halftheworldaway

───

1995.

you wake up to the maddening sound of the telephone. you roll over in bed like a dead body, a deep groan escaping your lips. you rub your eyes and flip off the covers from your body.

you pad across the wooden floors of your flat barefoot, only in your lacy panties and a white tank top. you run a steady hand through your messy hair, sweeping it out of your face so you can guide yourself towards the telephone.

"what?" you groan, slamming the telephone against your ear.

"have you seen the news?!" someone asks over the phone. you winced at the sound, practically yelling against your ear.

you squint your eyes. "sam? that you?" you ask with a yawn.

your manager never calls this early on a saturday. "yes, now turn on your fuckin' telly!" she yells again.

"mkay," you yawn, almost tripping over your lazy feet as you scurry to the sofa and grab the remote resting on the glass coffee table. the second you press the 'ON' button, your telly comes to life and your name is plastered on the screen in bolded black letters.

"what the fuck," you mutter under your breath, rubbing your un-adjusted eyes until they could see clearly. on the screen, a video of liam gallagher's face is playing, a reporter asking him questions about you.

again.

a few years ago, a video just like this haunted you. liam talking to reporters drunk out of his mind, rambling about God knows what, and your name seemed to spill from his lips. you remember all of it, all of the anger that boiled inside of you.

"do you really fancy her, then?" the reporter places the light to shine on liam's face.

"yeah." liam responds, taking a drag from his cig.

"are you gonna go for her?" the reporter asks.

"nah. she's gonna go for me." he blows the cigarette smoke out past his lips, a cocky expression on his face.

───

°˖➴

six thirty.

the dreaded hour.

you lazily slam your hand onto your buzzing alarm clock, letting the piercing sound finally cease.

you groan once, running a hand down your face as you squint from the sunlight peeking through the silky curtains in your bedroom.

you trudge towards the bathroom, your feet dragging on the cold tile as you position yourself at the sink.

you look up at your reflection in the foggy mirror, your hair a crazy mess from sleep, deep eye bags, and chapped lips.

you sigh, let out a loud yawn, and then start the makeover process.

one. shower & shave.

two. brush your teeth & skincare.

three. journal.

it's stupid, really. your neverending, gigantic crush on your boss which never seems to end in the words, "it was just a phase."

every morning you'd enter something in your small, pink diary; the one with far too many dried up coffee and lipstick stains on each page.

you'd write about your day at the office, your day as his employee, and if you were lucky, what he said if he noticed you.

noel gallagher is the one and only mr. right for you. he's perfect, polished, talented, and...well maybe polished is the part you had done up in your head. he's loud. annoyed very easily; and always complaining. whenever he sees you, he never remembers your name, so he'll call you "birdie".

this morning's entry is all about your interaction with him yesterday.

and it all went like this.

you sip your coffee at your desk, spinning around in your cushioned office chair. a pile of papers for oasis's upcoming tour sits in front of your face, and you dread opening it. noel had probably marked new additions to the tour that you had already completed, and now you'd have to re-do it all over again. your job: review contracts, submit tour requests by each band member and report approval of each request that was confirmed.

"y/n." matt, your (favorite) coworker slams his hands on your desk, jolting you to life. you're mid sip, so startled that hot coffee splatters all over your new white blouse.

"shit!" you gasp, gently sucking your thumb that burns with the spill of hot coffee.

"whoops." matt sucks his teeth shortly before handing you a tissue.

"thanks." you mutter while snatching the tissue, blotching as much of the brown coffee stains as you could off your pretty blouse.

"didn't mean to scare ya, but james needs you in room six."

"what for?" you toss the tissue into the garbage can, placing the coffee cup down on your desk.

"noel. he wants to review the contracts you were given to review yesterday." matt says while adjusting his ugly blue tie. you won't tell him you hate it because he's your best friend, but it's the most hideous tie you've ever laid eyes on. the tiny vibrant dolphins on the fabric could get him fired if you were in charge of the office.

your eyes widen, trying to focus on his statement rather than the Ugly Dolphin Tie.

"uhhhmmmm..." you start, trying to remember if you even packed those contracts. you didn't know they were due today.

matt squints his eyes, eager for your answer.

"here we go." you bite your lip, pulling out about one hundred thin files you reviewed last night.

you were up till midnight with the papers in front of you, watching "pretty woman" and painting your toenails a sexy red color that noel will never see, considering you wear black ballet flats to the office every day.

"good. room six, remember? mr. gallagher isn't a very patient man," matt sings as he hurries back towards his desk.

you shoot him an "i'm aware," before stacking the papers into your arms and moving down the hall towards room six.

you stand in front of the large glass door, looking inside to see an angry noel sat at the long conference table. he's shaking his head, clearly disappointed by something. maybe it has to do with the misconception with the roadie. he quit for 'blur' last minute.

you take a deep breath while trying to keep your heart on a leash in your chest. it's about to jump out at just the sight of his cloudy blue eyes.

noel lifts his head, his eyes scanning past the glass doors and landing on you. your heart goes feral as warmth rises to your face, your cheeks flaming red.

his eyes trail down to your shirt, and for a second your brain thinks he's finally catching how amazing your sense of style is...or maybe he's shamelessly eyeing your tits. you look down like the weirdo you are, but for once, you're glad you did.

the fuckass coffee stain.

which now makes one section of your blouse see-through, your maroon colored bra you just bought peeking through your shirt.

noel tried his best to hide a laugh.

seriously, matt?

one of your bosses follows noel's gaze, pointing at you through the glass. you are officially embarrassed. "there she is!" you hear someone say muffled, reaching for the door.

the glass door flew open, and your face is as red as the bold lipstick shade that's lying in your purse underneath your desk.

"hi." you greet the room with a loud sigh, without making eye contact, setting the stack of papers down on the large table.

noel's eyes don't leave yours for a second. he's waiting for a proper "hello" from you.

your eyes slowly advance from the expensive glass table with cursed coffee mugs on it to noel sitting at the head of the table.

a smirk teases his lips and his fingers scratch lightly against his stubble. he's watching your every movement, the way he's leaning back in his office chair like he owns the place. well, y'know maybe he does. he's the rockstar. he's the whole reason for your company.

you clear your throat, trying to distract yourself from the incredibly gorgeous-without-any-effort type of man that sits across from you.

"mr. gallagher." you say a little firmer this time.

his eyes widen at the way you choose to address him. "morning." he greets you back with a tiny smile, clearly amused by your entrance.

"matt said something about contracts?" you avert your eyes while placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

your eyes try to focus on anything other than noel. you try the coffee pot. it makes you even more angry. maybe the man next to you? okay, he has a weird staring problem. back to noel it is.

"mhm." he takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes not leaving yours.

you can't help it. your eyes fall to his lips shamelessly. you curse yourself for it.

he clears his throat which drew your attention back to his face.

"good coffee, hm?" he said while leaning back in his chair, then nodded towards your stained blouse.

your cheeks flamed even hotter. you needed to get out of there.

"clumsy me." you muttered with a tiny shrug.

"your name is?" noel asked quickly while reaching for a contract at your end of the table.

the tiny patch of chest hair that peeks out of his shirt as he reaches over has you captivated for a split second before you remind yourself to stay focused.

you gulp as you told him your name.

he repeats it once, and then he reaches for a pen next to him. noel pops open the cap with his teeth, then signs his name at the end of the contract with black ink.

"send this out for me, will ya birdie?" he asks politely as he capped the pen.

your mouth goes dry as you nod slowly. yep. he forgot. like always. but you didn't care.

"mhm." you squeak out, taking his paper and tucking it under your arm.

you head towards the doors as quickly as possible.

"oh, and" he calls you back with a finger pointed in the air.

your head swivels around to look at noel, your fingers tightening on the glass doors with every second that passes.

"i've always liked the color maroon." he says while leaning back in his chair.

your expression drops as your face goes as white as the creamer the barista pumped into your coffee this morning.

you stare for a while, his words replaying in your head one million times over. did he really just say that? is it all in your head? it's confirmed once he tilts his head and widens his eyes, even more amused by your surprised expression.

you head for the door, making sure you hear it click before letting out a massive sigh. "holy fuck" you breathe out as you pull stray hairs back and straighten your browned blouse.

you turn around once more, not expecting to catch noel's eyes still on you. your heart leaps in your chest as his lips bend into a dangerous smirk.

your breath hitches, and you turn your head as quickly as possible, hoping he didn't notice how pink and stupid your face turned. you dash down the hallway, far away from room six.

°˖➴

and now here you are, every morning you sit with your diary, entering your thoughts and experiences with noel gallagher into your little pink notebook.

you sit in your bed, kicking your legs against your wooden headboard as the black ink glides across your loose leaf page. you wrote about an interaction each day you had one. and this one had to be the most embarrassing, yet your favorite. no matter how hot you felt your face get, he had spoken to you. maybe you were a little delusional, but at least you were able to speak back. and he had commented on your bra.

your cheeks got hot just remembering his face when he said it. the way he tilted his head. the way he smiled. the way his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t even identify; you were so lost in him. 

you're going mad. and you pray to God he would just get your name right. you write about the coffee, about your stupid loss for words, about the bra, about his radiant smile.

you stand in front of your closet for at least ten minutes deciding on a blouse that's dark enough and coffeestain-proof. you are not going to unintentionally tease noel gallagher again. it's far too embarrassing. 

dark blue blouse. long sleeve. perfect.

black skirt? no, it looks like you were attending a funeral or a really depressing goth wedding.

you settle on a white blouse after praying you'll be careful and stay away from coffee today. the black skirt goes well with the white blouse. you pair the outfit with some ruffle socks and your signature black ballet flats. right when you are about to leave, you notice small paint chips at the edges of your flats. you frown, grabbing a black marker and filling in the chipped spots until you can buy new ones this weekend. 

you head out the door around seven thirty. you had made sure you looked nice, your lips covered in strawberry lip balm and your hair is slicked back with fine gel so you won't have your hands fiddling with loose strands during the day. 

inside your brown purse lay your water bottle, a pair of sneakers to change out of just in case your feet get cut on the back of your flats, extra hair ties, pens, and your diary. you don't know why, but you carry it everywhere. on your lunch break you'll journal at the nearest park and will plan your weekends on the back of the notebook- because yes, the other half is an organized planner and you are running out of diary space. 

