#sunset rooftop tour

[sherrylephotography]

My photography @sherrylephotography

May 2023

The Giralda is the bell tower of the Cathedral of Seville

When we got done with the rooftop tour it was night. Nice being able to see it in the golden hour and at night when it is light up.

#original photography on tumblr #Giralda bell tower #seville #seville cathedral #travel #spain #sunset rooftop tour #night photography #gimp #spain vacation

[mahgnolias]

Camille Witt

#paris #paris mon amour #parisian #parisian aesthetic #tour eiffel #parisian rooftops #travel photography #travel inspiration #travelblr #beautifuldestinations #sunset #yuploads

[dixt]

view from hôtel le meurice in paris, france ⋅ ph. ana linares

#view #vista #hotel #hotel le meurice #paris #france #europe #travel #luxury #glamour #sunset #sky #city #cityscape #eiffel tower #Tour Eiffel #flower #flowers #nature #rooftop #detail #details #photo #photograph #photography #beauty #aesthetic #france travel #france photography #inspo

[aphrogeneias]

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x manager's daughter!reader

summary: eddie has hit rock bottom. it's been a long time coming. there's only one person who can help him, but he hasn't thought of her in a long time.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: mentions of drinking and drugs (licit and illicit), and issues with the excess of both. brief mention of a small injury.

series masterlist / taglist is open!

The first thing Eddie ever noticed about you was your laugh. It was your most striking feature.

It commanded a room. It said everything there was to say about you. Loud, unabashed, not scared to call attention. The kind of laughter that makes you throw your head back, the kind that makes everything funnier. Impossible to miss.

He heard it, clear as a bell, across the hall from your father’s office, the first time he walked through the halls of that office building, shoulder to shoulder with his friends and bandmates, ready to sign Corroded Coffin’s first ever major deal.

A lot of firsts in one day. Too many life changing circumstances. The first fallen domino in a long, crumbling chain.

He can still see it all. The outdated, 1970s wallpaper and carpet, creams and oranges and swirls. The tour posters and platinum records littering the walls. The smell of cigarettes and hardwood floor wax coming from his future manager’s office as they went in. Into the lion’s den, wide eyed boys with hands that trembled too much for a confident handshake.

The girl sitting on top of the big office table, laughing at her father’s jokes. He couldn't hear what he told you just before they came in, but it seemed like an intimate moment. Father and daughter, their own world.

That laughter, though. It caught him by surprise. It shook the entire room. She barely spared them a glance as they were ushered in, and climbed down with a kind of feline grace. Her hair bounced behind her as she walked away, hurriedly blowing a kiss back at the man behind the desk.

Expensive perfume, the glint of golden jewelry on her skin, the sway of her hips just before the door closed behind her. His eyes struggled with tearing themselves off the door that hid her from him.

The first time he saw you. You, you, you.

Eddie Munson had never met anyone like you. He wasn't sure he ever would — and he was right, after all.

CHATEAU MARMONT HOTEL, LOS ANGELES, 1990

The sound of the telephone wakes him up.

He doesn’t know when he’s gone to bed, has no memory of it, but he can feel the toll last night took on his body. His tired body drags itself across the mattress, and the first thing Eddie notices is that he’s naked. The second is that the phone is still ringing.

Reaching out, his face hits the pillow once more, smushing his cheek against it as he grabs the receiver and pulls it to his ear. “Munson residence. Edwin speaking.”

“Where the fuck were you, man?”

The voice on the other side of the line sounds like Jeff, but Eddie’s never heard him quite like this. On the verge of tears, but maybe his still drunk brain is playing tricks on him. He doesn’t need to look around to know that the room is a mess. There’s a sheet on the floor, and a bottle of booze on his field of vision, and another at the side table next to the phone. Both empty.

He’s just glad he didn’t wake up to someone next to him in bed.

“What do you mean, where were you? At the hotel, I think. You were here too.”

“Last night, Eddie. We waited for you. Where were you? We thought you were dead.”

Last night. He didn’t remember last night. A rooftop, a pool, a sunset. Too many bottles, too many pills. A girl putting something on his tongue while she sat on his lap, and shutting his jaw closed with a delicate hand. Tripping on lounge chairs, falling on the pool. Blood on his knees. Someone dragging him up and into the elevator.

“What day is it?” He mumbles.

A record label party in their honor, to follow the success of their fourth album. Followed by a… concert.

A concert.

All that comes from the other side of the line is a drawn out sigh. “They’re sending someone to go get you. I hope you get your shit together until then.”

Then, it goes silent.

The concert.

Stumbling on himself, Eddie tries to stand up, and falls. The memory of his skinned knees comes as quickly as the pain does, and he notices they’re bare, still bleeding a little. He finds his underwear on the floor, next to the rest of his clothes, and slips them on as he moves towards the door, propping himself up on the wall.

He yanks the door open, and sprints through the hall as best as he can, catching the attention of one of the maids, who he promptly stops in front of, suddenly much too aware of his own nakedness. She freezes, trying to keep her eyes on his face.

“What day is it?”

A lump grows on his throat. His own voice sounds foreign, like it’s coming from someplace else.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What day is it? Today, what’s the date?”

“It’s the 17th. August 17.”

All he can do is nod, and make his back to his room as if the world hadn’t just fallen from his feet.

A day too late.

THE RAINBOW BAR & GRILL, SUNSET BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES, SUMMER 1987

“Pinch me.”

There had been plenty of “pinch me” moments in those last few weeks. Eddie wasn't sure what Gareth meant, though, as he sat straighter against the cushion of their booth.

It was dark inside, and every surface gleamed red. From the cherry red booths to the bottles on the bar shelves, the dark wood on the walls, the chandeliers. He couldn't tell most people's faces, and they'd probably wanted it that way.

The line to get inside was turning the corner, the people there having a party within themselves, under the lights of Sunset Boulevard. It was loud, and bright, everywhere they went. Eddie thrived around it all.

He'd never felt more alive in his twenty-one years than in the months he had spent here.

The younger boy scooted closer to him, a glass of something colorful in hand. Courtesy of one of the girls whose booth he'd been sitting on until now, surely. Not he'd blame him, he'd lost count of the glasses he had himself, feeling light in his seat.

“Fucking”, the drummer hit him in the arm, pupils taking over the blue in his eyes, “pinch me, man!”

“What the fuck for?” He laughed at his friend’s tone.

“Do you see that?”

Gareth pointed forward to a booth a couple of tables from them. It was full, with mostly women, their teased up hair and flashy clothes demanding all the attention. As his friend pointed out, some of them looked over to them, waving with delicate fingers. Eddie waved back, throwing in a wink for good measure.

He'd easily feel intimidated with those eyes on him, but the alcohol in his body threw those inhibitions away.

“Those girls,” Gareth continued, “those beautiful girls, invited us to a private party at their apartment.”

Eddie nodded along while Gareth emphasized the words private and apartment. As if their intentions weren't obvious from the beginning of the night. He could see Grant on his seat, soaking up the attention from a blonde girl with her hand on his shoulder, and Jeff standing to the side, deep in conversation with a guy in a similar black leather jacket.

From afar, none of it looked real.

If he was being honest, he never thought he'd be living his father’s life this soon — or ever. Eddie wondered about it all the time. What was Al Munson doing when his mother was reading him to sleep back in Nashville, or later, when his uncle was working the late night shift to get both of them by.

The fame, the contacts, the booze, the money. The women. The more he learned, the less he knew.

All Eddie knew was that he promised himself he'd never turn out like his old man, a promise he'd made himself a long time ago, long before he landed in the City of Angels, but seeing what he'd seen in the small amount of time he'd spent there, he wondered if that was really possible.

Corruption seemed tempting, inevitable even, amongst the red and maroons of The Rainbow. Demons, sirens, and the small town boys drawn to them. Hell itself, in disguise.

“And,” Gareth continued, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, grinning at him, “they asked me to call you over.”

Just as he thought. Tempting. Matching his friend’s grin, Eddie reached over to his arm and pinched it, hard. Gareth’s subsequent yelp was dulled by the loud music and chatting, and Eddie only grinned harder when the boy went for him.

They wrestled for a bit until the drummer pulled him from his seat and up, teasing him, “C’mon, man. You need to get laid”.

“You need to get laid! You're the one who's been begging for that secretary’s number. What’s her name again? J-”

He stopped on his tracks, pulling Gareth with him by his t-shirt.

While he was talking and his eyes were running across the bar, unable to pay attention to just one thing at once, he saw a familiar sitting in a booth at the other side of the room. A girl near his age, a familiar face.

She was sitting facing his way, beside a guy who had his arm around her shoulder. He looked slightly out of place in his neat black sweater and Ray-Ban glasses pushing his hair back. They looked expensive, the pair of them. Untouchable, in their own bubble.

They were talking to a girl who had her back to him, all Eddie could see was the back of her head, a blonde bob shaking as she gestured with her hands, wrapped in white lace gloves and gleaming silver rings.

The girl laughed, throwing her head back and into her friend’s — boyfriend’s? — shoulder and, in that moment, he knew exactly who she was.

Eddie’s vision tunneled, and he could hear Gareth beside him, whining for him to hurry up. He pushed his friend away, making a sign for him to go on without him.

Gareth rolled his eyes, mumbling something he did not understand — he might have told him he'd come later, but Eddie was too busy with his eyes on your table to decipher what came out of his own mouth.

As he approached with unsure steps, the sudden confidence that overtook him only lasting half of the way, until he saw your male friend — he wasn't about to think of him as your boyfriend, not yet, he needed to have some hope — and the girl stand.

He watched as the guy dragged his hand from your shoulder, to your elbow, and finally held your hand in his, leaving a kiss there before accompanying his other friend to the bar. Something burned and wilted inside of him, an ugly feeling he couldn't quite place.

That's my moment, Eddie thought, as he did before every single impulsive decision he ever took — and there wasn't a shortage of them.

His worn down boots, which in hindsight might once have been Wayne’s, carried him to your table. Your borderline bored stare made you even prettier from up close, as he tried to open his mouth and figure out what to say.

Instead, he could just watch as you drowned back the rest of your drink, and reached into your purse to light a cigarette. “What are you looking at?”, you asked, without looking at him yet.

His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, before gathering himself. “You're Ace’s daughter, aren't you? I saw you at his office.”

“Yes, and you're one of the label’s new hires who's still at that phase they're not ashamed to kiss ass.”

Finally, you turned, blowing the smoke in his direction. He barely felt it, really, because he was more focused on your smile, and the way your glossy lips stretched, and your nose scrunched.

Normally, he would have been pissed. But, with that face, you must have been used to stepping on people's toes and not getting heat because of it. He'd let you blow smoke directly on his face if it meant you'd keep looking at him.

You gestured vaguely to the seat in front of you, and he took the message. “Maybe. Am I kissing the right ass?” He grinned as he sat down.

No ring on your finger, he noticed, and maybe it was a good sign. He could be unbothered too. With the right amount of madness and a little Munson Magic, he could leave here with your number.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, but grinned back. “I'll have you know my ass is very demanding.”

“Noted.” He feigned seriousness. “I’m Eddie.”

“Munson, I know.”

Surprised, his eyebrows rose to his forehead. “How do you know?”

A chill ran down his spine at the mention of his last name. The curse he carried. Of course you'd know, your dad would know, even though he's never talked about it. Everyone knew.

“Dad isn't the only one in charge of business. At least not all of it.” You played with the piece of lime on your glass, and ran your finger through the rim, catching a bit of the salt there, licking it off your finger. “I know a thing or two.”

Right. All business, but no family.

You couldn't have been doing it on purpose. Eddie didn't think he was worth it, but the strain on his jeans said otherwise. He felt tense for more reasons than one.

“And you're not gonna tell me your name?”

“Thought you already know. Boy like you looks like he would do his homework.”

“Oh, no. A boy like me failed high school more times than I'd be comfortable sharing.”

He chuckled, and there it was again. Your laugh, freeing itself against the walls of the bar and bounced on him like a spell. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”

“Thought your ass was very demanding.” He quoted you, grinning from ear to ear, and tilting his head. “Was my kissing good enough?”

You put out your cigarette on the table and dropped the butt on your empty glass before looking straight into his eyes. Then, you got distracted by something happening behind him. He felt it too, and turned around to look.

The guy, your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, approached with no drinks in hand, despite coming from the direction of the bar, and no blonde friend in sight. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. “Who’s this?”

When Eddie turned back to you, you were already standing too. “New meat. Doesn’t know he’s swimming with sharks yet.”

You were talking like he wasn’t not there.

