point of passing out again. i know you can do it, without punishing yourself for no reason. it’ll be okay.”

“… okay,” he nodded. you pressed your hand against his forehead and winced. “you better not be getting sick. now go home and rest up. i don’t want to see you here again until tomorrow afternoon, got it?”

you walked him to the exit, making sure he drank almost the entire contents of his water bottle, with orders to go to sleep extra early. yet, even with those directions, he tossed and turned almost all night, still feeling the force of your laser-hot gaze every time he closed his eyes.

the day filming started, there was no doubt in him that he could nail the entire choreography. even xiao commented on his movements seeming more sharp than usual, his voice more fluid as well. of course, there was a reason for that, but he would never have voiced it aloud that he wanted just one more second of your eyes on him. just one more word of praise that felt so much more real coming from you than anyone else.

there was a six-second focus on him for the second chorus, and he poured all of his saved-up energy into that moment. “i want you here, i want you with me in my arms,” he sang, throwing his entire body into the next twirling movement, and pointed straight at the camera with the unfaltering wish that you would see and know he was speaking to you. “you’re my love, the one i’m wishing for, today, tomorrow, forever!”

the sixth member of 6REEZE to love you is xiao, the center and leader of the group. though STORM’S EYE has no shortage of love for him due to his mesmerizing voice and mature good looks, he is the least social of the boys, known as ‘ice prince’ because he’s so aloof and cool at fan events. there is no one in public knowledge that he chooses to let his guard down around; even in vlogs, he barely socializes and keeps to himself, practicing or listening to music on bulky headphones.

SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT works mainly out of an enormous compound filled with training rooms and facilities for all of their groups and other productions. the residence reserved for 6REEZE is attached to it. technically, it could be shared by the group, but the only people who really live there are venti and xiao, and venti is almost always out on other business (or so he claims) anyway.

the roof of the apartment has an amazing view of the entire city and the sky. it’s the perfect place to go when a break and fresh air is needed, meaning xiao can almost always be found there. and now, after an incident in which a very important standalone project where he was meant to collaborate with a girl group has been cancelled due to strong pushback from fans, he’s vanished, and you know exactly where he’s gone.

watching the door still swinging shut from his sudden exit, president miko clicked her tongue carelessly. “ah, so immature. do you remember when we were young enough to be able to throw tantrums whenever things went awry, ei, dearest?” she tilted her head at the purple haired woman, who sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “we could secure another collaboration, but apparently not with any girl group. perhaps xing/yun or LUPICAL… ?” she mused. “could someone please go after him?”

“i can – ” kuni volunteered, already raising from his seat, before you rocketed to your feet, pushing your chair in. “i’m on it! please email me your consensus later!” the other boys watched, taken aback, as you gave a hasty bow and practically sprinted out.

you found him on the roof, of course, leaning over the balcony with a stony line to his jaw. you approached, and he raised his hand without greeting. “what happened back there?” you asked tentatively.

“how can they take away an opportunity so selfishly?” he spat. you weren’t sure whether he was talking about the fans or SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT, but nodded anyway. as the leader, he was naturally under the most stress, and when he got into a bad mood there was nothing to do but wait it out.

“i don’t know if i can do this anymore,” he said, feeling the smallest crack in his voice and dragging a hand down his face. “we’re always being watched, always having to obey stupid rules that don’t even make sense! this was an important collaboration, i’m not a commodity that will lower in value if i work with a girl! if our fans can’t handle us acting like normal people, they aren’t even our fans, are they?”

“i know,” you said, trying to soothe him, placing a hand on his arm only for it to be shaken off. he glared out at the city for a moment, eyes focused above the horizon. “it’s just not fair,” you continued. “but xiao, there are alternatives – ”

“i don’t want alternatives,” he interrupted, “i’m not sure if i even want to be an idol sometimes. all these rules are too much.” he turned and met your eyes. “and you know the worst one of all.”

“of course i do.” you reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “but are you serious about not wanting to be an idol? because, if you ever chose to leave the company, i… can also leave.”

“you can’t put your career in jeopardy just for this.” he gave a frustrated huff. “this stupid company is just so stifling. i didn’t think being an idol would be like this when i first signed up.”

“well, that’s why i’m here, right?” you offered. “to make your life easier. my career isn’t as important, so as your manager, i could – ”

“you’re more than my manager.” his tone was gentler, the earlier roughness somehow melting away, and the words were quiet enough that nobody could possibly hear, meant only for you as he tilted his head, golden eyes finding yours. “you know that.”

“xiao.”

“i won’t let you endanger your own job prospects if i leave.”

you stared at each other for a moment. the wind stirred your hair around your face, framing it in the most beautiful way. his heart caught in his throat. the painful look of uncertainty mixed with determination that you wore was sure to be mirrored on his own face.

“i would never stay here, without you,” you said finally, your voice tight. “i’ll go wherever you go.”

he opened his mouth, unable to form words as a response to this, and you looked at him. there was nothing in your eyes but earnestness, and he thought for the millionth time how heart-stoppingly beautiful you were. he cupped your face with both hands, and there you were in silence for a long second, the cotton candy sunset gleaming down onto you.

“[name],” was the word that finally escaped his lips, taking in your sweet scent that enveloped you like an angel’s aura. you wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring xiao in the quietest voice, a secret that wreathed through the air, like smoke curling into a calm breeze. “i love you.”

you kissed him, then; and when your lips met, he felt his worries melt away, and the overwhelming thought that he couldn’t care less if the whole world knew about your relationship; it was like he could feel everything, like he was frozen and time only started moving again when you were together. eternity could pass in a heartbeat and he would never know, not when he was holding you.

whether 6REEZE was together or not, whether he stayed an idol, or the trifling problems of his everyday life – nothing like that seemed to matter when he was with you. it felt inconsequential. no matter what the company wanted from him, he could do it; as long as he could continue to kiss you like this, he would do anything in the world.

#<3.writing #try to guess what order these were written in lol #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi imagines #venti x reader #venti imagines #heizou x reader #heizou imagines #kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #aether x reader #aether imagines #xiao x reader #xiao imagines

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