“morning, matt” you pat his desk as he gives you a tiny wave and then mouths to you, “im on a meeting”

you suck your teeth before gesturing with your hands that your mouth is zipped. then, you scurry over to your desk and take out all your belongings, setting up your computer and checking your mailbox for any new information you had to review for oasis’s upcoming tour. 

one letter from miriam lays in your mailbox. you squint and turn the letter over, ripping open its envelope. inside are details for a celebration for the release of “be here now”. 

it reads, 

hey! i couldn’t type this online or else i would risk the whole company seeing this. dropping this in your box because i just got word of a release party! please please please wear something sexy! i know how you can be, but please risk it all and trash those ballet flats. y’know, i saw them chipping at the edges yesterday. 

you look down at the chipped spot that is now covered with a small frown. 

anyway, i heard there’s gonna be drinks and karaoke. and the hot one never comes to these things, but i heard he is! gonna shoot my shot with liam if you know what i mean  -miriam

P.S. its tomorrow night :)

you chuckle at the last section. miriam has a massive crush on liam. she isn't your best friend, but you know her from around the office. she is the queen of gossip and is always making an excuse to send you some sneaky notes in your mailbox that are totally classified as "along the lines of getting fired" just by the way she writes to you about liam. it’s a good thing she doesn't know you have eyes for noel, she’d go and tell the whole office.

but tomorrow night? how are you gonna show up to a fancy release party? you only have one nice dress in your closet which probably isn't even release-party-appropriate. (the only time you wore it was to a wedding).

"matt." your hands land on his desk, and he gazes up at you with suspicious eyes.

"you never come to my desk during work hours. what's the emergency?" he asks, his tone careful.

you squint. are you a bad friend? whatever. not right now.

"do you have any good...shopping places?" you scratch your forehead nervously.

"sit down, hon." he pats the office chair next to him, and you scoot closer to him on the gray carpet.

"i need a dress for the release party." you admit, your voice going quiet.

"damn, shit spreads fast. i only heard about it this morning." matt shakes his head.

"i know!- wait, did miriam send you a note too?" you exclaim.

people around the office turn their heads at your excitement, clearly annoyed by your loud voice. you smack a palm against your mouth, sinking deeper into the office chair.

"no..." matt says cautiously with a chuckle. "charlie told me."

you nod in understanding.

"miriam's allowed to send you notes?" his eyebrow perks up.

"uhhh...no." you avoid his gaze and start picking at a tiny hole in your tights that will eventually get bigger the more you touch it.

he laughs and then shakes his head. "so, you need a dress."

you nod once.

"from a....shopping place?" he smiles at your choice of words.

you sigh deeply. "i don't know, like the mall or sumthin'?"

he stares at you blankly. "hon." he starts suspiciously.

you scoot even closer, ready to listen to your fashion icon. if anyone can help you, it's matt. he used to study fashion but dropped out cause his company didn't pay as well as other companies outside of london. he loves to say he's still working with "the arts of fashion" even though he is managing the most famous and most chaotic band of your time.

"do you still buy your clothes at the mall?" he asks while reaching for your hand.

"no! it was just a suggestion." you shake your head quickly.

you totally still buy your clothes at the mall.

"okay, well we need to get you something nice from the fancy stores on the boardwalk."

your lips part. "that's expensive."

"yup." he nods enthusiastically. "but they have super nice stuff."

you listen carefully as he feeds you highly important fashion information.

"try tessa's."

you nod your head and repeat the name on your lips a few times.

"mhm." he nods slowly. "got it?"

"i got it." you give him a smile, and then you thank him for his help.

instead of returning to your desk, you pop by miriam's cubicle. hers is fancier than yours; she has a door. no fair.

you knock once on the glass door, and she jumps in her seat. she's eating her lunch, which is odd considering it's eight in the morning. you can hear her muffled behind the door, but she waves you inside and says "come in!" enthusiastically.

you step inside with a kind smile, closing the door behind you.

it didn't even properly click shut before she asks, "did ya get my note?" with wide eyes as she wipes her mouth with a white napkin and places it down next to her cesar salad.

"uh, yeah." you adjust your skirt and approach her desk.

"i need your advice," you begin quietly. then you clear your throat. if you're gonna ask her this, you have to be confident about it. "on like..." you scratched your neck. "what to wear?" you cringe at the words.

she squints. "m'kay," she closes her plastic salad box and clasps her hands together in her lap. "for the party?"

"yeah. but like, not a dress." you clarify, fiddling with your fingers behind your back.

she nods slowly.

"and like, i have a dress shop already, so yeah. that's why i...said that." you chuckle nervously, not even making proper sense anymore.

"uhm, so it's not shoes, cause you said they were chippin' and i gotta get new ones, but-"

"you want me to help you buy lingerie?" miriam blinks.

busted.

fuck. how'd she know?

"what? why would you- no." your cheeks grow pink.

you can never ask matt for that.

"you know i'm gonna tell you to go 'the chateau' for that." miriam licks her finger once and flips open a notebook page, ripping out one piece and writing down the address of the store.

you take it, and then examine the address. it's one block away from 'tessa's.'

"thanks," you say shyly, tucking the paper into the pocket of your cardigan.

you try to slip outside, but she stops you.

"why do you need lingerie for the release party?"

you freeze, your back to her. you close your eyes and mutter a curse under your breath.

"uhh," you turn around with a fake smile, fiddling with your hands.

"just cause?" you admit cautiously.

"okay," she hums, spinning around in her chair and flicking her short brown curls behind her shoulder. "you don't want to impress anyone?" she shimmies her shoulders playfully.

you nearly wince at the action she just did. and you will never open your mouth about your crush on noel.

"nope. i just ran out." you say confidently with a clearing of your throat.

"you ran out of lingerie? Jesus, how many did'ya have?" she says with a loud chuckle.

great, now she thinks you're a stripper outside of the office.

"not a lot, that's why..." you stop yourself, not wanting to get caught in more lies. "anyway, it's not for the party, I just happen to run out around the party's date." you chuckle nervously again.

what the fuck were you even saying?

her eyebrows lift with a slow nod. "ah."

wait- didn't you tell her its for the party? whatever- focus.

"uhh, i gotta run. thanks for that." you give her a small wave, slipping out of her cubicle before she can ask you any more follow up questions.

°˖➴

you have your earbuds in, pink floyd's "the wall" playing as you departed the bus. your black boots hit the wood of the boardwalk, and you remove your sunglasses, looking up at 'tessa's' dress shop. you take in a deep breath, removing one earbud and pulling the door open.

a jingle sings above your head, and all heads turn to you in the store. a woman greets you hello, and you smile back with a small wave. you travel around the store, utterly confused about what you're looking for. what type of dress is suitable for a release party?

then, someone taps your shoulder. it shakes you to life, and you drop the expensive leather dress between your fingers. you turn around, removing the other earbud and giving the woman in front of you a smile.

"hi. do you need help with anything?" she asks with a creepily large grin.

you smile back and consider her question before denying her like you would in any other store where the staff is overly bothersome.

"yeah, actually." you titter lightly.

"what can i help you with?" she clasps her hands in front of her stylish brown belt and dress pants, looking like she just walked out of a political magazine.

"I need a dress for a release party, but I'm not sure which is suitable for the event." you explain to her.

she taps her chin. "you'd want to be looking at cocktail dresses, darling."

she guides you to the back of the store where a beautiful rack of cocktail dresses lay, all shiny and silky and waiting to be bought.

matt was right. this place is expensive but has very beautiful varieties of fabrics.

you try on three, and the same woman who helped you to the back of the store waits for you to try on each one. she says they normally don't have lots of customers because of the weighted prices, and usually richer tourists arrive on the weekends- not on random thursdays after work.

"i love that one." she claps her hands as you step out past the curtain in the dressing room.

you blush, running your hands down the lacy black fabric.

"marjorie, come look at her!" the woman who you now know her name is tessa, the owner of the store yells.

marjorie erupts from behind the counter and her eyes widen.

"oh, that's the one." she points her finger up and down at your figure.

"you have nice hips, i must say." she nods eagerly.

"thank you," you giggle.

"what about the white one, though?" you point back at a silky white dress that comes with a matching neck scarf hanging on a gold hook.

"i think this one is sexier. more bold." tessa points out with a tilt of her head.

"i agree." marjorie states.

tessa lifts off the cushion and walks over to you in the middle of the dressing room, adjusting the dress at your waist.

"i like the tight fit near the waist, don't you think?" she asks you with a safety pin secured between her teeth.

you nod your head.

"there. all done." she smiles, tapping your shoulder so you can look in the long mirror behind you. you turn around, absolutely astonished by the sight in front of you.

"whoa." you breathe out, eyeing the material and the way it grabs your waist so perfectly.

"that's the one." tessa whispers while squeezing your shoulder.

you laugh and nod your head.

°˖➴

after that purchase, you know you can't spend like that for a while, but you almost never treat yourself. it feels good. next stop, 'the chateau'. you hope there are nice ladies in that store that can help you find things.

you walk inside, the light pink walls and black polka dots all around the store are almost blinding you. you haven't been in one of these in a while, considering you do online shopping and find nice underwear in the catalogs you were sent.

your earbuds are back in, the song "young lust" blasting loudly in your ears.

you can't hear, but one woman waves to you and mouths the words, "good afternoon" and you just nod with a smile. you travel deeper into the store, looking for the lingerie section. hell, the whole store is full of lingerie but you really just need tinier panties and a suitable bra.

you find the tinier-panties-section and your eyes widen at each one. how the fuck is that called underwear? you shake off the thought and pick up another one with a chuckle.

you have always lived in a shadow at work. the only two people who know you are matt, because he's your best friend, and miriam because she knows everyone and as much as everyone's business as she can. not even noel can remember your name for christ's sake-

a tap on your shoulder.

it's probably just a worker.

you're holding a pair of lacy black panties as you turn around to address the worker.

your eyes trail up to the person in front of you, until they widen a large amount and your cheeks flush hot.

noel???

definitely not a worker!!

he's smiling down at you, his hands are jammed in the pockets of his denim jeans. his eyes dart down to the panties in your hand, and you immediately close your eyes in embarrassment.

"hey, birdie." he greets you, tilting his head, trying to get your eyes to meet his again.

"hi mr. gallagher." your voice is small.

"whatcha buyin' there?" he asks, nodding towards the lace bunch in your hands.

"nothing." you throw it back into the pile behind you.

shit. shit. shit.

he chuckles, and then for the tiniest second his eyes drag down to your lips. "uhh...what are you doing here?" you clear your throat.

he huffs a laugh. "girlfriend. wants sumthin from the new collection?" he looks just as puzzled as you in the store.