Inside, he deflates. He knew your type, your definitely-boyfriend’s type. The type who looked down on him, who thought little of his ambition. Eddie thought he could approach you, even though you were every bit as unapproachable as you looked. Things had changed for him, but that wouldn’t change regardless of where he stood. He was still at the bottom of the food chain, and you, taunting him at the very top.

It wasn’t like either of you were aware of it, but it had been nice to pretend for what little he could.

Didn’t change the fact that he still wanted you to look at him — and you did, for one last time that night, as the other guy laced his fingers with yours, and pulled you away, telling you something about an after party.

“Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

ALBATROSS RECORDS HQ, SAN FRANCISCO, 1990

Eddie has a lot to think of while he waits.

It seems like some kind of punishment, one parents would dish out on their small kids. Sit on that corner, face the wall, think of what you did. Think of what you did. It was easier to think of what he hasn’t done.

Missing an important concert because he was shitfaced and blacked out was the last drop, but that glass has been full for some time now.

Out of control, it's what he's been hearing. He'd seen his own face on MTV not too long ago, late at night on a grainy television, baring his tongue back at himself. He gives himself the devil horns like a crown, a silver cross hanging from his neck and sticking to his bare chest, as he addresses the camera from the stage before diving in the crowd. Out of control, they said.

He'd barely remembered that, or that the concert was being filmed. Figures.

Though, he had to agree someone in control wouldn't end up with as many bills for destroyed tour buses and hotel rooms in his name as he did. Someone in control wouldn't have been arrested for drug possession more than once, or have almost drowned in a hotel pool across the world. Or have lost the trust and admiration of his closest friends, and the contact with the only family he has.

His head aches. Eddie lifts his fingers to massage his temples, and sighs. It's August in California, and he's cold sweating in his seat, under his t-shirt. The chill gets worse when he hears the office’s door open behind him.

He doesn't turn around, doesn't move. The man approaches the table — his table — and loosens the collar of his dress shirt before sitting down, undoing his cufflinks and folding his sleeves up.

Ace Adler is a man of few words. He never talks much, but when he does, he makes sure one will listen. Eddie doesn't know much about him outside of talking business, other than Ace Adler was definitely not his real name, but he knew to take him seriously.

It felt like being in a room with his father, but at least his old man knew how to work a room before striking.

“I'm not going to tell you about the harm that you've done, but I'm sure your bandmates had the time to inform you.” Ace started, staring him down. “I won't tell you about the money we lost, and the contracts we had to humiliate ourselves to not lose, or what my business partners told me when they got the news. You must have a feeling it wasn't pretty.”

“I can…” Eddie started, and all he received was a raised hand in response.

“You'll talk when I'm done, son.”

A pause, much too long. Eddie nods, and keeps his eyes forward. It'll be worse if he doesn't meet his manager’s cold stare. His stomach drops.

“I won't tell you about any of it because that won't change a thing. All I'll tell you is that you got lucky, because I was supposed to fire you today, but someone changed my mind.”

“Fire me? Fire me from my own band?”

Ace doesn't answer his outburst. Instead, he slips a note from across the table in his general direction. It's a piece of ripped pink paper.

Tentatively, he opens it. There's all but a name and a phone number. Your name, and your phone number. You're using your real last name, he supposes, but that's undoubtedly you. Was that your handwriting too?

“Give her a call.” Ace says as he stands again, already on his way out. “Maybe she can help you out, because I won’t.”

As he hears your father close the door behind him once more, he thinks of all the last few times he saw you. The disdain in your eyes, the harsh words he uttered. Animosity from both sides, born from years of resentment.

He goes back to that first conversation. “Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

Never had he thought it would come that day.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Can He Sing?

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): None?

—————————————

“We’re ready when you are.”

“I’m good. Trev?”

“Uh yeah… I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Filming.”

“Hello! I’m Macy Grey and today we’re here with the singer-songwriter who brought you the famous album Silly Love Songs. And her lover Trevor Zegras from the Anaheim Ducks. On behalf of myself and the studio I want to thank you both for coming out today.”

“Of course! I love getting in touch with interviewers. Especially from locally known studios.”

“When I was informed you were in town for the All Stars, I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time, but I’m so happy you were able to fit us into your schedule.”

“Absolutely. I should be thanking you for letting Trevor come though. I know your forte isn’t exactly hockey players.”

Large studio interviews were a waste of time. It was something I always resented, and something that even morally never agreed with me. Large studios only wanted to get news first to make the most money. Smaller places offered a more personal environment and a more comfortable atmosphere. It was the only reason why I had invited Trevor along. I didn’t want him involved too much in the social half of my career, mostly because the industry and jealous fans could be cruel to artists’ lovers. But I reasoned with myself that one interview wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone like Macy Grey. She was always so kind and open to friends, family, or significant others of musicians.

“To kick us off, I’d love to talk more on the exact reason why you’re in town. Everyone is aware of your successes, but let’s fill the crowd in on Trevor’s.”

“Where to start?” I glanced at Trevor, who let out that awkward wheezy laugh. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but this was a new thing for him. Usually hockey interviews happened when there were loads of other people around. These interviews were far more private. “He was voted in as one of the players this year to play in the All Stars, and he’s competing in a few skills competitions as well. He won a gold medal with Team USA one year before the NHL, he attended Boston University before being drafted.. what else?” I hoped to get him to join in, but Trevor looked fairly comfortable letting me do all the talking. I could fix that though.

“Trevor was voted most likely to cry in a haunted house this year for team superlatives.” I smirked as soon as I heard him gasp.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Trevor cut in. “I’m not a baby, write that down.” He pointed toward Macy, as if the woman had some sort of notepad in her hands. “I’m just jumpy. It’s normal.” His blue eyes shifted toward me with a playful glare, Macy laughed softly at the exchange.

“Well, Trevor. It seems like you’re a pretty successful person yourself. Would you mind me asking how you two met?”

“Oh I love this story.”

“Me too,” Trevor chimed in, crossing his legs one over the other, and leaning forward like a kid during story time.

“So, I was in New York for a performance in MSG, and the Ducks were in town too for a game” I smiled, leaning back in my chair and trying to get comfortable. “My best friend had joined me for the eastern leg of the tour at the time, so we decided to go out for drinks downtown. My favorite bar in the city is 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar. So my best friend, Shelby and I, we just got two glasses of champagne and settled at a high table to watch the sunset. We’re minding our own business.. for the most part, but there’s this group of guys that are just carrying on. They’re loud and obnoxious and they look like your stereotypical frat guys. At one point Shelby had enough, and she got up to go yell at them.” I peeked at Trevor, his smile growing wider. He knew very well that this was the part where he came in. “So Shelby’s yelling at that group of guys, and I finally got up to go wrangle her. And just as I’m approaching.. I kinda stopped and asked myself if it was a good idea. Shelby doesn’t like to be told to stop much. Then I hear this voice right next to me. Scared the shit out of me. And the voice goes, “She yours?” I laughed softly, as did Macy.

“I apologized profusely for her behavior, and-“

“But I told her I wasn’t the one getting yelled at. So it didn’t bother me.” Trevor cut in with a toothy grin. “Then I bought her another glass of champagne and the rest is history.”

“Don’t forget about the part where you booked your hotel room for an extra night to see me perform.” I teased, “And bribed security into getting backstage to see me and ask for my number.”

“Those details don’t make me sound as cool though,” Trevor whined.

“That’s a really sweet story.” Macy chimed in.

“Thank you.”

“So he asked for your number, but who asked who out?”

“To simplify a long story, Trevor was beating around the bush too much for a little while, so one night be brought me flowers before an away game and I told him when he got back, we were going to go on our first date as an official couple.” Macy and I laughed in unison.

“And were there any arguments to that demand?”

“Not from me, no.” Trevor giggled. “I was more than happy to put a label on it.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Two years. Three at the end of All Star Week.”

“How adorable! You guys must be a strong couple then.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” Trevor smiled as he spoke.

“Now, the question on everyone’s minds is.. can he sing?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” I corrected Trevor ruthlessly. “He thinks he can.. but he can’t.” I chuckled, glancing at the sandy blonde to see his look of pure betrayal.

“Does that mean we won’t be hearing any duets?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered slyly, earning a surprised look from Macy. “Trev is featured on the album.. speaking. His features are mostly just backtracks.”

“I know this may be asking a lot but- is there any chance we could get a sneak peek at that?”

“For you Macy? I would love to.” I watched the girl’s eyes light up. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my files, scrolling through for a moment before I stood and dragged my chair closer to the woman’s.

“This song is called Spellbound. It was actually the first song I produced for this new album. I took some of my inspiration from the song Witchy Woman by the Eagles. The reason being, this was written during halloween, and that is just one of my favorite spooky songs. For this piece, I wanted it to feel supernaturally devoted to Trevor. Like.. kind of like.. like a love where one person idolizes the other, but not necessarily in an obsessive or toxic way. I think the lyrics and the tune teetering on the edge of insanity really adds to the supernatural edge and it also makes this song unique to Trevor. I can’t say I’ll ever produce another song like this, nor do I think anyone else will. Classic rock isn’t exactly my genre, nor do I plan for it to be. So this track really sticks out. Which is the main reason why I chose to give this song its own cover art. And I’ll be releasing it as the first single.” It was a lot of information to offer, but I was very passionate about the things I dedicated to Trevor. Especially this song.

Most of my music got old after constantly rerecording lyrics and harmonies, or sorting out instruments. But this song never did. I loved it through and through.

“This sounds amazing and so.. intricate. How long did it take in total from thinking of the idea to finalizing the song?”

“A full month maybe? I hadn’t been exactly itching to make a new album, so I knew if I was going to, my basis for it was going to have to be amazing. And I think I did a fairly good job.” I paused. “I hope so..”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. Let’s hear it!”

I wasted no time in playing the track, a steel guitar and stylized keyboard opening the musical scene. I was a person who loved using clips of recordings in my music, whether it was from everyday life, or a random video in my camera roll, or even if I took the recording of the sound specifically for a song. It was one of my many musical signatures, but the one I was most known for. Atop the smooth music, came the faded clinging of pans, and Trevor’s soft voice. “I can’t wait for you to be home.. Fuck I miss you so much.” It had been a voicemail, but my sound producers managed to give it a more authentic feel, as if someone was in the room with him recording instead of it being spoken into a phone mic. The music itself was fairly calm and collected. Certain instruments helped it sound taboo and old, but the lyrics were the driving factor that made it sound almost insane. A part of me worried my audience wouldn’t take to the song well, but Macy seemed enthralled from the start of the track.

I eyed her expressions carefully through every second, smiling to myself when she seemed particularly intrigued by a section. And I had to admit, it boosted my ego to hear Trevor not too far off in his own chair humming the song to himself. I could live with myself if everyone hated the song, as long as he loved it.

Near the bridge, Trevor’s voice returned, “I’m gonna keep you forever.” This section had been specifically recorded in the studio, and despite my endless attempts to get him to take it seriously, he had giggled at the end of every take. Eventually I settled on knowing I wouldn’t have it the exact way I wanted it, and we used the take with the least amount of amusement in his voice. At the end of the day when we put it all together, his laugh only ended up adding to the crazy feel of the song.

Near the end of the track, Macy finally spoke up.

“This is the weirdest and most mentally satisfying song I have ever heard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?”

“You’re so right, it sounds nothing like what you usually produce, but it still has your essence in it. You can tell it’s your songwriting. I think this song is going to be crazy successful. And I also think having Trevor on it is going to make people go nuts” I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of that. I knew my fans would love to see Trevor featured.

“Thank you so much. I’m so excited to release the song.” I admitted with a slight grin.

“I’m just excited that I’ll be able to listen to it without having to say “babe can you sing me that song” every time I wanna hear it.” Trevor teased, causing my cheeks to flush as our eyes met.

“You don’t like her singing to you?” Macy joked.

“God no. I love it when she sings. I just hate how much I get made fun of when I ask her to do it.” The three of us laughed.

“Sounds to me like you have a pretty devoted girlfriend.”

“She did write a weirdly obsessive song about me.” Trevor agreed pridefully. “The first of many, right babe?” His question made my brow rise in surprise.

“We’ll see, Ziggy.”

“That’s a good answer. Can’t give too much away just yet.” My eyes trailed back to Macy. Our time was drawing to a close. “I hate to cut us short but I think we’re reaching our limit. And I know you have your own tight schedule today.” She paused. “I really wanna thank you again for making enough time to come out. It means a lot.”

“Mace, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we had so much fun being here. You always conduct the best interviews.” The woman blushed.

“We can come back anytime.” Trevor added, catching me off guard.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer the next time you’re in town.” Macy grinned. “I hope you both enjoy the All Stars, and rock the red carpet of course.”

“Thank you so much. We definitely hope to.”

“I’ll be watching on tv.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #ella’s thoughts #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #nico hischier #ella’s updates #ella’s asks #cole caufield #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader

[musedblues]

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

[bby-namjoon]

OldFriend!Mafia!Taehyung: First Love

(AU: where Tae was your bestfriend in high school and one day he vanished, but you meet again 10 years later and he has some secrets to hide)

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4}:

———————————————————————

“I’m excited!”

“Why?” He laughed, turning onto his street.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen your house yet and I just wanna see how you live! I think it’ll be nice to just see what you call home”

“Well, we’re here”

You turned your attention back out of the front windscreen and gasped, “this is your house? No way”

He’d turned through a pair of black steel gates before proceeding slowly up his driveway and stopping short of his large garage door. From first glance you could tell that his house was atleast twice the size of yours and far more modern. It’s high hedges made the lavish property feel safe and secluded, like this plot of land was its own sanctuary away from the outside world, but when you thought the exterior was beautiful, your jaw practically dropped as you stepped inside.

The first thing you noticed was the marble floors that stretched the entire expanse of the property, everything was large and beautifully designed, his love of art and music showing through the sculptures and paintings littered around the house, brightening up the neutral monochromatic themes that recurred throughout most of his rooms, just enough to add some character to them. Even his bathrooms were beautiful, both of them holding sleek granite sinks and chrome furnishings, the only thing differing between them was that one had a large roll top bath stood in the corner whilst the other had an enclosed glass shower. You continued to follow him around his home, watching as he pointed out the empty guest rooms and his office, telling you how most of his business gets taken care of at home and that his closest team often come over to work alongside him, coming and going throughout the week as needed.

The final room on the tour was his bedroom. As soon as you stepped inside you could smell his cologne, the last spray of it obviously still circulating around the room from where he’d gotten ready before your rooftop date earlier in the evening. He’d used his connections to set up a romantic sunset picnic for you both, where he used the slight breeze as an excuse to have you sit between his legs and hold you close as you fed eachother strawberries, feeling as though you were a million miles away from the bustling city of Seoul that continued it’s course beneath you.

If Taehyung knew how to do anything, he knew how to centre piece a room. Much like the grand piano in his living room, or the granite island in his kitchen, his king size bed sat proudly against the wall where it was boxed in by a bedside table on either side, it’s white sheets looking pristine and freshly made, making you have to resist the sudden urge to throw yourself onto it, burying yourself beneath his feather down duvet. He let you peek into his well organised wardrobes and drawers before finally pushing back his curtains and opening up a set of french doors that took up much of the wall on the far side of his room, his hand finding yours as he led you outside with him. The doors had brought you out onto a balcony that looked over his dimly lit, flower lined garden and across the distant tree tops to the city skyline, and you couldn’t describe how taken aback you were. Everything about this house from its architecture to the surrounding views was just amazing.

He pulled you over to sit on his outdoor chairs, a smile on his face. “You’re so cute, the whole time you were just like” he paused to pull a face of awe and you laughed, leaning back in your chair.

“I can’t believe you live like this, it’s crazy. I mean, I knew you lived in a nice house growing up, but this? This is just next level.”

“Thank you, I put a lot of my money into this house because I spend most of my time here, but I dunno, I still don’t feel as at home as I do when I come to yours.”

“Really? Why?”

“I guess because this house is so big and it’s just me, it just feels empty you know? I just have all this space with nobody to fill it, but your house is cosy and warm and I like that. 1st world problems amirite?”

“Wanna swap?”

“I’ll move in tomorrow,” he chuckled. “What would you have done if I lived in a horrible area or in a really tiny goshiwon?” (a small one bedroom apartment in Korea that usually consists of a bed and a desk and you share a kitchen/bathroom with others on your floor).

“Well, if you lived somewhere dangerous and you were at risk or you felt unsafe then I’d ask you if you wanted to come and live with me instead, and if you lived in a goshiwon I wouldn’t care because we’re always in eachothers personal space anyway,”

“That is true,” he smiled, “but aren’t you cute.”

“Were you checking if I’d still hang around if things go downhill and you lose all your money?”

“Pfft, no”

“Well just to be clear I wouldn’t care if you were rich or poor, Kim Taehyung. You’re still a good man at heart and that’s all that really matters to me,”

Your words made his heart squeeze because he didn’t agree, he didn’t think he was a good man. He’d told himself that if by the third date he was certain you both wanted to be together, then he would tell you everything, but until then he had to continue to swallow his guilt as if there was nothing to hide.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

“I haven’t got anything with me,”

“You can wear my clothes, and I have a spare toothbrush you can use”

“Alright then,”

When you got ready for bed he let you look through his T-shirt drawer to pick out what you wanted to sleep in, your hands automatically gravitating towards a white T-shirt with a big design on the front.

“I like that shirt, I have it in black too, I think”

“You should wear the black one! Where is it?”

“Are we really gonna be wearing matching couple shirts before we’re even a couple?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, I know you,”

He smiled, reaching into his drawer and pulling out the darker version of your chosen top along with some comfy bed trousers, leaving you to skip off to the bathroom and get changed. When you returned you were bare faced with your hair tied up in a bun, your body clad in nothing but a pair of knickers and his oversized shirt which stopped at your mid thigh, and when you saw him in his matching shirt you couldn’t help but squeal.

“We’re so cringe, I love it” you giggled, and you saw the smile creep onto his face as he failed to conceal how much he was enjoying this moment, no matter how clichè it was. He pulled you closer to him so he could have a proper look at you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his smile as his eyes wandered down your body, taking in how good you looked in his clothes as a familiar feeling of arousal started to rise within him, causing him to quickly try and cloud his brain with any other thoughts, something that was easier said than done as you pulled him over to the mirror to take a picture together, your bodys now pressed against eachother as he put his arms around you, smiling for the camera.

“These are so cute! Look!”

They really were cute.

“Send me those,”

“I expect to see them printed onto giant posters and stuck up around the house” you smiled as you sent the photos to him.

“As if I’d put them up and let other people see how good you look right now,”

You were surprised at his reply but you laughed, “I’m stood here with messy hair and no makeup on, people would probably think someone had a gun to your head to take these pictures with me”

He laughed, “well I think you look sexy in my clothes, you look way better than I would for sure”

“Shut uppp” you smiled, “and stop looking at me like that!” You reached up to cover his eyes and he caught hold of your wrists, peeking over your palms.

“Look at you like what?”

“You know how!”

“I don’t, enlighten me”

“Your eyes go all soft and you just look at me with a little smirk on your face! Stop!”

“Why? Does it get to you, Y/N?” He cocked an eyebrow and the smirk came back, making you exclaim out of frustration as you pulled your hands away from his and ran over to the bed, hiding yourself under the covers.

He laughed, following after you and hugging the mound your body made through the duvet, “you’re so annoying,”

“And you love it,”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do,”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled as you moved around underneath him, finally re-emerging into the open air. You were a little surprised at how close his face was to yours but you didn’t react, just closing your eyes to let him brush some stray strands of hair from your forehead. You felt his lips follow soon after, pressing a kiss just above the space between your eyebrows.

“I do wanna kiss you on the lips but I know we’re supposed to be behaving ourselves,” he spoke lowly, his voice making you open your eyes again to look up at him.

You tried to hold back your smile, playing it cool. “Well, it could technically be a goodnight kiss? We did just go on a date after all”

“Hmm, that’s true” he hummed, his gaze moving slowly from your eyes to your mouth as he edged a little closer. “Behaving is no fun anyway, right?”

“Someone’s not feeling shy anymore,”

“What can I say? Seeing you in nothing but my shirt has that effect on me” he smiled, closing the gap between you both as he manouvered around the duvet, careful not to break the kiss as he joined you under the covers. A shiver was sent up your spine as goose bumps broke out across your skin, your warm body obviously too sensitive to handle the touch of his icy fingertips. “Sorry, baby” he mumbled against your lips as he hooked an arm around you, making sure he was as close to you as possible to warm you up again, but his free hand was unable to hold back from wandering, carefully tracing itself up your leg before stopping at the thigh, giving it a squeeze, thoughts of him kissing and nipping and trailing his tongue up the soft skin now flashing through his mind, making him realise how desperate he was to have you writhing and moaning under his mouth, just the thought of it was intoxicating.

That was the first night you’d ever shared a bed together, all the other cuddles and erasure of eachothers personal space was usually not able to get this far as he’d tell you he had to go cause he has work early the next day, when in fact he was just heading out on his nightly shift of dealing, leaving you to sleep alone, none the wiser. Still, you took the moment in, your mind wandering back to the way he’d gripped and traced your thighs, fingers teasing the waistband of your underwear before tearing himself away and hiding his face in your neck, his lips still pressing kisses but softer this time, mumbling how much you mean to him as he gingerly tip-toed around the 3 words he knew he felt but wasn’t quite ready to speak into existence, his aura changing from needing release to needing affection, almost giving you whiplash as he did so.

He was mysterious to you, you wanted to keep searching his soul until you worked out what the missing puzzle piece was but you didn’t know where to start. Instead, you just enjoyed the moment, appreciating the way the sunlight that had broken through the crack in the curtains graced his face, illuminating how pretty he was.

You wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms as even in his sleep he held you closely, never wanting you to leave his embrace because it brought him comfort. Comfort to know that you were here, with him, happy and safe and content. It’s all he wanted.

Sadly though, all good things must come to an end.

—————————-

Tae spat onto the rain covered pavement, leaving a small puddle of red to spread out on the grey tarmac, blood trickling down from his nose and onto his white dress shirt, mimicking the pattern of the raindrops that had now soaked through his clothes. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

He got back to his car, bloody knuckles scraping against the inside of his trouser pockets, sending a familiar yet out-dated pain to course through his nerves as he pulled out his phone, sending a message to his boys about the event that had just taken place.

It was supposed to be a quick job, a quick job that if completed would mean that he could spend the whole night with you tomorrow, but instead, it was a dirty trap. The deal had gone wrong and Taehyung was jumped by 3 men, all of them trying their best to overpower him and drag him to the floor, expecting to get away with the money and the drugs, but Tae wasn’t the weak fool they expected him to be. Despite the odds not being in his favour, he walked away with all the goods he arrived with, leaving the men with nothing but bullet wounds and broken bones.

He slumped back into the drivers seat, a dull ache pulsating through his right eye after sustaining multiple hits to the side of the face, his split lip throbbing mercilessly, yet he didn’t react. It had been a while since something like this had happened, but he’d been through far worse during his time in the industry, the scars literred across his body were proof of that.

To him, the bigger problem was that he knew he had to avoid you for a week or two, he needed enough time for his face to heal before seeing you again. Sure, he could lie and say he was mugged, or a crazy person attacked him in th street, but his pride was far too great for that. He’d never admit a false defeat.

The first lie of a business trip in Busan lasted a few days, believable enough for him to avoid having to see you, but he made sure to call and text as much as he could, wanting to make it clear that he wasn’t just avoiding you altogether.

“Boss, I caught wind that Yongguk isn’t happy about what happened that night you fought his men. He thinks you dishonoured him and he wants payback.”

Taehyung scoffed, “he wants payback? What is wrong with that guy? He’s the one that ordered for the deal to go bad, it’s not my fault his men aren’t trained well enough to take on one man”

“I know, but we’ve always known that he’s fucked up. Apparently two out of the three men he sent to you died, so he wants to even the playing field, I’m not sure if that means to come and kill you or any of us but he’s got a plan brewing.”

“Well I’m not gonna let him or anyone else hurt you guys, they can come for me all they want, but you’re not getting harmed, I can tell you that much.”

“No, we will stand alongside you. What’s the plan?”

“Well we’ll have to find out some more info first so go with Hoseok and Jungkook and try to find out as much as you can. We’ll gather here tonight at about 10 to talk it over.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Thank you.”

With a bow of his head Jimin left Tae’s office, leaving him alone to think about everything that was suddenly coming his way.

His phone started to ring, snapping him out of his thoughts. Y/N flashing up in bold across his screen.

“Hey Tae,”

“You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just miss you..you’ve been so m.i.a lately”

“I’m sorry, I just- after the Busan trip I felt a little unwell..I think I’ve come down with something and didn’t want to get you sick too, but believe me I miss you aswell”

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“Uhm I’m not sure really, I keep getting headaches and feeling sick”

“Oh no, rest lots and make sure you eat enough, do you need anything?”