"oh." you nod, trying your best not to act weird around him. it needs to end right now. where's the nearest exit?-

"what about you?" he asks.

your face freezes and your palms start to sweat uncontrollably.

"just...shopping." you manage to say.

he smiles. "right. sorry."

"no, it's fine." you rub your head in embarrassment.

"I just saw you and thought I might say hi. you're from the office."

you nod your head with a tightlipped smile.

"the coffee spill." he points out with a wave of his finger around your torso.

you chuckle once. "yep."

"what were you listening to?" he points to your earbuds.

"oh," you chuckle twisting the wire between your fingers. "pink floyd."

his eyes widen. "really? which album?"

"the wall." you tell him.

"i love that album."

"really?"

he nods his head once. then says, "fuck, i had your name on the tip of my tongue..."

you tell him again, and he nods slowly. "yep. i remember you."

you try to look around at anything but him, but he won't stop looking at you. his gaze is too intense, you don't want to be rude. your eyes always find their way back to his.

"we're havin a release party tomorrow night." he tells you.

"are you?" you act oblivious to the fact that oasis is going to throw a massive party for their new album just before the tour.

"yeah. the whole crew is invited. you should stop by."

you're here buying lingerie for the party. but he doesn't have to know that.

you smile at him. "i will."

"great. see ya." he turns around, ready to walk away.

"i'll see you at the office, mr. gallagher." you say.

he stops in his tracks, a smirk on his face. "you know you can just call me noel, right?" he says.

your eyes widen. "oh-"

"im around your age- s'bit weird, don't cha think?"

you stay quiet.

"makes me sound like some old grump." he chuckles.

"bye, noel." you mutter, returning to your underwear hunt behind you.

°˖➴

you take off from work today so that you could buy a new pair of ballet flats and get ready for the release party. it's silly, but you haven't taken a day off since last year.

you meet everyone at the office at six pm, and you spot matt talking to charlie at his desk. as soon as he looks up at you, matt's jaw drops to the floor. charlie whips his head around, his jaw open as well. you blush, setting your purse down at your desk and walking over to matt's.

"thank you." you give matt a tight hug.

"tessa does the trick. did you see her?"

"yep. she helped me with this one." you twirl around in your black dress, letting matt clap for you and charlie laughing as he does so.

you never did dress up. but you need mr. right to notice you. it's so out of character for you; maybe because he's already seen your bra and watched you shop for underwear. you can't tell anyone- it would be so embarrassing. maybe if you just take care of yourself and make more of an effort to look beautiful, maybe he'd remember your name.

but you heard him in the store. he has a girlfriend. he was buying her a scrap of fabric from a new lingerie collection you had no idea about.

the phone rings, and matt picks it up as soon as possible.

"hellooo?" he spins around in his chair.

you watch him nod as he replies, and then hangs up.

"the printer room has contracts ready that you need to review for noel." matt tells you.

your heart almost jumps out of your chest again just at the mention of his name. as long as you aren't going to room six, everything should be fine.

"alright. will he be there?" you breathe out, swiping stray hairs that have fallen from your bun out of the way.

matt and charlie's eyebrows perk up. "i'm not sure...why?" they look at each other, then back at you.

you freeze. "I meant- I don't wanna go talk to the chief looking like a dumpster diver, right?" you chuckle anxiously.

their mouths drop. "holy shit," matt sings.

you roll your eyes.

"you fancy the chief?" charlie asks with a playful gasp.

"so that's why you asked miriam about lingerie yesterday." matt snaps his fingers.

your expression drops. "how do you know about that?" you nearly shout.

"you should know by now to never tell miriam anything."

"true." you sigh.

that bitch.

"don't stress. you look good." matt reassures you.

"thanks."

"do you want me to check where he is?"

"yes." you don't need to hesitate.

running in to noel with a sexy black dress is not on your bucket list.

"he's supposed to be in a tour meeting in room four right now."

"great."

you walk down the hallway towards the printer room, pushing the door open without thinking.

you gasp at the sight in front of you, not expecting a very sweaty vision of liam and patsy eating each other's faces off in the printer room. his hand squeezes her waist and her hands are buried in his chest. it's dark in there, so they must have noticed the bright light that shone on them once you cracked open the door.

her blonde hair stands out in the light, and she whips her head around to see you in the doorway.

your lips part. "shit, sorry-" you click the door shut, your chest heaving.

you should just quit your job at this point.

you smack your palm against your head. "fuckin stupid-"

"y/n?"

"what?" you snap.

they didn't answer. your eyes fly open, only to be met with noel's face again.

"Jesus- fuck," you shake your head quickly.

"did i startle you?"

"no, its not you-" you stutter, trying to find the words.

his brows lift.

you take a deep breath before you spill out and make no sense.

"your brother's snogging some blonde bird in there," you gesture towards the printer room, waving your fingers around lazily.

"sorry about him." noel shakes his head.

"its fine." you sigh. "sorry. shouldn't you be in a meeting?"

he squints. "how'd you know?"

"matt checked your schedule."

"you stalking me now, birdie?"

you chuckle. "i thought you knew my name."

"i do." he steps closer to you.

your breath hitches, and he notices.

"you all dolled up for the party?" noel asks.

"yeah." you place your hands out at your sides, revealing your dress.

his eyes drag up your figure, and then his cheeks go pink. "i like your dress."

you smile. "thanks, noel."

your dress is black, the hem ending mid-ankle. the top is a beautifully constructed black corset with lace lining the edges, along with tiny black straps that hang on your shoulders. you're wearing your signature black ballet flats, (of course). heels would kill you for sure.

he turns around to get back to the meeting down the hall, but then snaps his fingers and spins his head around. "you got the contracts I sent you, yeah?"

you nod your head. "they're uh, in the printer room."

he giggles. "gotcha."

°˖➴

the release party is loud.

the venue is so big, the DJ in the corner near the bar, a pool of people sticking to each other.

"the fuck is this, then?" you hear noel yelling at your boss james.

"noel, just listen to me-" your head boss fights back.

you sip your martini carefully in the corner, watching the way noel's lips move as he argues. he's sweating, the buttons on his shirt flying open at the top.

you look over at his girlfriend; meg, you remember miriam told you her name once. she's laughing with liam and patsy, a cig between her fingers. she's just perfect. wearing a beautiful leopard dress and her striking blonde hair; her smile lighting up the whole room with a smoke ring around her head.

your eyes move back to noel, and you bite on your straw without even realizing. his eyes find yours through the crowd, and your chest heaves. your fingers grip the cold glass as you sip your drink.

before you know it, you're in a staring contest with noel gallagher and your drink has finished; the empty slurping noises filling your ears over the loud music.

your eyes don't leave his as you glide over to the bar, leaning on the counter and asking for another martini.

a few minutes passes, and now you're on your third martini. your vision blurs, but isn't that the point? you have to let go. you take a drag from the cig that's between your red manicured nails.

someone lands next to you at the bar. and you don't know if your senses are extra hyper now that you're dazed, but you know exactly who it is. he's sneaked up on you way too many times.

you smell his cologne from behind you, and you want to drink in that scent.

"noel." you greet him as he grabs the cig that lies between your fingers, taking a long drag.

you turn your head and rest your chin in your hands as you look at the man that stands next to you. the previous wave of anger still lingers on his face.

"why the clenched jaw?" you ask, waving a lazy finger in his face.

he looks at you, your eyes blown wide and your face slightly pouted. you are definitely drunk.

"that fucker is supposed to be managing me," he points at james, both you and his head boss. "but he has no idea what the fuck he's making me look like," noel shakes his head.

"what'd ya mean?" you ask with an unhurried blink of your eyes.

"i never asked for a fucking DJ. and he's playing stupid pop hits. seriously- who in their right mind plays the spice girls at an oasis release party?"

you laugh loudly at that.

apparently your laugh is contagious, because his lips curl into a smile before he breaks into a chuckle. then he shakes his head.

once you start, you can't stop. and you were fully blaming the alcohol for that. you covered your mouth as you laughed.

"whats so funny?"

"you."

his eyes widen. he isn't expecting that. "me?"

you nod. "yes. when you're angry." you take another sip of your martini.

"right." he nods slowly. "how many of those have you had?"

you shrug once. "two," you trace the wet rim of the glass with a red lipstick mark on it. "maybe three?"

"okay, that's your last one." he points at your half full glass.

you frown. "what? says who?"

"says me." he takes the last drag of your cig, dabbing it into the ash tray.

"you aren't the boss of me." you pout.

"actually, i am." he says with a wink.

oh, yeah. how could you forget that?

your eyes flicker and drop to his lips. you think about how soft they are. but you have to stop yourself.

he chuckles, following your gaze. too late. he's noticed.

you bite your lip and drop your head, trying to shake off the thought of his lips on yours.

"are you alright?" he asks, your head tipping to meet his eyes again.

you nod slowly, your teeth still sinking into your bottom lip as you scoop your hair out of your face.

you looked nothing like you did when you arrived at the office at six. your pack is now missing three cigs, you're drunk on mysterious orange martinis, and your hair tie broke so now your hair is a loose mess in your face. the humidity in the crowded room is not helping your case, by the way.

"would you like another?" the bartender shouts over the music, a towel hanging off his shoulder.

you smile at him, and then look back at noel.

"she's fine." noel puts his hand up.

"actually," you cut in with an extended finger.

"one more would be great." you wink at the bartender while licking your lips.

it's like he forgot noel existed, his statement going out the window. the bartender nods, returning to the drinks behind the counter.

noel scoffs, shaking his head slowly.

you widen your eyes at his expression. "what?" you ask innocently with a little shrug.

"i'm thirsty." you say as you pick up the maraschino cherry in your empty glass and bite it off the stem with a sharp pop.

he watches your mouth, the way you effortlessly bite it and drop the stem back into the glass.

you had unintentionally started another staring contest with noel gallagher. and this time, you didn't shy away. you're far too dazed to even care about your appearance.

you openly laugh, your cheeks don't flame each time he speaks a word to you, your hair is really, really frizzy. and- you don't care.

"if you're thirsty, you should be drinking water." he proposes, waving over the bartender for a bottle.

"no! noellllll," you groan, your head dropping to the cold, grimey counter.

he thanks the bartender who also slid your fourth martini across the counter to you. noel taps some blonde bird and offers her the martini with a kind smile. she laughs, smacks his shoulder once, and then travels deeper into the crowd.

he's grateful you don't see.