“No thanks baby, I’m good. I’ll be sure to look after myself so I can see you again soon, I promise I’ll spoil you to make up for lost time” he frowned, feeling guilty for all the lies he’s told over the past week.

“You don’t need to, just seeing you again will be enough,”

“Aren’t you cute,”

“The cutest,” he could hear your smile through the phone and it made him feel warm, “now get some rest, I want you to be better as soon as possible! No excuses!”

“Yes ma’am! I’ll try my best and I’ll see you soon, thank you for calling me, I don’t deserve you”

You laughed a little, “shut up, there’s no need to thank me! I’ll see you soon, Tae” you smiled, and even though he couldn’t see you he smiled too,

“See you, y/n”

When you hung up he sighed, putting his head in his hands. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

—————————————

That evening tae invited his boys over for them to relay any information they found so they could devise a plan of action against Yixing and whatever he was plotting.

“We need to take him out, Tae. The longer he’s around, the more shit he’s gonna cause. He’s insane.” Yoongi spoke up, shaking his head at the information Jimin told to the group.

“I know, but it’s not as simple as that. We need to be tactical. If we know he’s planning to ransack us at our next shipment pick up, we’ll be on high alert. We’ll change our formation. It’ll only be the start so we need to keep two steps ahead, but the fact we have the information means we’re heading in the right direction.”

“We could set up a decoy shipment? We could reroute and pick up from a different dock? That’ll buy us some time?”

“Good idea, let’s work this out”

The boys continued to brainstorm their ideas for the next few hours, but little did Taehyung know that you were on your way over to surprise him with some dinner, expecting him to be in bed unwell.

When you arrived you knocked on the door just as Yoongi was coming out of the kitchen, a bottle of beer in hand. He looked through the spyhole, seeing you stood holding a bag of food. “I got it!” Yoongi called out, thinking you were the delivery girl for the dinner they’d ordered.

He opened the door and you were confused, “is Taehyung here?”

“Uh yeah, but I can just take it, thank you, have a good night”

He took the bag from you and you you furrowed your eyebrows, stopping the door with your hand as he went to close it.

“Wait-I’m confused, who are you?”

“Why does it matter? Taehyung is here, we ordered this on his account, but he’s busy so I answered the door”

“I’m not a delivery person?”

“Then who are you? Why do you wanna see Taehyung so badly? Oh god, did he hook up with you? I-“

“What? No?” You felt a weird sensation in your stomach, had he been hooking up with other girls? All of this was making you feel uneasy. Something was going on. “Can you just get him? He’s my friend and I was bringing him dinner because I thought he was sick.”

The man in front of you looked confused, he hadn’t seen or heard of you before. “What’s going on? Is the order wrong?”

Perfect timing.

When Tae appeared beside Yoongi you gasped at the bruises on his face, his bottom lip still swollen and scabbed from being split. You saw his eyes grow wide and he felt his heart fall into his stomach. He didn’t expect you to be here.

“This girl said she’s your friend and she made you dinner cause you’re sick?”

“Yeah Tae, I thought you were sick. Not battered and bruised, what’s going on? What happened to you?” You were dying to cup his face and kiss his bruises better but you knew he was keeping something from you, so you stood your ground.

Yoongi looked between you and Tae before backing up, sensing the tension in the air. “I’ll just go put this in the kitchen..”

Taehyungs heart was beating out of his chest, he almost wished Yoongi hadn’t left you two alone, he didn’t want to get into a fight with you. He didn’t want things to go like this.

“Are you gonna answer me or what?” you crossed your arms, looking up at him, waiting for him to give you an explanation.

He stepped out the house and closed the door behind him, blocking out the sound of the other male voices that were flooding towards you from the living room.

“I uhm..I don’t really know what to say..”

“What do you mean you don’t know what to say? You seemed to have a lot to say before when you were making up lies about being sick”

His head was spinning as he tried to think of a response, so instead he just bit his bottom lip, looking at the floor. He didn’t have the confidence to look you in the eyes.

“Are you just not interested in me anymore? Is that it? That guy asked me if I was one of your hookups, is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Am I just one of your throw away girls?”

“What? No! I’m not hooking up with anybody! I only want to be with you, nobody else! There’s never been anyone else!”

You felt your chest tighten at his words. “How can I believe you when I know you’re still keeping something from me?”

“I just don’t want things to change, I know as soon as I tell you the truth you’re gonna see me differently and I’m scared of that..I-I don’t want to lose you again.”

You suddenly felt scared, maybe you didn’t want to know the truth.

“I’m scared now too, but just tell me. I want to know.”

He took a deep breath, thinking it all through. He realised that there was no way out of this now, and that he had to finally tell you the truth. The jig was up.

“Okay, fine..but can we talk about this in my car? I don’t want anyone listening.”

You nodded, “yeah, fine.”

He disappeared back into the house for a moment to retrieve his keys, trying his best to psych himself up for what was about to happen. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react, the enclosed space of his car possibly becoming the worst place to talk if you end up shouting, but it was too late to go back on himself now. He’d wasted enough time.

Once you both sat down in the front seats you turned to face him while he focused on the steering wheel, still too afraid to make eye contact.

You looked at his swollen, busted lip and the shadows of bruises that took over the side of his face. Had he been mugged? Who would do something like this to him? Why wouldn’t he just tell you?

You suddenly felt a swirl of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and you just wanted to know the truth. Whatever it was, you just had to make sure he wasn’t in danger.

“Tae, please just tell me, I’m worried about you.”

“Please promise me you won’t hate me,”

“What?”

He looked at you for the first time this evening, his eyes panicked. “If I tell you, please don’t hate me. I’ve been scared to tell you this whole time because I’m scared you’ll hate me and you won’t want me in your life anymore. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you, but I don’t want to lose you, not again.”

The anxious swirl returned, this time in the form of a tsunami as it moved to engulfed your chest, your eyes still on his bruised ones as he pleaded to you.

“I-I can’t promise that because I don’t know what you’ve done, Tae. You know me, I will try my best to understand you because I don’t want to lose you either, but we can’t work through something unless I know what it is.”

He took a deep breath, seeming defeated, but he knew you were right. He couldn’t expect you to promise that when he knew the kind of person he was.

“Okay..I’ll tell you.”

And with that, he turned back to the steering wheel, his gaze on his lap, and he told you everything. He told you about the real business his family had been involved in growing up, the trading of arms and drugs and any other illegal substance you could think off. All of which became his after his father had died. All of which became his and that’s why he disappeared.

He told you about his men, one of which you’d met at the door, and how without them he’d never have made it this far, because even though he was their boss, they were a team and together they ran the underground scene.

He told you about the things he’s done and the things he’s seen in order to to get to where he is today and you couldn’t even talk. You were in shock. You watched as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes closed as he thought back on his career and the life he leads.

Finally he told you about his face and why he’d been avoiding you. He was too scared to let you know about the real him. The real him that laundered and blackmailed and fought in back alleys in the middle of the night after a deal’s gone bad. The real him that killed people. Albeit to stay alive, but he still killed.

He looked in pain as he wrapped up his explanation, his eyes threatening to brim over with tears. He really was a terrible person. He was selfish to expect you to stay. He was wrong to even bring you into all of this, lulling you into a false sense of comfort. He was disgusting and he hated himself.

“I just-I just didn’t want you to know me as this person, I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in my life and the shiftiness that comes along with it. I wanted you to see me as a better person, someone that reminded you of teenage me, of the good memories we had together, but-but I realise now that that’s not fair. You deserve better than this, better than me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You saw the brimming tears finally roll down his cheeks and he wiped them away. The silence in the car becoming deafening.

You couldn’t process anything he had just said. Being a gangster was one thing, selling drugs and buying guns, but murder? He was a murderer.

You felt your body shake with agitation, you felt sick.

How could he be capable of that? With his own bare hands? The same hands that held yours. The same hands that pulled you close to him and wrapped you in a hug. The same hands that ran through your hair and held your face as he kissed you.

“Please say something..” he sniffed as he turned to you, trying to find some kind of emotion on your face.

“I uhm..I think I need to go. I-I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go.”

Your gaze flashed up to his before gathering yourself and getting out, keeping your head down as you rushed back across his front garden and down his drive, almost reaching the front gate when you heard him call after you.

“Y/N, please! Wait! What does this mean?” You knew he wasn’t asking about your almost relationship, but more so whether or not you’d ever speak to him again.

You stopped in your tracks, turning back to him, you wished you hadn’t after seeing his face. He looked like a kicked puppy. You felt a twang in your chest as you fought between your head and your heart, but in the end you decided to stay neutral.

“I need some time to think, Tae. I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.”

You tore yourself away from him and hurried out the gate, almost bumping into the real delivery boy on your way out.

You practically ran back to your car, locking the door behind you as you rested your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes.

You couldn’t believe it.

#bts #bangtan #taehyung #tae #v #mafia!taehyung #mafia!bts #bts mafia au #mafia au #bts au #bts imagine #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts one shots #bts one shot #taehyung au #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung one shot #v au #v imagine #v fanfic #v fic #v one shot #bts tae #taehyung x reader #boyfriend tae #friends to lovers

[4townlove]

4⭐Town Daydreams: A Moment Alone Amidst It All

your favourite member of 4Town and yourself do your best to hold back giggles as you duck out of the birthday party management and the studio has thrown for him.

the surprise was enough to nearly knock him off his feet, and the light that gleamed in his eyes when he found you amidst the crowd of his friends and colleagues and band members only made you fall for him even more. you'd been hardly able to hold back tears during your speech, but his hand around yours, as always, was enough to keep your feet on the ground.

"you all know about us," you smiled into the microphone, murmurs and chuckling agreement swirling around you as your turned your eyes to him at your side, your heart overflowing. "it was love at first sight, and we've been inseperable ever since. for better or for worse."

laughter rose to the roof of the rehearsal stage that was now redecorated to commemorate his special day. a bespoke lightbulb illuminated banner of his name hung high above everyone's heads like the 4Town banner usually would during concerts, on the enormous electric screen at the back of the stage, a rolling reel of candid and tour photos of him, 4Town together on stage and rehersing and behind the scenes, and of you and him enjoying dates and quiet moments captured in selfies, filled the darkness. but it was the smiles of everyone who made this dream possible all around that really brought light into the space.

"i... there arent words enough to express how deeply i love you," you said to him, your gaze so fixed in his that it seemed that everyone else fell away. "you're the single most talented and charming and awe-inspiring person i know... possibly on the planet. to know you and be with you is beyond an honor. i-i.... i just love you, babe." you beamed, voice cracking as tears filled your eyes. cooes and awws swelled up from the crowd as he walked closer, and when he hugged you tight, applause embraced you both together.

after fending off tears, he gave his own bashful speech of thanks and then the party took off. it was dancing and music and embarrassing karaoke and food, so much good food, and in the midst of it all, as everyone was captivated in enjoying the bliss and excitement of the moment, he took your hand and inclined his head to the door. and of course, you followed.

giggling, you both slipped away from the party and raced up the stairs to the roof, gasping deeply as the cool evening air hit you in the face as the door finally swung open.

a sunset the color of honey spilled out over the city and the horizon, ans from the rooftop of the studio, every surface before your eyes gleamed as if washed in gold.

"Baby?" he said, his voice gentle and so sweet that you couldnt resist turning to face him.

in the light of the sun, he shimmered, beautiful and bold and bright as he ever was. your heart tripped as you stepped closer to him, instinctively reaching out to take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

"this was... an incredible surpise. thank you for this, seriously. i have no idea how you kept it from me for so long but im not complaining."

seeing his face glow with delight still warmed your soul as you replied, "i spared no expense. i would never, when it comes to you."

now it was his turn to feel the butterflies in his heart kick up with excitement and adoration. for a while he just gazed at you, a lovestruck grin pushing into his cheek. how lucky was he to be with you, to know that, somehow, you loved him...

"well, i just... i needed a moment alone with you to say that." he blushes as he spoke, glancing down and squeezing your palm and then, meeting your gaze again, breathed with enough sincerity to make his eyes glisten with tears, "and also to say that... i love you... s-so much."

of all the times he'd said this to you, this time seemed to knock at the deepest and most tender corner of your heart. your face blossomed with the brightest smile as you rested your forehead against his.

"i love you too. with all i am." you whispered back, exhaling so deeply you felt weightless as he tilted his head and softly kissed you. the sun seemed to expell more warmth and glittering light around you both, uniting you in this sacred moment, and reminding you both that no matter what, or who else is around, it will always, always, be you and him at the heart of it all.

and that was the greatest gift either of you could ever treasure always.

#turning red #4town #4 town #4*town #4townie #4town headcanons #4town x reader #4town robaire #4town jesse #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #⭐headcanons #⭐from 4townlove

[stxrshxpxd]

🎁 fic friday;

“we’re definitely staying in tonight”

90s brett anderson x reader

brett’s birthday on tour

Brett and I had slept almost all of his birthday away. After staying out till about four last night I had fallen asleep with my cheek pressed into his warm, sweaty chest and woken up with my nose buried in the side of his ribs and an arm draped across his hips.

I hadn’t allowed him to stay in bed for very long after we woke, only enough time to give him a kiss and a ‘happy birthday’ before dragging him to the hotel room shower. I had taken the time to gather all my little silly gifts from their hiding in my suitcase and shoved them into a plastic bag. Being on tour with the boys meant I was more or less constantly with Brett for weeks and had little time to buy proper gifts, and so mostly it was a plethora of smaller things I had managed to get sneakily in corner shops or the odd mall.

Taking a peek outside through the half drawn blinds, I saw the autumn sunset beginning to paint the sky and felt a desperate need for some fresh air and daylight. And so, again, I didn’t let him stay in one place for very long once he tiredly made it out of the shower, egging him on to get dressed and practically throwing his leather jacket on for him before dragging him away again. I was still in my jeans and top from last night but had slipped on a thick knitted sweater of Brett’s.

“God, can I have a minute to breathe on my own birthday?” he muttered behind me as I pulled him up the stairs to the rooftop terrace of the hotel. I laughed as I glanced back at him, his eyes half closed and damp fringe hanging across his forehead.

“In a minute,” I promised and captured his cheeks in my palms, giving him a long kiss as I backed us out onto the roof. The air was slightly chilly but the orange sun instantly coated us in warmth.

“That’s beautiful,” Brett whispered with his hoarse voice, sleep still lingering in it, as he gazed out at the city drenched in the warm sunset. I watched him for a moment, his face too drenched in sunlight and his little smile growing slowly.

“Okay,” I started and sat down, which Brett mirrored. “Happy birthday,” I laughed and handed him the stuffed plastic bag.

He chuckled lovingly as he accepted it and began fishing through his gifts. A few of the first ones were little packets of sweets and they were instantly devoured by the both of us, evidently starving. Next he pulled out a small stuffed panther with a studded leather collar. Brett giggled and pouted fondly at the cute animal, tiny in his large palm.

“It’s literally you,” I gushed with a wide smile and I took the panther from him for a moment, stroking my thumb across his head.

“Black-haired and kinky!” I explained and pointed at the studded collar as I blinked up at Brett who was cracking up opposite me.

“Right. Of course.”

He laughed sleepily as he took the panther back and sat him down on the terrace floor between us, amidst the torn open sweet packets and other bits.

“I love him,” he chuckled as he dug his hand into the bag again. “Brett Junior.”

Pulling out the last gift, his eyes widened at the red bra and pants suddenly in his hand.

“Now who’s the kinky one?” he countered and displayed the bra, studying the thin lace as the straps hung off his fingertips between us.

“You could argue that’s borderline a gift for myself, but.. I thought you’d disagree, wouldn’t you?” I shrugged and peeked the little grin on his lips through the red lace.

“Yeah,” he laughed breathily and dropped his hands and the bra to his lap. “We’re definitely staying in tonight then.”

I laughed and crawled up to Brett’s side, kissing him sweetly as his arm hooked around my shoulders. I figured we had about ten minutes more until the sun would disappear behind the next tall building and leave our spot in the cold shade. I laid my head on Brett’s shoulder and felt another kiss being pressed into the top of my head.

“Thank you, darling.”

#dedicated to heyheyspaceman <33 #brett anderson #suede #fic #imagine #brett anderson x reader #fic friday

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty six

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

november 5, 2018 san diego, california orion

Spending my 22nd birthday going to visit my new oncologist was not my plan. I hadn’t made much effort to make it happen, but I was hoping to just have a night out in LA with Emelia, her roommates, and some of my classmates. I already had a reservation set up at my favorite rooftop bar for ten people. 

I knew Cal had a show — Amsterdam — so I didn’t expect to get to spend it with him. I figured he’d call me after he got offstage while I was out with my friends and I’d answer, tipsy from a few too many espresso martinis, and it would be sweet and everyone with me would think it was so cute that he was so busy but still so present in our relationship.

Clearly, nothing like that is happening today. The only thing that’s the same is Emelia. She’s coming over tonight. I think my moms are getting us all Thai food and we’ll watch a movie or play a game, and I think we’ll have a bonfire, but the night is looking very differently than what I’d planned months ago. Today is the day I find out how chemo went and whether or not I get to live a little longer.

While Mama drives to the hospital, she and Mom are talking about something I stopped paying attention to a long time ago. I’m grateful both of them are coming with me to learn about my fate. My mind is just spinning and I can’t even pin down a single thought, so I find myself distracting my brain by doomscrolling on social media and reading happy birthday texts. 

From: kaykay (5sos groupies) happy birthday orion! miss ya and love ya! From: crystal (5sos groupies) baby o!!!! we miss you so so much! we’ll all be home soon and want to see your sweet face if you’ll have us. happy birthday ❤️ From: sierra (5sos groupies) sweet orion!! missing you more than ever! happiest of birthdays to the prettiest of girls ❤️

Macy tagged me in an Instagram story of a collage of pictures we have together—random chemo selfies, the night we celebrated her being cancer free, and the tour sendoff party that happened what feels like a lifetime ago. “MOST BEAUTIFUL BIRTHDAY GIRL EVER! LOVE YOU LONG TIME TY FOR BEING THE BEST” she wrote on top of the photo.

Emelia posted a carousel of our pictures from the past three years, including a very cringey one of us on the first day of class freshman year. We’d somehow shown up to class wearing nearly identical outfits and we decided we were destined to be friends, which was a correct assessment. The most recent one was last week at the beach, when we had a sunset picnic. “Strongest, bravest, kindest, most passionate (and stubborn) girl on the planet. Happy birthday to my soul sister. There’s no one who loves like you and I love having your love in my life. 22 is no match for you! ‘Til death, my friend.” 

Ashton has a photo of us getting gelato in Rome two years ago. I think Giuseppe took the picture, but the memory is blurry. All I remember is how divine my pistachio gelato tasted and how jealous Ash was of how much better mine was than his. In the picture, I’m happily taking a lick from mine while Ashton pouts at me, holding his cup of banana gelato that he’d hardly touched. His caption is short and sweet. “Happy birthday to the best girl I know (sorry @kaykay).”

I don’t follow him anymore, but I pull up Cal’s profile to see if he’s posted any stories or anything else today. When his profile picture indicates that he has posted a story I haven’t viewed, out of habit, I check it. Even if he checks who’s viewed it, I’ll only be one of literal thousands, so I doubt he’ll be able to see me as a viewer. He posted a picture of himself on stage last night, and today, he just took a screenshot of listening to 22 by Taylor Swift on Spotify. 

He’s saying happy birthday, even if he isn’t. 

From: paula (lavapies forever) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAV ESTADOUNIDENSE!!! love you miss you!!!  From: giuseppe (lavapies forever) oh!! happy birthday orion!!! how did I end up in this group chat….. ? From: marta (lavapies forever) feliz cumple, orion!! te echo de menos!!!  From: ilse (lavapies forever) HAPPY BDAY ORION! ❤️ From: paula (lavapies forever) giu you’re one of the girlies sorry

I haven’t texted the “5SOS groupies” back yet, and am uncertain of whether or not I will, but I do text back my former flatmates (and Giuseppe). 

To: lavapies forever muchisimas gracias!!!! miss you all!!! also, have some news for you guys From: ilse (lavapies forever) FINALLY From: paula (lavapies forever) when were you gonna tell us you guys broke up!!!!!! what happened?!?!?!? From: marta (lavapies forever) seriously! how could you not tell us?! but yes what happened we are dying to know the details From: giuseppe (lavapies forever) oh yeah fran asked if i knew anything but obviously i do not  To: lavapies forever so… its not so much that i need to tell you about the breakup? i don’t know how else to say it than to just say it so i’m just gonna say it i have leukemia so cal and i broke up i’m actually on my way to the doctor rn to see how my chemotherapy treatments went

When the group chat activity halts, I know they’re now all confused and in shock. My friends aren’t exactly known for not having something to say. I leave the WhatsApp app to give them time to process and go to my regular messages to see who else has reached out.

From: lucas Hey, O. Just popping in to say happy birthday! Sent you a Venmo—have a martini on me. Hope you’re doing okay!

Every other notification is just miscellaneous family members and a few classmates who are just as out of the loop as the general public is on what’s happening in my life. I guess I should probably share something on my social media about what’s going on. I don’t want the fans to know, but I can tell my classmates and people I actually know. I decide I’ll post something later today, once I’ve heard whatever news that the oncologist is about to share with me. 

Right when I’m locking my phone, it starts buzzing with an incoming Facetime from Paula. I tell my moms I’ll be on a call before I answer.

“Hey,” I say as her face fills my screen.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” is how Paula starts the call. 

I frown. “It’s kinda hard to say over text. I’m sorry.”

“So call! Orion, what the hell! This is huge and I don’t know why you wouldn’t think we’d want to know!” 

I contemplate what to say next. I should be an expert at this after having to break the news Calum. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell Cal until last month.” 

Paula’s mouth drops and I can tell she’s about to dwell on this instead of the actual news. “So he broke up with you?!” 

“What? No!” I sigh. “No, I broke up with him.” 

Her face contorts with confusion and she shakes her head, the idea rattling around in her brain. “You broke up with him?! Because you have cancer?!”

“Please don’t make me talk about this, Pau, it’s all anyone wants to talk about and I’m tired of it.” 

“No! We are going to talk about this! You guys are perfect together and you broke up with him in the middle of a life threatening diagnosis? What the fuck, Orion?” 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I beg. “It’s my birthday. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll let you know how things went today.”

She groans. “Fine, but only because it’s your birthday!” 

“Orion,” Mama says, catching my attention. “We’re here.”

I nod and look back to my phone. “¿Hablaremos mañana?”

Pau nods. “Mañana.”

Paula and I hang up then, and I tuck my phone into the pocket on my black sweatpants. We get out of the car and walk to the door of the cancer center, checking in at the desk and going to the waiting room. I feel like I’ve done all of this a million times now, but I haven’t felt this nervous about it in a long time. 

They call my name to come back, and we trudge slowly after the nurse and we sit in a sterile exam room that looks just like every other sterile exam room in the world. While we wait for the doctor to come in, my moms and I sit in silence. I don’t think anyone wants to say anything. I know I don’t.

Five minutes of waiting later and then there’s a knock on the door. My new doctor, Dr. Gupta, walks in with his clipboard and the nurse in tow. He takes a seat on the wheeled stool and moves it closer to me so that we’re only about a foot or two apart. 

“Good morning,” he says. “And, happy birthday.”

I give him a tense smile. “Thanks.” 

I had to come in last week for another biopsy and a full blood panel again to be able to assess the status of my cancer, so today is literally just to talk about the results. They also have me a full body exam to check my lymphnodes and other symptoms. Given the look on Dr. Gupta’s face from the moment he walked in, whatever he’s going to say isn’t good.

“Orion, there isn’t an easy way to say this, so I’m sorry,” he says, off to a horrible start. “The chemo hasn’t made much of a dent in the leukemia, and I’m afraid it’s progressing.” 

I look over at my moms who are clenching their jaws and squeezing each other’s hands. I’ll cry if I watch, so I look back to Dr. Gupta. 

“You have options, though. We can continue to try to find you a bone marrow donor, and there are a number of trials that are available, we’d just need to transfer you back to LA.” 

I shake my head. “I can’t go back to LA.” 

“Honey, you can go back—-“

I cut Mom off. “I’m not doing trials. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m not doing something else that will make me feel miserable and we don’t even know if it’s going to work. Besides, I’ll get what, maybe a year or two out of it if they do work?”

I look at Dr. Gupta to confirm, and he pulls his mouth into a slight frown. 

“There’s no guarantee on timelines or results, but, roughly, given your case, that’s what we’d be looking at.” 

“Right, and I’ll get like… a year, a few months if we just stop doing things?” 

Dr. Gupta sighs. “Again, we can’t say for certain, but roughly, yes, about a year.” 

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. Can I go now?” I stand up, grabbing my bag. 