"drink." he slides you the cold bottle.

you frown. "where's my martini?"

"guess he forgot. drink." he nods towards the water bottle.

hm. that's weird. you thought your flirting skills were pretty good.

you crack open the cap with a small pop and down the whole bottle in seconds.

"damn, birdie. I didn't have to force you." he pats your back as you swallow the water.

"I told you I was thirsty."

°˖➴

it's midnight. you're dancing in the middle of the venue with hundreds of people surrounding you. you lost matt and forgot where noel told you he'd be when he said, "I'll be right back, don't move"

when you grabbed his arm to ask him where he was going, he told you, and you nodded even though the fact disappeared the second it had entered your brain.

someone taps your shoulder. it's rough. it's rushed.

you turn around with a sweaty grin on your face, your hair sticking to your face.

it's noel. a glare is plastered to his face.

your grin falters at his expression. he's clearly upset. at you?

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asks sharply.

your eyes flicker. "dancing?" you say it like it's obvious.

"i told you to stay put."

you squint at him. "no you didn't"

he shakes his head. "yes i did." he argues.

"i don't remember." you admitted.

he looks at you. hard. "did you have another martini?" he searches your wide eyes, clearly drunken.

you felt like a kid caught stealing candy from a candy store.

"no."

"no?" he lifts a brow.

"no."

you obviously had another martini.

his hands are on his hips as he looks down at your lips, trying to keep himself together. he wouldn't lose it on you. but he knew you were fragile. anybody could take advantage of you. he didn't know why he was so attached to you- or why he couldn't stop thinking about the shy girl from the office.

"let's go." he says.

"go where?" you ask.

"i'm taking you home."

your head jerks back. "no you aren't."

"yes i am."

you frown. "i'm not ready to go home."

he sighs, clearly exhausted by your questions. "come on, love. you're wasted." he reaches for your forearm, dragging you towards the door of the party room.

"noel, wait-" you adjust the falling strap of your purse, nearly tripping over your feet as he guided you out the doors.

the cool london air hits your back, sending a shiver up your spine.

"you cold, birdie?" noel asks, his hands already on the hem of his jacket.

you nod once, rubbing up your arms in a soothing motion. he drapes the fabric of his suit jacket around you, and you inhale the scent shamelessly.

he adjusts it tightly around you, helping you button it. the navy blue shoulder pad hit your cheek as you turn to look at him with wide eyes.

"where's your place?" he asks with a sigh.

"i can't go back yet." you say simply.

his expression flickers with exhaustion. "why not?"

"cause i left all my stuff at the office."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

the office was forty-five minutes away from the venue.

"alright, I'm calling a cab." he dials the buttons on his flip phone, and you zone out as you hear him speak to the cab company on the phone.

°˖➴

the cab arrives around a few minutes later, and noel guides you into the vehicle. you're a stumbling mess, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder beneath his oversized suit jacket.

you sit in the car with noel for forty five minutes, and it's full of silence. but weirdly, not an awkward silence. a comfortable one.

you drift off to sleep, your head falling onto his shoulder once you've gotten on the highway, and his expression softens as he adjusts your head on his chest for more comfort.

you and noel arrive at the office around ten to one, and you stumble towards the lift.

you sink back against the metal doors, forgetting to hold onto the railing as noel presses the button for the eighth floor and the doors come to a close.

the lobby music ceases as the doors close and he second the lift moves, you trip over your feet, blindly searching for something to hold.

noel grabs onto you quickly, holding you up. "you alright?"

you nod once quickly. no, you were not alright. you hadn't even heard him; ever since the cab ride you would nod at everything he said regardless if you heard. and you were glad he hadn't noticed yet.

"hold on to the railing." he tells you and then lets go of your arm.

the lift climbs higher and he's standing an appropriate distance from you. the lift finally jolts in place as it arrives on the eighth floor, and you stumble over your feet again and fall flat on your face.

"shit!" noel's eyes widen and he rushes over to you, making an effort to pull you up by your biceps.

you groan, rubbing your tired eyes, refusing to move.

"didn't i tell you to hold the railing?" he stands above you.

you obliviously nod again.

he sighs. "come on, love. get up."

"i'm fine here." you slur your words.

"fucking hell, would you please get up?" his tone is sharper now.

you don't respond, just yawn from your spot on the carpeted floors of the lift.

he huffs once and then grabs your forearms and forces you off the floor.

he guides you out of the lift, the hard grip of his fingers on your arm is pinching you.

you groan, trying to push him off of you. "i can do it myself" you mumble.

he stands there helpless as you nearly fall on your face again, holding onto the nearest cubicle like a lifeline.

he sighs, shakes his head, and then catches up with you.

you finally reach your desk, slamming your hands against the glass. you bend down to find your things under your desk.

noel accidentally lets his gaze wander, his eyes finding the open hole in your tights that you picked at, near the top of your thigh. his cheeks burn hot and he looks away quickly.

"gotcha." you mutter to yourself under your breath as you slam your black work bag on your desk. things fly out of your bag, spilling onto your desk and onto the floor of the office.

"shit," you mutter, trying to gather your things.

he comes up behind you. "do you need help?"

you roll your eyes. "no. i thought i told you i could do it myself."

he huffs a laugh. "alright then."

the red apple that was once in your bag rolls around on the floor, along with your diary and a black pen, open to a previous entry. it catches his eye, he tries to read it, but his eyes blur as you slam your hand against his chest for support, the other hand plastered on your desk.

once you think you can stay balanced, you sigh, removing your grip on his chest.

"can you stand?"

you nod in response.

"i have to pee." you run a hand through your hair with a sharp sigh.

once you trudge towards the bathroom and unintentionally slam the bathroom door, noel bends down to pick up your fallen items.

he throws the apple in the air and juggles it once, then places it back into your bag. he collects each writing utensil and puts it back. his eyes finally land on the pink diary in the corner near the leg of your office chair.

he was going to close it and replace it like all the other items, but something catches his eye.

his name. in your diary. in fancy cursive, all pretty and perfect.

noel squints, reaching for the diary and letting it settle between his fingers. he doesn’t know what to feel. happy? disturbed? no, he’s just intrigued.

his eyes scan the page before properly reading all of your entries. he flips back to your first one with a small chuckle.

1/9/97

dear diary, I think I've fallen in love. and I'm not exaggerating when I say my heart stuttered when I laid eyes on noel gallagher. everything about him is perfect. my favorite feature is his smile. because even though he is a grump most of the time, I watched him smile today and it was the most beautiful smile i've ever seen. I wish he would do it more often. christ, his smile wasn't even meant for me and i felt it just as deep. I can't explain how he makes me feel, but it's contagious. whenever I caught him smiling, I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't. i've watched him before, but not like the last few days. something sparked inside me, and now I cant stop thinking about him. maybe one day we'll get to know each other. maybe one day his smile will be meant for me.

he smiles just like you had described. then flips to the most recent page. yesterday morning.

8/20/97

dear diary, I've never been more embarrassed in my life. noel gallagher had seen my bra. he'd looked at the color, made a comment, and then shot me the most dangerous smile. and it wasn't like all the other times. he didn't remember my name again, but he repeated it on his lips. my name on his lips did something horrible to my heart. I swear I'm going mad and he'll never be aware of it. I'm just the girl who spilled coffee on her blouse and accidentally flashed noel gallagher. and maybe that's all i'll ever be to him.

his expression softens at the most recent one, but something in his heart flickers. sadness, maybe?

all of a sudden, the door to the bathroom opens with a loud click. he hesitates, slamming your diary so quickly it flings out of his hands and falls back onto the floor.

"shit." he mutters, scrambling for the diary, unable to find it.

you're standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a few feet away from noel, your head resting back against the wall with a small thud.

"alright?" he asks nervously with a tightlipped smile, trying to brush off whatever he saw a few moments ago.

you nod slowly. "yeah."

"good. ready to head home?" he gathers the rest of your fallen belongings on your desk and throws it into your black bag, darting his head under each desk to look for the diary.

you don't answer. he furrows his brows, zips up your bag, and then walks over to you near the bathroom.

"what's wrong?" he scans your face.

your face is pale and your expression goes serious. "noel." you whisper a warning.

"what, love?" he searches your expression curiously.

"i..." you start, trying not to choke.

he drops your bag on the nearest desk, forgetting about the diary, moving closer to you.

"i think I'm gonna be sick." you gag.

"shit." he guides you backwards into the bathroom, forcing the light on.

you groan loudly, falling to your knees over the toilet as you wretch all of your martinis.

he holds your hair away from your face, letting you spill into the toilet. your hands grip the bottom of the porcelain toilet, barfing your guts out in that very office, past midnight, with noel gallagher behind you.

"let it out, birdie." he pats your back with his free hand.

after a few minutes, you sink back against the tile wall. he grabs a napkin from the dispenser above your head, dabbing it with water and handing it to you. you lazily snatch it, swiping it across your lips.

"thanks," you slur, dropping the napkin into the toilet and flushing it away.

"you all done?" he asks.

you nod your head once.

"alright, come on-" he heads for the door.

a loud noise of you wretching again fills the room.

"fuck!" he positions your body over the toilet properly as you lazily spill again.

"i had too many martinis," you moan as your head rests against the wall again.

"you should have listened to me." he passes you another napkin.

°˖➴

the car ride back to your place is eventful. the cab driver must have been drunk aswell, because the way he's swerving on the highway makes noel pray you don't surprise-vomit again. your head flaps onto his lap like a dead corpse, and he cradles your head to keep you steady.

"where's your place?" he asks, shaking you to life.

"huh?"

"where's your flat, love?" noel squints down at you.

"uhm," you sniffle. "where are we?"

he looks out the window. "crossfield," he tells you.

"make a right" you slur.

he repeats it to the driver, which makes another very unsafe turn.

"we're here." noel says as he reaches over to pay the driver and then picks up your head. you hold your head as you get up to fast, trying to steady your vision.

"thanks, mate." noel pats the driver's shoulder roughly, and then gently escorts you out of the car.

you grab the railing of the entrance to your flat, carefully moving up the stairs. he grabs your waist as you clumsily trip over your feet again.

"careful, birdie." he adjusts your position, moving you into your flat. he takes your keys, asking you which one goes in the lock. once he figures it out, he directs you inside.