“Orion, at least hear about what options—“

I spin around, quickly, to face my moms. “I’m not doing anything.”

They look at me with tears in their eyes, begging me to stay and listen, but I don’t want to. 

“I want to go home. I want to live comfortably and just have time with people I care about. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway. It doesn’t even matter, and I’m not going to LA again.” 

We have a silent argument with just our eyes before they look to Dr. Gupta.

“Can we have the pamphlets on the trials? We can discuss this at home and let you know.”

Dr. Gupta quickly hands them the stack of brochures he’s had on top of his clipboard. “You don’t have to decide anything today, and please call me if you have any questions.” 

I walk out of the room then. I don’t want to dwell in there and I don’t want to dwell on what I’ve just learned. I can’t think about it. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. I just can’t spend my birthday thinking about it all. Today I’m supposed to celebrate my life, not the impending date of my death. 

—

We’re having a bonfire in the backyard with my family, Emelia, and Macy — complete with gelatin-free marshmallows and a crock pot full of mulled wine — when my phone starts going crazy. I try to ignore it and just enjoy the night with Emelia and Macy, who are listening to and respecting my wishes not to talk about the news of the day. I promise them we’ll talk about it tomorrow. 

My phone has probably buzzed twelve times in the past two minutes, and Emelia ends up taking my phone off the arm of the wooden chair I’m sitting in to look at it, apparently annoyed by all the notifications. She unlocks my phone for herself and her eyes grow wider as she looks at whatever notifications I’ve gotten.

“Jesus,” she whispers, scrolling through whatever it is. 

“What is it?” Macy asks before she takes another sip of her hot wine. 

“Um…” Em says, trailing off, still staring at my phone’s screen.

I hold my hand out for her to give me my phone back, and she pulls it further away from me, her eyes still glued to the bright screen. I can see it’s a text thread with a lot of texts from the other person.

“Give me my phone,” I instruct, holding my hand closer to her.

“It’s not good, are you sure?” 

I roll my eyes. “Em, there’s nothing worse than hearing that your chemotherapy didn’t help your terminal cancer on your birthday. I can handle whatever the hell someone texted me.” 

She sighs and hands my phone to me. “I warned you.” 

I take in what’s on my screen and feel my stomach start to churn. She’s right. It’s not good.

From: mike-o cliff-o yknow what orion, fuck you i don’t give a fuck that it’s your birthday FUCJ YOU my band, my BEST FRIENDS, aren’t speaking because you couldn’t tell the truth thos is your fault calum won’t even LOOK at ash! howrdare you you had no right to come into our lives and fuck up the one thing that matters most to all of us and then just LEAVEW do you know how depressed cxalum is he doesn’t do anything except show up on stage and drink and whineand moanmb he’s a fucking qwreck and that’s on yuo you play this innocnt sweet act that you’re jsut being kind and whatever bllshit you tell yourself but you and i both know you’re actually a shitty person what kind of person doesn’t tell their partner they have CACNDR and then BROAKS UP WITH THEM over it fuck you. i hope it’s terminal. and i hpoe it sucks.

My eyes start to water as I read through everything, but I try to remember that Michael is clearly very drunk. 

“No, he doesn’t get to make you cry on your birthday. Give me that, I’m texting a screenshot of that shit to Crystal.” Emelia holds her hand out for my phone again, but I hug it to my chest. 

“No, it’s fine. He doesn’t mean it, and he deserves to be mad.” 

“What? Who texted you?” Macy asks from my other side. I sigh and hand my phone to her so she can read it all. 

“It’s fine, he’s drunk. If that made him feel better to say that, it’s fine.” 

Emelia is fuming next to me and watching as Macy’s face gets more and more concerned while she reads what Mike sent. I don’t want to let them sway me. I don’t care what he sent. 

“Holy shit, O, that’s not okay,” Macy says while she hands me my phone. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

But I do.

read next chapter

#5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #calum hood #fanfiction #5sosfam #imagine #fanfic #michael clifford #calum 5sos #calum fanfic #calum fic #calum x ofc #calum x fem!oc #better left unsaid

[emptystove]

The Long Con - Ch 5

One Piece Fanfic (Romance/Drama/Suspense)

Pairing: Nami x Law

Rating: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY

Description: Nami is working as an officer in Arlong's gang. A job goes south, and she is forced to make up for it infiltrating a notorious crime family to gather intel for Arlong. When everyone has their own agenda, plans quickly take a turn. Nami x Law and one-sided Vinsmokes x Nami.

Posted to AO3, FanFiction, and Wattpad under HortyCord.

Chapter 5 - Waiting

Ichiji led Nami inside the front entrance of the manor. He briefly checked his pocket watch before offering to give her a proper tour. It was something she had previously hoped for, although with a different guide. It was easy to pull a con when she could read her mark. Unfortunately, Ichiji was the one Vinsmoke that showed her nothing. She was desperate to understand his intentions so she could plan for whatever was to come. That ended up causing her to struggle with dividing her attention between mentally mapping the layout and trying to get a read on Ichiji.

Conversation didn't flow as easily as with his brothers. With Niji and Yonji, she would let them regale her with stories of their "heroism" and would easily feign interest, or she could laugh at their shallow attempts at jokes. Ichiji seemed reluctant to speak freely. When she wasn't looking at him, she could feel his gaze boring into her. With every step, she had to work harder to temper her fear. Did he know who she was? Was he simply getting her away from the others so he could confront her? Kill her? She hadn't used a fake name but was careful to hide her tattoo. She had no weapon on her to fight back and no way to signal to law if she needed help. She did not bring her baby den den mushi because they planned to be together during the celebration. All of the servants or soldiers who would normally be inside were out at the games. They were alone, and she prayed her wits were enough to get her through whatever he had planned.

They reached the top floor and he led her down the wide hallway, pointing out the bedrooms of the Vinsmoke siblings as well as some guest accommodations. They didn't enter any of these rooms, and he gave her a look that pushed her forward without touching her when she lingered too long in a doorway. She wouldn't be able to map out the rooms in detail, but she could tell the basic layout and size based on what she saw from the outside and the floors below. At the end of the hallway, he stopped to motion to a set of large, wooden double doors. "After you."

She hesitated but pushed back her thoughts of dread as it seemed the tour was ending and he would subject her to whatever torment was involved in his chosen favor.

As the doors opened, she had to blink a few times to adjust to the lighting. The sun was beginning to set as a sea of soft pinks, oranges, and blues scattered across the horizon. The sunset was reflected in the ocean beneath as well as in the flowers covering all sides of the moderately sized balcony. She let out a small gasp at the sight, and she heard Ichiji let out a short huff of air behind her. She walked to the edge and took in the full landscape. Her eyes drifted from the sea to the rooftops of the town and ended on the lawn with the concluding games. She all but forgot herself until she glanced down to see a dark figure under a tree, a white ball of fluff in his arms, returning her gaze with unwavering golden eyes.

She held his gaze even as she heard the door behind her close, sensed footsteps approach, and felt the heat of the man standing directly behind her.

*****

It felt like ages waiting for her to return. Law cursed himself for not forcing her to bring the baby den den mushi. He cursed himself for allowing her to talk him out of bringing his sword. He cursed himself for letting the situation get so far out of his control. He knew his time would be better served questioning Niji and Yonji, but he did not trust how thin his temper was at the moment. Stroking the hair of the now sleeping mink cub was all he could do to keep from going insane.

Ichiji seemed utterly uninterested in Nami by everything she had told him. The oldest brother seemed to be the cleverest, although based on his brief experience with the Vinsmokes, Law doubted any of them were all that bright. She focused on manipulating the other two, and he worried what Ichiji may have seen in her while her attention was elsewhere.

Movement caught his eye on one of the balconies. He had been watching the outside of the manor religiously, looking for any sense of what was inside.

His heart lifted slightly as he watched the redhead gaze over the island, seemingly unharmed. She was safe. She was calm. She was looking back at him.

As quickly as it had lifted, Law's heart dropped back down into his stomach as he watched the prince slowly approach the balcony's edge, stopping closely behind her. He couldn't tell from this angle if he was touching her or what he might be whispering in her ear. Had he done something to her already? Was the favor complete? Why had she done this to herself? Law knew he didn't deserve any act of kindness from her. His anxiety was almost too much to contain as she looked away from him, following Ichiji back inside.

To Law's surprise, it was only a few minutes before they exited the manor and walked directly toward him. He was ready to make up an excuse to leave immediately but was surprised again when Ichiji did it for him, insisting they take their leave with the mink to get him acclimated to his new masters.

As they walked away, Law could feel Ichiji's eyes on their backs. He was all but driven mad by Nami's reluctance to immediately tell him what had happened, but he held his tongue until they returned to their apartment where they were safe from unwanted eyes and ears.

As soon as the door shut behind them, he set down the bear and rushed to Nami to begin looking her over. His eyes and hands moved quickly over her hair, face, neck, and shoulders.

"Law! What the hell are you doing?!" She squealed as his hands turned over her arms, searching for any sign of unwanted touch. He reached to spin her by her shoulders, but she slapped his hand away.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded.

For a brief moment, she looked like she was going to clobber him but after meeting his eyes, she stopped herself. She let out an annoyed sigh, "He didn't touch me."

Law released a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding. He looked away, realizing just how tense his body had been. Stay calm. Stay in control. He turned to lift the mink in his arms and took a seat on the small couch.

"Tell me everything" he demanded again, though calmly this time.

Nami sighed again and walked over to the breakfast table, grabbing some blank paper to begin drafting.

"A please wouldn't kill you," she mumbled under her breath.

"Nami-ya."

"Alright already, geez! I'll tell you everything, but let me do this while it's fresh in my mind. When Ichiji took me inside, I finally got the tour of the manor I've been wanting."

"Why would he do that?" Law wondered out loud. He expected Yonji or Niji to take her on the tour in an effort to seduce her. It was painfully obvious how they took any opportunity to touch her, even more so when there was a pang in Law's chest when she allowed it. He swore it was because he'd be to blame if anything happened to her on Germa and success in this mission was vital to his own. No one there had expected the flippant, brooding brother to return with the bear less than him. That made the pang in his chest move to his stomach as he realized his mistake. He had been watching Niji and Yonji like a hawk, so much so that he neglected to assess Ichiji as another threat, another player in this game, another element of the puzzle to be dealt with. Ichiji had tricked both his brothers and Law into underestimating him. His intentions were a mystery, making things that much harder to plan for. Another element out of his control. He felt the tension in his muscles rising again.

"I have my theories, but he's harder to read than the other two." She continued sketching quickly. She would get the rough drafts completed first and add the finer details in later. "But I think he was trying to kill time before he took me on the balcony."

Law furrowed his brow. The cub began snoring in his lap as he absent-mindedly stroked behind his ears. He needed a plan for the mink, but that had to wait until he got answers.

"I got the basics of the main 3 floors. In addition to the security post at the entrance to the grounds, there's a security room on the second floor with several monitors. I couldn't get a good look at what they were showing, but there weren't any surveillance den den mushi that I could see anywhere he showed me." She set aside the paper and grabbed another to sketch out the next floor. "And based on the amount of emergency generators hidden in the back garden, I'd bet my wardrobe there's more than just an infirmary in the basement."

"Makes sense," Law hummed. He had assumed they had something to do with their technology hidden in the manor, but he wasn't expecting more than a small medical bay after Nami mentioned that is where Yonji went after his arm was broken. The Vinsmokes owned the whole island, including several businesses and production plants, so it wasn't necessary to have such a large facility underground. "I'm impressed. I hadn't clocked the generators."

Nami paused to glance at him over her shoulder with a sly smile. "I'm not surprised," she teased. "From what I saw from the balcony, you were too busy clocking me."

Law gently pushed the cub off his lap and onto the couch. He walked to the table as she retreated to her drafts, starting on the final of the 3 floors. Resting a hand on the back of her chair, he leaned over her to view her progress. He wanted to argue, but she was right. He should have seen that. He was off his game. "What favor did he ask of you?"

She paused her sketching before answering. "He didn't."

"I- That doesn't make sense. Why would he buy time leading you on this tour if it didn't involve the favor? He's hardly spoken two words to you before today. He wouldn't just decline the favor he went out of his way to get." He was worried. There were too many variables. He needed more information. When she didn't answer him immediately, he took Nami's hands in his own, knelt beside her, and turned her to look at him. "Nami-ya. What happened on that balcony?"