"it's so fucking hot in here" you groan, trudging towards your bedroom.

"I'm gonna make you some tea, okay?" he tells you.

"m'kay" you rub your eyes, grabbing the wall for support as you travel deeper into your flat towards your bedroom.

the second you hit your room, you unzip your dress and slip out of it, and your tights are next.

you stand clad in your bra and underwear, the matching black set you bought that day at 'the chateau'.

"i've got tea," noel kicks open your bedroom door, carefully balancing steamy a mug between his hands.

his eyes drag up to your face, but are met with the sight of your soft skin. the orange lamp light casting a glow on your skin as you stretch your arms over your head with a yawn.

you turn around, your hands buried deep in your frizzy hair. "thanks." your lips curl into a smile.

heat rises to his face, and he clears his throat. he tries to avert his eyes, but your figure is so perfect, he finds it hard to look away.

when he finally manages, his eyes fix on the carpet and he picks up your lacy dress, tossing it into your hamper.

you slump down onto your bed, stretching your limbs across the soft white sheets. he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, looking back at you.

"i gotta go now." he says.

"aw, come on noely," you slur, resting on your elbow.

he chuckles and shakes his head.

"it's really late." he pats his thighs, moving off your bed.

"it's a friday night." you excuse his statement.

"i know."

“which means it’s almost the weekend.”

“i know.”

"i don't want to be alone." you confess.

he gives you a sad smile. "i know."

"is it her?" you ask, completely unfiltered.

his eyebrows furrowed. "what?"

"the blonde girl." you nearly groan at the thought of her face.

he laughs, scratching his neck. "dunno, love. its just late. I should get some sleep."

"so she isn't waiting for you?"

he stares blankly at you. "how do you know about meg?"

"everyone knows about her. she's perfect." you admit with a pout.

he huffs a laugh. "i s'pose she's still at the party."

"if she's still partying then its not too late for you to go home." you say.

he chuckles once. you may have been drunk, but you weren't stupid.

he lays down next to you, with a respectable distance, telling himself he’ll stay just until you fall asleep, but time gets away from him. around four in the morning, noel sneaks out and leaves you a tiny note by your bedside.

you wake at seven, rolling around in your bed with messy hair draped over your eyes. you groan, the impact of a pounding headache sinking in. you’re only in your black set that you bought the other day, and you wonder, where the hell did my clothes go?

you get out of bed and get ready for the day, your eyes finally meeting your black dress in the hamper along with your pantyhose. when you pull on a fresh t-shirt and house shorts, you realize a note on your nightstand.

a messy, rushed, and script handwritten note lies on your white table near your lamp, and you slowly lift it close to your eyes.

birdie,

last night was eventful. im glad i got to know ya. please take care of yerself- i left you some hangover shite on the counter. hope that helps.

P.S. i haven’t forgot your name.

your lips part, and then curl into a smile. he had left a note. he had remembered your name.

you drop the note back onto your dresser, carefully padding into the kitchen. the floors are ice cold, sending a shiver up your body. you rub your arms that were covered in goosebumps, searching for a nearby sweater to cover your body.

you spot noel's blue suitjacket hanging off the stool near your counter, and you scurry over to wrap it over your body. on the counter was a bottle of water, painkillers to cure the headache, and another note with his phone number just in case you needed him.

why was he being so nice? he was never explicitly kind to you, let alone would ever take notice of you.

you pop the painkillers into your mouth, downing the whole bottle of water in just a few minutes. you've never been hungover before, mainly because you only had one drink whenever you went out.

you walk back to your bedroom, sinking back into the sheets again. you stay like that, wrapped in his suit jacket that still smells like his cologne, and you inhale it softly as you slowly drift off to sleep.

5:15pm. a knock.

5:16pm. the doorbell.

then again.

then an, "open the door, i know you're in there."

5:17pm. the doorbell again, this time over and over again until your head is pounding even harder and you're fully awake.

you groan, tripping over your feet as you scramble for the door, where the doorbell is still ringing, someone pushing at the noisy button rapidly.

"what?" you moan, swinging open the door.

noel stops, his hand frozen on the button.

his eyes drag up your figure. you're still in your black lacy scraps, your chest partially covered with his dark suit jacket that hangs off your arms and drops to your hips.

he clears his throat, his eyes crawling back to your exhausted face.

"don't you know how it pick up the phone?" noel snaps at you.

you jerk your head back at his tone with a tiny scoff. "i was sleeping."

his face softens, his expression reading the words, "oh."

"i called you like, fifty times" he scratches his neck in embarrassment.

you look at him; study him, and tilt your head. why did he even care? it intrigued you how he wanted to be there for you.

"why?" you asked.

his expression dropped as he cleared his throat again. "dunno. wanted to check on you, i s'pose," he avoids your eyes with a small shrug.

"okay. well, i'm fine." you stand in the doorway, barefoot and barely covered.

it's clearly a distraction for noel. he can't look you in the eye.

"well, you forgot something at the office, so I came to drop it off." he says once he's recollected himself.

your head lifts off the door in curiosity, not expecting him to pull out your pink notebook with your diary entries inside it. your eyes widen in horror, snatching it out of his hands.

you press it tightly against your chest with a loud gulp. "why do you have this?" you freak out.

he's nearly scared of your tone. "uh, last night a bunch of things fell out of your purse, and you...forgot it."

your chest heaves, and you almost forget how to breathe. there was extremely embarrassing, super private, your-eyes-only type of stuff in there. did he read it?

you scooped your hair out of your pale face, trying to calm yourself down. he wouldn't invade your privacy like that.

"did you uh," you start, your breath shaky. "see anything?"

his brow perks up. "see what?"

"did you read it?" you ask hesitantly, your cheeks turning a firey shade of red.

he stays quiet. every second that passes by makes you more anxious, your diary being choked by your sweaty fingers.

"noel." you ask tentatively.

he looks away. "i..."

you want to crawl up into a ball and hide. he had seen your diary. your entries. your love notes. your confessions. everything.

"what did you see?" your voice is shaky, and you might cry from embarrassment.

"come on, birdie-" he puts his hands out in front of him to calm your nerves.

"what did you see?" you repeat even louder.

"do you really need me to clarify?" he mumbles while averting his eyes.

you practice deep breaths, still clutching your notebook tightly to your chest. maybe you can explain.

"you saw..." you start, cutting yourself off. the reality of it all was very terrifying. you were going to have an anxiety attack.

"yeah." he nods slowly.

everything starts to come together in your brain.

oh my God. he had invaded your privacy.

you look up at him with disgusted eyes. "you went through my things?" you ask shyly.

his eyes flash with panic, and he's quick to deny it. "what? no- it wasn't like that-"

"noel, just leave me alone." you move to close the door, trying to shut him out.

he drops his foot in the door, his sneaker standing in the way. your breathing trembles as your eyes crawl back up to his face with pure embarrassment. "you weren't supposed to see that."

"i figured." he says with a small chuckle.

you shake your head. this wasn't even a tiny bit funny.

he notices your discomfort. "listen, birdie. it fell out of your bag while you were in the bathroom, and it was open-"

"but you still read it." you shoot back.

his expression drops. "but-"

"no." you cut him off. "you knew it was private and you still read it."

"you don't have to be embarrassed-" he starts, but you interrupt him again.

"are you serious?" you nearly shout.

he falls silent. "of course I'm embarrassed. that wasn't meant for you to see." you run a shaky hand through your hair.

"i'm sorry." he shakes his head frantically, trying to get you to relax.

"just go." you mutter through tears.

"shit- i didn't mean to, okay? please don't cry, birdie" he looks helpless at your door, wanting to comfort you and tell you that you had nothing to be embarrassed about.

"please. just go." you sniffle, not looking at him. your hand tightens on the doorknob, ready to shut him out.

he keeps his distance, nodding once and moving down the hall, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

you don't watch him leave, way too overwhelmed, and you shut the door the second he departs. the door slams, and you press your back against it as the tears begin to fall.

you swiped your palm against your wet, tear-stained cheeks, sniffling helplessly. once you stopped shaking from embarrassment, you slid down the door and dropped to the floor.

you tug your knees tightly to your chest, sobbing into noel's suit jacket. you pick up your diary that's on the floor next to you, flipping through the pages. your tears splatter on the white pages, causing the ink to run; ink that was once carelessly glided across your page.

you rip out each page with a loud sob, and the room fills with tearing noises. your fingers shake unintentionally as the words fall from each page into tiny bits on the wooden floor of your flat.

once you finish, you throw the pieces of paper into the garbage can and dig your palms into your eyes so roughly, you start to see stars.

°˖➴

the next day at the office is full of fake smiles and longing stares. for once, you don't peer into room six and watch him smile. you don't see him argue with your boss or sip black coffee. you just do your work like everybody else in the office. and it's boring.

"the chief wants to review contracts with you in room four." matt covers the telephone with his spare hand and calls to your desk.

"can't. it's my lunch break." you say, scooting out of your chair and grabbing your bag.

he lifts a brow. "no it's not. you already had your lunch break at twelve."

you stare blankly at him, and then steal a glance at the clock. it's eight at night. "whatever." you hurry out the door and press the button for the lift. your eyes wander to room four, and you see noel leaning on the desk, flipping through a few pages. he's sitting with liam and the rest of the band, as well as their tour manager lisa.

his eyes look through the glass and find yours like memory. your heart stutters, and the second your eyes meet his, you whip your head back around. the lift dings, and you step inside.

noel's expression drops, and he watches you through the glass. your eyes are on him as the lift's doors close, travelling down.

"noel?" lisa asks with an exasperated sigh, tapping her pen against the glass table.

liam knocks his shoulder against noel's, and he's brought back into the world. "what's wrong with you today, lad? yer so out of it" liam lifts a brow.

"huh?" noel asks while clearing his throat.

lisa's chin is in her hands. "i was just asking you if you wanted to add any songs to the setlist before we submit it."

"oh."

she lifts a brow.

uh, no. I'm fine with it if he is." noel fakes a smile.

lisa looks at liam, then back at noel.

"i like the new you." liam chuckles, taking a drag from his cig.

"I'll be right back." noel pushes out of his chair without hesitation, heading for the door.

"we're in the middle of a meeting, noel-" lisa shouts back at him, but is cut off by the sharp sound of the door closing.

"never fuckin' wants to listen to me, now he's fine with the setlist?" liam mumbles and shakes his head lazily.

°˖➴

he's sweating by the time he races down the stairs to the ground floor of the office, (the lift took too long). he pushes the door open as his button up is flapping open, his sunglasses resting above his head. he peels his eyes out for you, and they dash across the street. you're nowhere to be found. he crosses the street, looking around once more. as he turns his head right, he spots you. his heart flutters, watching you sit on a bench with your earbuds in, your unmistakable pink coat wrapped around your body and buttoned to the top.

the wind plays with your hair, sending a few strands into your eyes, and he watches you carefully. your legs are crossed, and you gaze into the distance, your expression saddened.

he takes a deep breath, stretches his hands out, and then opens the gate to the park. he gazes at you across the way, in front of the large waterfall, and your staring into the pennies at the bottom of the pond like you were hoping for something revolutionary to happen.

maybe you were.

he takes a cautious seat next to you on the bench, his movements steady and slow. he wasn't here to fight, or to embarrass you. you noticed him, but chose not to say anything. if you did, you'd probably just embarrass yourself even more.

"listen," he starts, but then cuts himself off. he thinks about what he's gonna say, realizing he shouldn't feed you information. you know exactly what you did and he knows exactly what he saw. there was no room for explanations. he just wants you to understand. maybe an apology is enough.

"i'm sorry." he says simply.

you blink once, slowly, and then turn your head in his direction. the swift london breeze is teasing your hair, and noel so badly wants to tuck it behind your ear and run his fingers along your freckled cheeks.

"its fine. you already saw it, it's not gonna fix anything." you tell him.

he sighs. maybe an apology isn't enough.

"you're not listening." noel clenches his jaw with a shake of his head.

you squint at him. "I hear you perfectly, noel."

he scoffs.

you roll your eyes at him. "cause seriously, now all I am is just a fucking weirdo to you. it's the truth, isn't it?" you snap.

he just watches you.

"I'm just the clumsy girl who daydreamed about you and spilled her coffee. the girl who you caught buying scandalous lingerie," you get up from the bench and zip up your work bag.

"just the crazy girl who writes about her stupid, childish, mr. right in her notebook," you ramble loudly, people starting to gaze over at you two now.

noel clears his throat, trying to keep things on the down low, not anything people knowing your business.

"just the girl who has a weird obsession with seeing you smile, right? i'm just fucking crazy?" you throw your arms out in defense.

he gets up from his place on the bench, his face centimeters from yours.

"you aren't crazy." he says, his voice low, while stepping even closer to you.

your breath hitches, but him being close to you isn't important right now.

"so then what is it? mental? peculiar?-" you squint at him from the blinding spring sun.

his fingers come up to brush your cheeks. your expression softens at the contact of his fingers on your skin. "i was going to say," he starts, his eyes searching yours.

you gulp loudly, utterly confused and waiting for his words.

"you shouldn't be embarrassed because I don't think it's weird. I think it's cute." he admits with a tiny smile.

you scoff. "like 'cute' is any better than weird. of course it's cute, noel. its childish." you try to shake your head, but he forces your eyes to his.

"i'm not mad at you." he clarifies, staring deep into your eyes.

"what?" you whisper.

he shakes his head softly in confirmation.

"why didn't you just talk to me?" he inquires, his lips curling into a smile.

"i couldn't. i was stupidly in love with you." you chuckle while kicking a rock with your boot, but there's no amusement there.

your eyes meet his again and he asks, "was?"

your heart flutters. "uh..."

he lifts a brow. "are you not in love with me anymore, birdie?"

you gulp loudly, trying to calm your breathing so you wouldn't stutter. "of course i still love you."

he's full on grinning now. "good. can i tell you something?"

you nod eagerly as he leans in, his lips at your ear. "i think I'm in love with you too." he whispers.

°˖➴

he presses your back against the wall next to your flat, kissing you passionately as your hands tug at his hair.

"get the key," he mutters between kisses, and you nod before looking down and scrambling for your keys at the bottom of your purse.

his kisses advance from your lips down to the length of your neck, unbuttoning your pink coat so he could gain more access to your skin. your fingers find the golden key, and you push it into the door.

you and noel tumble inside you flat, the keys falling onto the front table as he forces off your coat and then you reach for the zipper of his jacket. he chuckles and kisses your neck again as you pull off his black sunglasses and throw them on the couch.

his hands trail from your waist to your thighs, picking you up and carrying you through your flat. you smile as your hands clasp around his neck, not breaking the kiss. he hums as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck gently, and you giggle in response.

when you arrive in your bedroom, he doesn't bother with the light, kicking the door shut with his sneaker. he drops you and your feet hit the floor. you immediately reach for your button up, popping open the buttons and shrugging it off.

he laughs and shakes his head, looking down at your stunning black bra again. "you're gonna fuckin' kill me" he nearly groans, tugging his shirt out from his belt. you pull it off in one motion.

you press your lips to his tenderly, letting him savor your taste as he walks you backwards towards your bed. your ankles hit the wood border of your bed, and you giggle as you both fall down.

he adjusts on top of you, turning his head to kiss you deeper you groan at the feeling of his lips finally being on yours. after daydreaming about them, you can confirm he kisses better than you thought.

he runs his hands up and down your thighs, his fingers roaming your body teasingly as you shiver under his touch from the sensation of the cool metal of his silver rings touching your bare skin. "noel," you whisper, pulling his head closer to you so he can kiss your neck again.

"what, birdie?" he asks with a sigh as he peppers kisses all over your neck, making sure to suck the skin after. he does it again, trying to make you squirm.

you giggled instead, which makes him kiss you harder.

"nothing. i'm just really happy." you confess.

he smiles, shakes his head, and then leans back on his calves to unzip your black skirt. he kisses your neck once, and then pulls your skirt off swiftly. "believe it or not, but you look really fit in these grandma skirts,"

"shut up," you smack his chest lightly, and he gazes down at you again.

he shakes his head at you. "what's wrong?" you ask, disappointment flickering on your face. why'd he stop?

"you're so fucking beautiful." he nearly groans at the sight of you, crashing his lips against yours.

you sigh sweetly, the sound so beautiful to him. he tenderly rubs his thumbs along your waist to keep you steady, kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck.

he runs his soft nose along the length of your neck, and then stops to look down at you again. what was it now?

"noel?" your shaky hands run up his bare biceps and cup his face.

"sorry." he says, shaking his head.

"what is it? tell me." you try to slow your rapid heartbeat.

"nothing, i just-" he repositions himself atop of you, his strong arms settling beside your head.

your brows furrowed in confusion. "did i do something wrong?" you ask innocently.

his eyes widen. "what? no." he shakes his head quickly. "no, no. fuck- it's not you." he squeezes his eyes shut.

your hands run up his chest in a soothing motion. "tell me." you ask again.

"i just..." he gulps. "i don't wanna rush things with you."

your whole body stills. "you mean, you don't want to..." you gesture to the both of you in your bed, half clothed.

he chuckles. "no, not like that. of course i want you, but i don't want it to be over so soon." he clarifies.

oh.

you smile slowly. "i want you too." you bite your lip.

"good." he settles over you properly, pressing his lips to yours once.

his eyes search yours as he stills, just drinking you in, taking a moment to really look at you. at your beauty. your originality. he's never met anyone like you before.

you sigh, growing tired of not having his mouth on yours. you curl your fingers around his silver chain, pulling him closer to your lips with it as the cold metal hits your face. you tug his strands of hair.

"eager, are we?" he laughs through passionate kisses.

"shut up already." you mutter back.

he traces the hem of your lace set, clicking his tongue. "did you buy this the day i ran into you?"

you bite your lip and nod teasingly.

"this is the one you were holding?" he asks with a smile.

you nod again, and he chuckles. "looks great on you." he kisses the strap at your shoulder, his hands firm on your waist.

°˖➴

you haven't slept this peacefully in years, the cool morning air slipping through your bedroom and washing over your skin. noel got up at six, slipping on his boxers and ruffling his hair as he looked over at you, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder.

he grabs his jacket on the floor and grabs his cig pack in the pocket, walking over to the window and lighting the cig over the bright sunlight.

you twist in bed, the sun nearly blinds you. you rub your wrist over your eyes gently as you yawn like a newborn kitten, stretching your limbs out across the sheets.

his eyes wander from the quiet rustling trees to an open drawer you forgot to close. your pink notebook. it's flipped open to the first and only page, looking like you had previously ripped the rest out. it's the first entry you had ever written about him. noel smiles, and then looks back at you, putting out his half-used cig and leaving it in the ashtray sitting on your windowsill. he rips out the last page, and then he crawls back into bed, forgetting to close the window.

his fingers dance on your arm, slowly soothing you and letting you drift back to sleep. his head sits on his elbow, intrigued by you and your soft breathing. after a few minutes, your eyes flutter open. you immediately smile, but then sink into the pillow and try to hide it. you turn so you're laying on your chest, the golden streak of sunlight sneaking through the window now casting a gleam on your bare back.

"morning, baby" he scoots closer to you running his nose up your back. the feeling tickles you, and you turn over with a quiet yawn.

"morning." you say as you move the sheets up to cover your bare chest, cupping his face and capturing him in a sweet kiss.

"so...are you gonna write about me again?" his fingers twirl in your hair.

you smack his hand away with a tiny smile. "what?"

he lifts the first entry he ripped out of your notebook, the folded piece of paper between his fingers.

you snatch the paper, opening it. "Jesus..." you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment once you see that it's your first entry.

"that one's my favorite." he kisses your cheek.

"really?"

"mhm." he brings his finger up to move your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.

"what would i write, noel?" your brain returns to his previous question.

he shrugs. "maybe this time you could totally lose yer shit and talk about how i'm in your bed..." he drawls his words, moving over you again to pepper kisses all over your face.

you smack his face. "you're so annoying."

he smiles.

"fuck, you have a really pretty smile" you blurt out.

he widens his eyes. "some really great author wrote about it once. said sumthin like 'its the prettiest one they've ever seen?'" he taunts you.

"I hate you," you groan, trying to hide your face.

"well, I love you." he says it so casually.

you freeze, slowly removing your head from the pillow. you told each other the same thing last night, but now it feels more real. especially because the thought of meg arrives in your head.

"noel." you cover your mouth in pure horror.

"what?" his thumb brushes your shoulder softly.

"what about your girlfriend?"

he sighs. "I broke up with her."

your eyes nearly bug out of your head. "what?"

he nods solemnly. "yeah, uh-"

you sit up in bed, grabbing the sheet along with you as you sink back against the headboard and prepare for him to tell you.