Nami thoughtfully stared back at him with big brown eyes. "Hardly anything, honestly. Before we walked out there, I was worried he was taking me somewhere to question me. That he was stalling with the tour to torture me or size me up. But when I opened the doors to the balcony, I realized he was waiting for the right view. For the sunset."

Law looked at her quizzically, but he waited in silence for her to continue.

"It was breathtaking." He couldn't help but frown as she continued. "It was weird though. He just stood behind me quietly while I took it all in. I almost forgot he was there." She half chuckled. "When he did speak, he told me he wouldn't ask me for the favor today. He gave me a den den mushi and said he'd be in touch within the week but gave no other information." She paused in thought. "When I saw the sunset I assumed he was interested in me the way his brothers are, but he never touched me. It should've been romantic but he just stood there like a statue... and I caught him frowning at my dress. It was the closest thing to an emotion he displayed the whole time."

Law hummed in thought but waited to speak in case there was anything else she would add.

"That was it. The sunset was quickly fading, and he told me we should get home before dark."

Law released her hands with another hum. He took the seat across from her and removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't like it."

"Welcome to the club," she mused.

He looked up at her. The hanging pendent light above the breakfast table cast shadows across her eyes underneath her bangs. She gazed thoughtfully over the maps as she bit her lip. Law dragged his own gaze from her lips and stared intently at the maps.

Collecting his thoughts, he spoke again, "I don't know exactly what the Vinsmokes' enhancements entail, but it is safe to say whatever chemicals involved have an affect on the skeletomuscular, neuroendocrine, and autonomic nervous systems. Increased speed, reaction time, strength; any enhancement like this would have to affect these in some way."

Nami looked up at him, waiting for him to explain what was clearly gibberish to her.

"These systems do a lot of things within the human body, including triggering bodily responses to emotional changes. They allow us to see how someone is feeling based on how they look. You might feel a lump in your throat and swallow hard, feel the flush of your cheeks when you blush, or clench your fists when you are angry. We know all three Vinsmoke brothers have been subjected to these enhancements. If Ichiji's ability to show or have normal emotions has been altered by their technology, it's curious that it doesn't seem to affect Niji or Yonji the same way." He paused to glance at Nami. "It's a theory. It would explain why he's not as emotive or predictable as his brothers. It's not uncommon for patients to react differently to the same treatment, even when the patients are siblings. There's also the possibility that Ichiji was given something more concentrated or maybe additional doses. When we can get a look at their research, we'll find out if our theory was correct."

"It's also possible that he just has a wet blanket for a personality," she added.

"Potentially," Law considered.

"If not though, if there are other side effects we didn't anticipate..." Nami trailed off.

Law looked at her again. She was starting to look as worried as he felt. He pulled out a den den mushi and started making a call.

After a few rings the black eyes opened, surrounded in white fur. A soft male voice answered, "Captain?"

Law watched Nami as he responded to the voice on the phone. "Bepo, it's good to hear your voice." Nami's eyes widened as she realized who he was talking to. She looked up and smiled. A lazy grin grew across his face. "We need your help."

*****

Nami struggled to sleep the next two nights. She was tired of waiting already. Bepo would take about three days to make the voyage to Germa, possibly longer if they had problems docking discreetly.

She received no call from Ichiji either. She wondered if this was actually the torture he had in store for her.

After Saturday, they agreed they needed to be more careful about what they leave lying around the apartment. The Vinsmokes had their address and moving locations wasn't an option. They weren't sure if it was in their heads, but both of them mentioned feeling a tingle down their spine as if they were being watched. Nami swore she saw the same black car that picked them up a few times and wondered just how many idling cars the Vinsmokes had on the island.

It was well after midnight as Nami stared up at the ceiling above her bed. Convinced sleep was out of the cards for a while, she peeked out of her room to see Law lounging on the couch with his eyes closed. The sleeping cub was curled up on his chest. It had taken them a while to coax it out of him, but the bear took to Law quickly and trusted him with his real name, Oso. She smiled at the sight. It reassured her that her decision was worth everything she might endure over the next week.

Nami silently crept behind the couch to the breakfast table. The maps she had created since coming to the island were safely hidden, but a few blank pages and pencils were left out. She lit a small candle, glancing back to make sure she hadn't woken either of them. When she was satisfied, she started sketching. It didn't take her long, even as she took slow, quiet strokes with her pencil. She had done this a thousand times. She traced the coast, the village, and finally the mikan grove that was the only real home she ever knew.

"What are you drawing?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Nami looked up to see golden eyes watching her over the back of the couch.

"I didn't mean to wake you. It's nothing important." She smiled softly.

Law carefully shifted the bear onto a pillow next to where his chest had been before sitting by her at the table. She continued sketching as he silently watched.

He took a few minutes to study her work. His voice was low as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "It may not be relevant to our mission, but it's obviously important." She relaxed a little despite his closeness.

"What makes you think that?" She whispered back.

"You've drawn this before. Many times I'd guess. Your strokes are soft but intentional, almost like a signature. Nothing like anything else I've seen you do."

She stopped to look at him but didn't respond.

"Nami-ya, why did you save Oso?" He asked suddenly, just as softly and quietly as before.

"I don't know," she lied. She fought hard to rein in the tears forming in her eyes as she looked away. An overwhelming loneliness tugged at her chest.

He slid his hand over hers on the table. Her brain told her to pull away, but the warmth of his skin was magnetic. His other hand caressed her cheek as he brushed away a fallen tear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have told you about Bepo. That wasn't part of the plan."

She looked at him and saw the genuine remorse in his eyes. "Don't be." Her voice shook slightly, but it steadied as she went on. "I don't regret anything. I'm glad you told me. It's just..."

She looked back at the map. Her desperate heart was winning out over her mind, and she resolved to shed some of the weight she forced herself to carry.

"This is Cocoyashi Village." She set down her pencil to place her free hand on the page. She pointed to the coast. "This was where we used to watch ships in the bay." Her hand traced along sections of the map as she continued to describe the different areas. "This was where I stole my first book. I thought Mayor Genzo was going to throw me in a cell." A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "This was Nako's office. He was the village doctor. We could barely even afford to eat, so we never went there except to try to sell him mikans."

She continued to speak. The more she described each location the lighter she felt. After going through the village buildings, she told him about the mikan grove and the small home she lived in. "This is where my mother saved our lives from Arlong." Her hand trailed to a sketch of a large tree at the edge of a cliff side. "And this is where my sister and I buried her."

Her hand was shaking over the map. "Her name was Bellemere." Silent tears began to fall again. "I just... I miss her." Nami struggled to get the words out. In an instant, she felt Law release her hand and pull her against his chest with one arm around her shoulders and the other cradling the back of her head. She leant into him, gripping tightly to the front of his shirt as she cried warm tears onto his clothing.

Nami knew he left his home at a young age but didn't know the circumstances. She took a risk sharing this with him, but she knew by the way he held her that he understood. He shared her pain.

After several minutes, she stopped crying and pulled away to collect herself. Law didn't speak but he remained close, watching her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

She sighed softly to herself. "Drawing this usually makes me feel better... Reminds me what I'm doing this for... so I never forget."

Law finally spoke, "You're trying to save your village?"

Nami stared hard at the map, taking in every detail. "No," she said so softly he almost didn't hear it. "Cocoyashi Village is a ghost town. There is only one person there who remains."

She knew Law was waiting for her to continue, but she had said all she was willing to say. She looked at him and put a hand on his shoulder, silently thanking him.

"You know, I think I'm ready to sleep after all." Her smile was slight but genuine. She folded the map a few times until it was small enough to fit in her hand. Law remained silent at the table as she retreated to her room. She slid the map inside her pillow case and laid down, finally finding the rest she desperately needed.

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#one piece #fanfic #nami #nami one piece #nami op #trafalgar law #nami x law #law x nami #lawnami #lawna #trafalgar d water law #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke ichiji

[sherrylephotography]

My photography @sherrylephotography

May 2023 Sunset rooftop tour of the Seville Cathedral, Spain.

So happy that we were able to get this tour.

#original photography on tumblr #seville #seville cathedral #sunset rooftop tour #travel #spain #spain vacation #no edit

[operafantomet]

Hi, so I have a question that may be a little difficult to answer but one I'm very curious about, so here goes: what variation of each christine costume would you say is the most historically accurate? Like has the most explicit historical references or has the most period flare? Sorry if it's a bit vague, but I'm just happy to hear your thoughts. Thanks!

Ooooh. That is a hard one indeed. If we can be a bit flexible with what historical reference we're talking about it should be do-able. For example, many Hannibal Slavegirl bodices seems to lean towards the 1910s and 1920s. So they are period, just not Victorian era period. Same for elements in the other mock operas and in Masquerade. Anyhow...

I love the drama of the US Hannibal Slavegirl costumes. The bold Egyptian revival tiaras, the bra-like bust deco, the heavy beading. It very much reminds me of the early silent era movie designs. Especially Sarah Brightman’s original tiara with dangling ear pieces!

For Elissa I always felt there was a strong influence from Minoan snake goddess statuettes. There’s something about the long skirts with decorated hem and draped aprons, and bodices with “bare” breasts. Although the Elissa costumes has gotten increasingly splendid and larger these last 30 years, I always had a weak spot for Rosemary Ashe’s original West End look, where the Elissa costume gives us a bustle shape to reflect on the Victorian era, but also a silhouette and details reminding of the Minoan figurines. I think much of the same applies for a wide range of early Christine costumes, be it German, US or Australian. So it’s not so much a specific costume; rather than the silhouette is still conical and bustle like, and there’s visible details like the X-decorated hem, curved apron and “bare” breasts. Here’s an early Broadway skirt worn by Rebecca Luker, next to the so called larger Minoan snake goddess: 

For the dressing gown it feels more like Maria Bjørnson wants to give us a movie moment. The dressing gown itself is a phenomenon, a silhouette, a total look. It is lending from Edwardian frolick splendour rather than the Victorian era. But also... Romy Schneider as Sissi, anyone? From dressing gown to flowing hair to boudour with mirror and flowers. She’s literally quoting this scene in the visuals:

For Il Muto it always felt like they were going for fun Rococo rather than period rococo. They are theatrical and larger than life, the 18th century seen through a Victorian lense, so to speak.The ones going the most period also move away from the design (like some of the German “Rococo” dresses). I will therefore not spend very much time on these, but I want to mention the Australian/World Tour Serafimo look, with a shirt/blouse that is discrete and V-shaped in the neckline, but with huge sleeves and black bows, to match the black breeches. Such a cool period look. Here it’s paired with one of my favourite illustrations, “An Actress at her Toilet, or Miss Brazen just Breecht“ by John Collet (1775).

For the Rooftop I always wondered if Maria Bjørnson gave us another movie moment. The original West End and Broadway Rooftop dresses put next to Shirley Temple as Marie Antoinette in “Heidi”...! The West End dresses even had the big bows at bodice front, while the Broadway dresses did the multiple-layer petticoat. The costume since changed a lot, into a heavier and more beaded attire with almost Prussian equestrial decorations. It’s an interesting creature... Here’s Maria Kesselman in West End, and Shirley Temple in Heidi:

Now, the Star Princess... There are many 18th and 19th century costumes playing with allegories on day and night, sun and moon, sunset, night sky, time and so forth. I think the Star Princess can be read into this tradition. She may be Aurora, bringing the day light. She may be a celestrial goddess, a star. She may be an allegory of time passing. Add that the early versions of this costume gave Christine a tutu, reflecting on her status as a ballet dancer. I love that, and think it’s a lovely period feature. Hence, tutu-like skirts and a clear star/moon symbolism is where I feel I see period influence. For example an original/early Broadway costume worn by Brigit Brady, next to an allegory of day and night (seen here is “night”):

For hardcore period details in the Wishing costumes I always loved the little twists seen in the Canadian and Australian dresses. For the Canadian ones they did huge skirt and short bodice - very 1870s - along with spiral stripe pattern on the sleeves and oversized cuffs. More or less the spitting image of an 1870s fashion plate!

The Australia ones, on the other hand, did narrower V-shaped neckline which are sometimes high-necked in the back, as well as uniquely pleated main skirts. Very cool period flair.