"after I saw your letters, I noticed me and meg...we're always playing around, us. I don't want that, y'know? I want sumthin' real. and yer like...the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

your heart flutters. he's seen so many other pretty women before, an he chose you.

"was she mad?" you ask while biting your lip.

"nah," he shrugs it off. "we were drifting apart. she saw it too. and I've seen her give eyes to some posh artist who lives in new york...so"

"oh" you nod slowly.

"d'ya want breakfast?" he asks.

you nod. "do you need help finding things?" you ask as he moves down the hall.

"nah, i made ya tea before, remember?" he calls back to you.

you chuckle softly.

°˖➴

9/26/97

dear birdie, i have to say you take the crown with the cutest laugh i've ever heard. i saw you talkin to that lad at your desk, and i watched the way you tucked your pretty hair behind your ear and bit your lip. you're the most beautiful girl i've ever laid eyes on, so don't go forgettin' it.

P.S. tell that lad to fuck off. I have a feeling he knows I'm your boyfriend, so he shouldn't be making you laugh like that. (even though you're really adorable when doin' it.)

P.P.S. I love you.

P.P.P.S. don't forget to meet me in the printer room today at four. ;)

- noel

you bite into your apple as you chuckle from his note, looking into room six at his face as he watches you read it. he licks his lips as he takes a sip of coffee. you drop his note into your secret drawer where all his other love letters are, opening the cap of your pen with your teeth as he watches your mouth teasingly.

you start your own note.

9/26/97

dear noel, my laugh could never beat your beautiful smile. besides, matt is gay. he's not hitting on me, so you don't have to worry about that. he's my best friend. regarding your recent concerns, i could never miss the printer room. i've been thinking about it ever since i sat down and opened my computer. i love you.

- your birdie

he watches you write, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as you slowly pull out a blank envelope, opening it and swiping your tongue across the sticky seal. you kept your gaze on him the whole time, slipping the note inside the envelope and sealing it shut. then, you slowly got up out of your seat and walked over to noel's mailbox, slipping it inside.

"sending the chief sexy notes?" matt whispers with a playful gasp from his desk.

you giggled, putting your finger up to your lips and telling him to "shh".

"you know you can get fired for that, right?"

you shrug. "miriam's not the only one who's sending notes now."

"sneakyyyy" matt winks at you and returns to his work.

the door to room six opens, and noel slips out. he reads your note right then and there in front of his mailbox, not waiting to go somewhere secret to read it first. when he's done, he gives you hungry eyes and nods towards the printer room.

he mouths the words, "now."

your lips curl into a large grin as you toss your apple into the trash and walk towards the printer room.

he waits a few minutes before slipping inside not to seem suspicious, and he locks the door behind him.

"hi." he says with a loud sigh after turning around. you two are finally having alone time after a lot of teasing stares across the room.

your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and your legs are crossed.

"hi." you wave adorably, and he nearly groans at the sight of you.

noel backs you up against the wall, crashing his lips against yours. "yer so fuckin sexy," he runs his nose along the length of your neck.

his big hands tuck under your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your lifted off the floor and into his arms. he sits you on top of the printer with a small thud.

"you locked it, right?" you ask through kisses and heavy breaths.

he hums against your lips. "yep. wouldn't wanna get caught by some shy office girl, right?"

you giggle at his reference, remembering how embarrassed you were after walking in on liam and patsy. they had found a new spot now, the printer room being you and noel's hideout.

"i love you." you kissed him hard as his fingers dug into your waist.

"love you more, birdie." he smiles the same smile that did something to your heart all those months ago. and it damaged your heart the same exact way as it did the first time. and you never wanted to forget it.

°˖➴

. ݁₊ ⊹

you're sat at the party around eleven thirty, not able to mutter a coherent word as you and your friends all laughed over a cigarette and a glass of wine.

this party was supposed to be the biggest fashion party of the nineties, but you hadn't seen anyone you didn't already know.

you've met calvin klein, the star of the show, kate moss, other big supermodels and that, but you hadn't seen the artists people were constantly murmuring about all damn night.

word of the posh gallagher brothers was out; and you couldn't help but wonder where they were. why would they be invited to a launch of calvin klein underwear? they weren't even from america, yet here they were.

"fucking hell," you mutter, sniffling and lighting another cigarette.

"holy shit." your friend mia mutters, knocking your shoulder against hers lazily.

"what?" you blink at her.

"its those brothers. the rock gods of britain." she laughs, pointing a finger at them.

you squint hard, trying to make out the two figures, one tall and one short, but they just look like blobs. you're too drunk to take notice of anything, you had completely forgot about the singers and bands you hoped to see here.

"oh." you nod.

"can you even see straight?" she asks with a smile.

"nope." you chuckle, bringing your cig back up to your lips.

"lets go to the bathroom." she says, tugging your arm away from your group of friends and through the crowd of men serving appetizers in calvin klein underwear. you laugh to yourself, wondering where the fuck you are again.

you look behind you at one supermodel, trying to remember what the hell her name was, when your shoulders knocked roughly against someone.

"watch it!" the man scoffed, and you tumbled forward on your brand new heels. thankfully, mia caught you before you could fall flat on your face and embarrass your whole company.

you gave him the middle finger lazily as you trudged towards the women's bathroom.

you couldn't even make out his face. shorter lad, walking past you like he owned the place, blurred dark sunglasses draped over his eyes.

mia pushes open the metal door, leading you inside first. you threw your head back in exhaustion, taking in the cool air of the bathroom. it was so humid outside, cluttered people and the smell mixed perfume with cocaine and cigarette smoke.

"fuck, mia. i drank too much." you shook your head, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

"i know. surprised you haven't puked yet." she grabs a paper towel and runs it under cold water, swiping it across the skin of your forehead.

you wrinkle your forehead at the cool sensation, relaxing against the counter.

"i completely forgot i was working tonight." you groan.

she chuckles. "everybody forgot they were working and turned calvin's party into a coke den."

you hum in response, only half listening and drifting off to sleep. she dabs the towel against your face again, waking you up fully. you stretch your shoulders, trying to remember what you did tonight.

you arrived at nine, had a couple drinks, talked with friends, then met business partners, snuck a kiss with the model you were secretly with, and then sunk down on the couch of doom. one cig. another. one glass of wine. then another.

"have you seen michael?" mia asks as she swipes a shade of red across her soft lips.

"uhh. no. why?" you run a lazy hand down your face.

"oh, come on, y/n. everyone knows the reason he’s here is because you asked calvin for him to work tonight." mia laughs.

you freeze. "what the hell are you talking about?"

"he's hot. i can't blame you." she says with a wink, screwing on the golden cap of her lipstick tube.

"listen, i only snuck in his headshot. that's it."

mia hums in response, giving you a slow nod. "so you aren't sleeping with him?"

your lips part. "mia..."

"you can tell me!" she giggles.

"its casual. hes not my boyfriend or anything." you brush it off.

"mmmkay." she squints, closing her purse.

"wanna get back?" she gestures towards the door.

you nod your head, sliding off the counter and back into the loud party.

. ݁₊ ⊹

around twelve thirty, you're alone at the booth, all of your friends gone. you could only remember mia strictly telling you to stay put while some pretty guy dragged her away to the bathroom.

a cig hangs from your lips. you don't know how many you've had since you sat down, but it definitely was not a good number.

"hey, birdie." someone greets you, their unrecognizable accent shaking you to life.

you open your eyes slowly, only to be met with the one and only noel gallagher. you chuckle, blowing the smoke to the side of your face.

"the rock god of britain." you mutter, the smoke forming a halo above your head.

he squints. "scuse me?"

"nothing." you shake your head.

"you're the bird who sent me flyin' earlier." noel nods his chin towards you, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his denim jeans.

your head jerks back in surprise at his words, and you are sent into a laughing fit. "are you serious?" you say through laughs.

"yeah." he tilts his head with a tiny smile, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

"you sent me flying. i'm the one in heels." you say, relaxing deeper into the couch, crossing your legs.

"well, who told you to wear those?" he snaps back.

"calvin." your jaw tenses as you smirk.

he chuckles. "you work for him?"

you nod your head slowly.

"and he's happy with coke all over his glass table?"

"one, it's not his house. its a venue. two, i don't do drugs."

his eyebrows lift over his dark sunglasses. "you look like you do drugs."

"excuse me?" your tone gets sharper.

he takes a seat across from you at the booth, settling against the cushions.

"there's coke everywhere." he nods his head at the white powder spilled over the table.

"s'just my friends. i stick with cigarettes." you smile.

he huffs a laugh. "very disciplined, you."

you nod your head, taking another drag.

"you're very aggressive when you've been drinking." you observe.

he tilts his head. "what?"

"mhm." you nod slowly. "watch it!" you mimic his thick accent with a tiny laugh.

his lips curl into a smirk. "well, if i can recall, you gave me the finger."

"because you were actin' like a prick." you say with a soft smile, which makes him grin even wider.

you bite your lip to hold in a giggle, watching him carefully.

suddenly, an idea arrives in your head. you reach across the booth to grab his sunglasses, gently removing them from his eyes.

he gasps slightly as your fingers brush his skin. you fold them and place his glasses down on the cushion next to you.

"there." you say, admiring him.

"i don't understand." he says abruptly.

"now I can see you. its like I'm talking to a brick wall." you explained.

"ouch." he holds his chest. "am I really like a brick wall?"

you laugh, burning out your cigarette. "no." you shake your head.

"you have nice eyes." you tilt your head, staring up at him.

he blushes just slightly, secretly enjoying the compliment. "thanks." he scratches his neck.

you smile.

"you're different from any other bird I've ever met." he blurted.

your expression softens. "i bet i am."

you avert your eyes for a split second, someone catching your eye.

michael.

you gulp, trying to steady your heartbeat as you see him talk to a group of young girls. noel's smile fades, and he squints at you. "you alright, birdie?"

you nod slowly, trying to peel your eyes away from the man behind noel. he turns around slowly, following your eyes. when his eyes catch on michael, he laughs. "him?"

your brows furrow as noel points behind him at michael. "uhh, what?" you swallow roughly. noel chuckles. "you like that lad with the panties on?"

you sigh, trying not to blush. you drop your head into your hands as noel has a laugh. "stoppp" you groan.

"sorry." he says, wiping at his eyes.

"its fine."