For Aminta, I again get ballet costume vibes. “Spanish costume” was a repertoire dress for the 19th century ballet world, and the Aminta costume leans into this tradition: often pink or red dress with black lace, bell shaped skirts, bodice with defined stomacher. Here’s one example of Fanny Elssler in “Spanish costume”, next to a West End dress (worn by Maria Coyne) as I always felt they did exeptionally well-fitted bodices and stomachers, and the very period-appropriate small apron:

But the Aminta costume also reflects on 18th century European fashion, with the zone front so popular in the 1780s and 1790s. Here’s from a 1780s fashion plate:

For the wedding dress... A very hard one. On one hand there’s been so many lovely takes on it, with small gorgeous details and amazing silhouettes. On the other hand it’s one of those costumes becoming more and more theatrical, like the Rooftop one. First time I saw a good photos of Sarah Brightman’s Broadway dress, however, I was floored. It looks like they fitted her with a goddamn museum piece - and I mean that in a good way! The very rich fabric, the softness of the whole look, the wider sleeves, the small buttons, and not all that... stuff decorating the bodice. Man. So my vote totally goes to that one. Here it’s paired with an 1880s wedding dress bodice from The Met:

For each example mentioned here I could mention probably ten more... So it’s just to get a glimpse of possible inspiration, similar designs and/or my personal take on it all.

#phantom of the opera #maria bjørnson #costume nerding #christine daae #historical fashion

[loving-apparitions]

Oh yeah, Empress likes a good high adrenaline yet romantic date. And she has a lot of manpower (catpower?) to get access to all sorts of places in the city. Rooftops, penthouses, or other top floor locations are great for making an impression. So a fancy, private dinner on a rooftop is absolutely something she would arrange.

Assuming you're not too scared of heights, she'd love to thrill you by securing the highest rooftop in the city for an evening date. She'd bring you just early enough that you can watch the sunset together. She's had her underlings decorate with string lights, a canopy, the coziest outdoor chairs, a small table, and a telescope. She's brought along two pairs of binoculars as well, and ordered some fine food and drink be left for when you arrive.

She loves treating you to a good meal while you converse and take in the scenery. You can leave the lights on to see by as it gets dark, or switch them off to better see the light of the stars and city. And with her binoculars, you can gaze at several buildings, trains, and sometimes cats beneath you. She's a bit nosy, so if you go peeking through binoculars, she'll need to as well. She wants to try to spy on cats.

You're never in danger of falling, as she's incredibly quick and perceptive. If you start to topple, she'll grab you instantly. This won't stop her from teasing you, though. She'll make remarks about how you might slip, and it's an awfully long fall, and it's rather dangerous even if you land on your feet. Usually if she says such a thing, though, she has a paw on your waist and is pulling you closer to her chest. You can tell by her smirk and playful tone that she's not really concerned about you being in danger, but she sure likes to remind you how risky this is, while subtly implying that she'll rescue you.

What Empress really loves is to see your eyes widen, hear your breath change, and feel you huddle closer to her. She loves to see the thrill you get. She finds it easier to excite you herself, too. She'll take the opportunity of this setting to be more teasing and flirtatious with you, by almost-but-never-touching-kissing you, whispering in your ear, pulling you in by the waist, running her paw pads down your back.

Some other thrilling dates she may take you on: Riding a Cat Train - on top of the train; axe throwing or a shooting range; helicopter tour; tour of dangerous places; bungee jumping; amusement park.

Her choice for a high adrenaline date is factored by both her limits and yours. She doesn't want anything that may involve getting wet, such as white water rafting. She also isn't scared of the supernatural, although she's open to experiencing such an attraction if you're interested.

She makes sure she has a sense of security in case anything does go wrong, like picking venues with good safety measures, or having underlings nearby.

And of course, if there's anything you're truly terrified of, she won't force you into it. It should be thrilling, but not terrifying.

#a hat in time x reader #empress x reader #imagines #a hat in time x reader romantic #empress x reader romantic #romantic

[luvcraze]

Ideas for Local Places Couples can Enjoy Together

1. Botanical Gardens:

Explore the beauty of nature together by visiting a local botanical garden. Take romantic strolls through lush gardens, admire colorful flowers, and enjoy peaceful moments surrounded by greenery.

2. Local Parks:

Spend quality time together in a nearby park. Pack a picnic and enjoy a meal outdoors, go for a leisurely walk or bike ride, or simply relax on a blanket and watch the world go by.

3. Scenic Lookouts:

Seek out scenic viewpoints or lookout points in your area where you can enjoy breathtaking views together. Whether it's a hilltop, a rooftop terrace, or a waterfront promenade, watching the sunset or city lights can be incredibly romantic.

4. Cafés and Coffee Shops:

Discover cozy cafés and coffee shops in your neighborhood where you can enjoy intimate conversations over cups of coffee or tea. Find a quiet corner, sip your favorite beverages, and savor sweet treats together.

5. Local Wineries or Breweries:

Take a tour of a nearby winery or brewery and sample local wines or craft beers. Learn about the production process, indulge in tastings, and toast to your relationship with a glass of your favorite beverage.

6. Art Galleries or Museums:

Get cultured together by visiting local art galleries or museums. Appreciate the beauty of paintings, sculptures, and exhibits, and discuss your favorite pieces with each other.

7. Farmers' Markets:

Explore farmers' markets in your area and enjoy browsing fresh produce, artisanal goods, and handmade crafts. Sample local delicacies, pick out ingredients for a romantic dinner at home, and support local vendors.

8. Outdoor Concerts or Events:

Check out outdoor concerts, festivals, or events happening in your community. Enjoy live music, performances, or cultural celebrations together under the open sky.

9. Historic Sites or Landmarks:

Learn about the history of your local area by visiting historic sites, landmarks, or heritage buildings. Take guided tours, explore architectural wonders, and immerse yourselves in the stories of the past.

10. Cooking Classes or Workshops:

Sign up for cooking classes or workshops together and learn new culinary skills. Whether it's baking bread, making pasta, or mastering sushi rolls, cooking together can be a fun and rewarding experience.

11. Hiking Trails:

Explore nearby hiking trails or nature reserves and enjoy outdoor adventures together. Take in scenic views, breathe in fresh air, and bond over shared experiences in nature.

12. Beaches or Lakes:

Spend a day at the beach or lake soaking up the sun and enjoying water activities such as swimming, paddleboarding, or kayaking. Pack a beach bag with snacks, sunscreen, and towels for a relaxing day by the water.

13. Bookstores or Libraries:

Get lost in the aisles of a local bookstore or library and discover new reads together. Browse through shelves of books, share recommendations, and find cozy nooks to read aloud to each other.

14. Food Trucks or Street Food Markets:

Seek out food trucks or street food markets in your area and embark on a culinary adventure together. Sample a variety of dishes from different vendors and enjoy a casual and delicious dining experience.

15. Local Theaters or Performing Arts Centers:

Support local arts and culture by attending performances at theaters or performing arts centers in your community. Enjoy live theater productions, concerts, or dance performances for a memorable date night.

16. Farm-to-Table Restaurants:

Dine at farm-to-table restaurants or farm-to-fork eateries that showcase locally sourced ingredients and seasonal menus. Experience the flavors of your region while supporting sustainable and eco-friendly dining establishments.

17. Community Gardens or Urban Farms:

Volunteer or visit community gardens or urban farms in your area and get your hands dirty together. Help plant, tend to, or harvest fruits and vegetables while learning about sustainable gardening practices.

18. DIY Workshops or Classes:

Take part in DIY workshops or classes that interest both of you, such as pottery, painting, photography, or home decor. Get creative together and unleash your artistic talents while learning new skills.

19. Historical Walking Tours:

Join historical walking tours or heritage trails led by local guides and explore the rich history of your city or town. Discover hidden gems, architectural landmarks, and fascinating stories from the past.

20. Outdoor Yoga or Fitness Classes:

Attend outdoor yoga or fitness classes held in parks or green spaces in your area. Stretch, sweat, and strengthen your bodies together while enjoying the beauty of the outdoors and staying active as a couple.

These local date ideas offer couples the opportunity to bond, connect, have fun, explore, and create cherished memories without having to travel far from home. Strengthening their relationship right in their own backyard. Whether it's exploring nature, supporting local businesses, or learning new skills, there's no shortage of ways to enjoy quality time together in your local area.

#in love #love #love language #lovers #couple #couples #i love her #i love him #i love you #love quotes #date ideas #date night #partner #family #married life #married #boyfriend #girlfriend #couple goals #cheap #ideas #idea #cute #self care #self love #self motivation #beach #garden #books & libraries #books

[sofia-the-traveller]

Things to do in Mumbai

Mumbai activities that consider the city’s extensive history, eclectic culture, mouthwatering cuisine, and well-known landmarks. This improved tour provides a more thorough look at this vibrant city:

Mumbai, often known as Bombay, is the financial and entertainment center of India. It is a city that is continually busy. Here, tradition, culture, and modernity all coexist to give visitors an extraordinary and one-of-a-kind experience. One of your first destinations should be the magnificent Gateway of India, a symbol of Mumbai’s past and a well-liked expedition starting point. Some of the best specimens of Victorian Gothic architecture can be found in the surrounding historic Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The museums in Mumbai maintain its cultural heritage. Visit the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya to discover how art and history are entwined and the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Institute to learn about the history of the city.

There is a sensory explosion of sights, sounds, and smells in Mumbai’s crowded markets. The well-known retail district Colaba Causeway is where you can find a wide selection of apparel, jewelry, handicrafts, and souvenirs. Contrarily, Crawford Market is a bustling center for locally grown foods, spices, and other pleasures. While visiting these marketplaces, don’t forget to try some of Mumbai’s renowned street cuisine. The city’s street food culture is a gastronomic journey all on its own with dishes like the hot vada pav, delicious pav bhaji, and tangy bhel puri.

To get a taste of Mumbai’s diversity, visit Dharavi, one of Asia’s largest slums, where you can take a guided tour and hear about the resilience and creativity of its residents. This in-depth encounter will put your prejudices to the test, and you’ll leave with a newfound respect for the feeling of community in the area.

Take a stroll down Marine Drive, often known as the Queen’s Necklace due to its brilliant nighttime lights, to fully experience Mumbai’s coastal allure. Because of the spectacular views of the Arabian Sea at sunset, both locals and tourists love this promenade.

Get out of the congested city streets and explore the mysterious Elephanta Caves. From Mumbai, you can immediately take a ferry to Elephanta Island, where you can explore historic rock-cut tunnels decorated with incredible sculptures and carvings, including the well-known Trimurti sculpture.

The old and the contemporary coexist in Mumbai, a city of contrasts. Although it is a thriving metropolis, it values its spiritual past. Mumbai’s religious diversity is honored by the majestic mosque known as Haji Ali Dargah, which is located on an island in the Arabian Sea and offers a calm sanctuary from the activity of the city. An additional sacred place and a representation of the city’s devotion is the Siddhivinayak Temple, which is devoted to Lord Ganesha.

Consider taking a day excursion to Sanjay Gandhi National Park, a huge oasis in the middle of the urban jungle, if you’re looking for a closer connection with nature. Hike through the area’s lush vegetation, take in the Kanheri Caves’ old Buddhist sculptures, and maybe you’ll even spot some local species like deer and leopards.

As soon as the sun goes down, Mumbai’s thriving nightlife bursts to life. Among other fun locations, rooftop bars and live music venues provide views of the Arabian Sea. If you really want to comprehend Mumbai, go see a Bollywood film in one of its best theaters. You’ll get a taste of the glamour and drama of Mumbai’s Bollywood thanks to this cultural encounter.

Mumbai’s inhabitants also referred to as Mumbaikars, are a testament to the city’s tenacity in a context defined by its frenetic speed and ambition. Mumbai is more than just a tourist destination because of the people’s tenacity, kindness, and feeling of community; it is an encounter that will have a lasting effect on your heart and spirit. Mumbai offers a fascinating voyage full of discoveries and activities, whether you want to experience the city’s vibrant energy or go sightseeing and eat street food.

Conclusion

In Mumbai, every street has a distinct history to share, every turn is an exhilarating journey, and every encounter with a local is precious. Mumbai is a lovely, energetic city. For travelers seeking an exciting and engaging experience, this city is a must-visit destination because it has many facets and embodies India’s past, present, and future. Whether you’re exploring iconic landmarks like the Gateway of India or savoring the vibrant street food scene, every moment in Mumbai is enriched by the city’s vibrant spirit. When it’s time to rest and recharge, the Empresa Hotel comfortable and convenient haven amidst the bustling streets, ensuring your stay in this dynamic city is both memorable and enjoyable. The hotel is marveled with immaculate rooms, exquisite dining halls, rooftop lounges, banquet halls, and a myriad of other best-in-class facilities. It is located in the midst of Lokhandwala which is full of energy fun shopping and food.

#Mumbai #Things to do in mumbai #hotel in mumbai #travel blog #travel bloger #hotel #travel #traveling #travel in mumbai #tourists