"he yer boyfriend?" noel asks.

your eyes widen before you huff a laugh. "no, we're just casual."

he squints in thought. "fuck's that s'posed to mean?"

"it means we aren't dating, but-"

"but you're sleeping with him?" noel asks slowly.

you sigh. "yeah."

"ah." he nods slowly, looking back at michael.

"sleeping with an underwear model," he sings as he reaches into the pockets of his jeans for a lighter.

you roll your eyes, watching him pull out a cig from your box on the table.

"how's that, then?" he asks while lighting his cig.

you grimace. "how's what?"

he chuckles. "nowt. just thought he was gay and that"

you don't know if you should laugh or punch his arm. "oh my God, michael is not gay."

"michael?" he widens his eyes.

"yeah," you say shyly, running a few fingers through your frizzy hair.

"hm. michael the underwear model. and you."

you roll your eyes. "and what is it about me now?"

he chuckles. "dunno. i don't see you with someone like him."

you lick your bottom lip slowly. "and who do you see me with?"

noel's eyes drift down to your lips quickly before returning to your big, pretty eyes.

"somebody who isn't walking around in underwear serving hors d'oeuvres, i'll tell ya that much"

you giggle lightly. "do you see me with a rockstar?"

his lips part, but nothing comes out. you widen your eyes, waiting for his answer.

"you're quite confident, aren't you?" he says, scratching his stubble.

you shrug playfully. "maybe."

"you mean someone like me?" he asks.

you nod.

"that depends." he admits.

you tilt your head in confusion. "on what?"

"on if you can keep things 'casual' with rockstars just like you can with your underwear model." he plucks at the cuff of his shirt.

you scoff, clucking your tongue.

. ݁₊ ⊹

noel presses you against the wall of your apartment, and you laugh as his fingers apply pressure at your waist.

"what's so funny?" he asks, his lips at your ear.

"it tickles." you giggled wrapping your fingers around his neck.

he squeezes your hip again, and you throw your head back in uncontrolled laughter. "stop" you hit the collar of his leather jacket.

he chuckles. "you have a really nice smile."

your expression softens as you grin even wider. "yeah?"

he nods once, his thumb coming up to your soft face to rub circles on your cheekbone.

"you're so pretty." he says, shaking his head.

you don't say anything, the pressure of your heart knocking against your ribs is louder than words could ever speak.

"liam always gets the pretty birds." noel says with a tilted smile.

"who's liam?"

noel chuckles. "seriously?"

you nod adorably.

"he's me brother. all the women cling to him." noel shakes his head with a laugh.

"the tall one? walking around with the jacket on even though it was like ninety degrees?" you guess.

"that's liam." noel giggles.

you stare into his blue eyes for a long minute, letting them soak you in, before you whisper, "you think i'm pretty?"

he tilts his head, swiping his soft thumb across your freckles. "i think you're absolutely beautiful."

you instantly blush, about to thank him before he crashed his lips against yours, pulling you into a deep, unhurried kiss.

you didn't have to rush with him, it was like he was trying to learn your body and how you moved with him.

his hands traced your whole body, moving from your waist, to your hip, and trailing up your sides to grab your face. your hands stayed fisted in his hair, moving your head while you kissed him.

his hands moved from your hips to your thighs, picking you up in one swift motion. you gasped and then giggled lightly, enjoying how he carried you back through your apartment.

"where's your bedroom, love?" he asked softly, your noses bumping. he acted as if the weight of you in his hands was like nothing, but your brain kept spiraling as to how he had the strong ability to hold you for so long.

"make a right." you whispered against his lips.

his grip on your back moves to your thighs, kicking the door open with his shoe as you fall onto the comfy sheets together.

you laugh wildly at the impact, watching him leave your side to remove his sneakers. he smiles, untying his laces and throwing them in the corner of your room.

he settles over you again, his arms a cage around your head, moving down to kiss you deep. you place your hands on his chest to steady him, and his eyebrows furrow.

"what's wrong?" he asks, brushing a few strands of your shiny hair behind your ear.

"i want to see you." you whisper, bringing your fingers to remove his glasses again.

you don't know why he keeps them on, or why he's so insecure.

"don't hide from me." you whisper softly.

"sorry." he apologizes, shying away.

"look at me." you grab his cheeks in your hands, bringing his face down to kiss you again.

"sorry. i'm sorry, love." he mutters, peppering kisses across your soft skin, bunching his fingers around your dress to gain access to kiss your stomach.

you giggle as he kisses down your stomach, and he stops.

"whats so funny?" he asks again.

"it tickles." your cheeks turn red.

"everything tickles with you." he shakes his head.

"sorry." you bite your lip.

"s'fine." he runs his nose along your neck, the softness of his skin against yours immediately providing comfort between you two.

"can i carry on?" he asks, his lips at your temple as he rubs teasing circles on your waist.

you nod eagerly.

. ݁₊ ⊹

you wake up to the sound of shuffling around your room, footsteps travelling across the floor and the belt across the denim of jeans.

your eyes flutter open as you toss and turn in bed, sitting up on your elbow to see noel moving around your room.

"are you leaving?" you ask, a hint of sadness in your voice.

his head snaps around to see you, face still scrunched from sleep and your messy hair adorably falling over your face.

you move the blanket up to cover your chest from the cool morning breeze, and he walks over to you after buckling his belt.

"i've gotta go, love. plane to catch." he places his fingers under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you pout, relaxing back against the pillow. "i'll miss you."

his face brightens at your comment, and he gently reaches for your hand. his lips rub against your knuckles, pressing a few soft kisses on the inside of your palm. "i know. i'll miss you too."

you sit up again, scooting closer to him who was standing above you.

"will you be back?" you ask, looking up at him through your long lashes and sad eyes.

it breaks him to have to leave. "north america tour next month. i'll be back." he runs his fingers through your soft hair, trying to memorize everything about you before he leaves.

"i'm sorry, love." he whispers apologies into your hair, but you nod in understanding.

"it's okay."

"i didn't wanna walk out on you like this- I mean, I wouldn't if I didn't have a flight"

you cup his cheek. "its okay, noel. last night was fun."

"it was." he repeats, looking into your soft, tired eyes.

you move out of bed to clasp your bra and put on your faded sleep shirt, tying your hair into a loose rubber band.

"you look so pretty like this." noel rubs circles on your waist through your sleep shirt, and you melt into him.

he kissed your neck once, then your jaw, and then the tip of your nose.

"i'll see you around."

you smile, waving as he steps out the door of your apartment.

"oh, wait." you call him back.

he turns around in curiosity.

"you left your glasses." you hand him his black sunglasses.

he stares at them laying in your palm, and smiles. "keep 'em. you're the one who taught me to stop hiding behind the wall."

you smirk, gripping onto his sunglasses like its the only thing of his you can hold on to.

"have a safe flight." you whisper.

he slides out the front door, and you're left alone in your apartment. but somehow, you feel that he's still with you.

. ݁₊ ⊹

1995.

you and liam had been going out for one week. planned dates like walks across the river or going record shopping together. occasional fights between you occured, of course. like that one time in the record store...

"how the fuck could you never have heard of the stone roses?" liam practically shouted, waving their newest album second coming in your face.

"i haven't! can you just stop grilling me for it?" you hissed at him, grabbing a lennon record.

"everyone knows who they are. everyone." he shook his head.

"obviously not everyone if i havent" you said while brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

"fuckin mad." he shook his head.

you looked over at the cash register, and the woman was staring at you two carefully. like she was thinking about how liam gallagher was in her store, and more importantly, arguing with his new mystery girl.

you cleared your throat. "uh, liam." you whispered.

"what, princess?" he turned his focus to you.

you punched his shoulder. the fuck did he say?

the woman gasped. you turned your head, looking at her again.

shit. you were literally trying to ask him to act like you guys were in love, but he just had to be a dick.

"i said don't call me that" you hissed.

he mocked your expression, blowing a raspberry.

"yer so annoying. but people're staring, so act like ya like me"

you crossed your arms over your chest. "but i dont"

"i said act like it, pretty."

you just glared at him. "fine."

you leaned forward for his hand, guiding him down the other aisle.

"you want me to pretend i like the stone roses? or hold your hand while we listen to a beatles song? what do you want?" you asked.

"yer not gonna pretend because everyone likes the roses" he shot back.

"eh. not me" you tilted your head.

his expression turned dark. "you've. never. even. heard. of. them." he hissed, ready to absolutely lose it.

turns out, you also liked pissing him off.

"lets listen to it. c'mon." he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the small booth in the back with a "second coming" record in his hand. he pulled back the curtain, taking you into the listening station. he passed you headphones and you sat on the small bench.

౨ৎ

"so...you've been pretty quiet." liam nudged your shoulder.

you and liam were walking along the boardwalk again, this time with cinnamon covered pretzels in your hands that you promised he couldn't resist.

"mhm. good pretzel." you said while chewing.

he chuckled, but it soon faded. "what'd ya think?"

your eyebrows furrowed as you placed your hand up to your mouth to chew and talk appropriately.

"bout what?" you asked, licking a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar off your thumb.

he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smile.

"bout the roses." he tried to pull himself back into the conversation.

"oh. they were good." you said.

his eyes widened. "yeah, anddd......"

"and i liked the rhythm?" your brow perked up.

"did you? you dont seem so sure." he teased.

"you just didn't say anything great about them. i was curious i guess" liam added.

"oh well, they are. that kinda music i cant really put into words. i just kinda...feel." you explained.

"exactly." he whispered.

you gave him a kind smile.

౨ৎ

you would always fight. but it would always end in a nice experience. you never ate pretzels with a rockstar before. he was good company when he wasn’t a pain in the arse.

tonight, tom planned a "hot date" for you and liam, or so he called it. you and liam both winced at his choice of words.

liam told you to wear something hot and surprisingly, you didn't attack him. you just said okay with a very concerning look on your face.

here you were, standing outside his flat again. you were wearing a short black dress, tiny spaghetti straps hanging off your shoulders and tiny black heels. you wore your signature fur coat, a cig hanging from your fingers.

you shivered at the thought of last time you came here. you hoped he didn't have another woman in his room. you knocked on the door to his, and waited a few seconds before it flew open. this time, he wasn’t sweating.

he opened the door with a childish wave, opening the door wider so you could slip inside. when his gaze traveled down your body, his eyes widened.

"holy hell" he shook his head.

you groaned. "stopp, liamm"

"come inside, then" he nodded, leaning lazily in the doorway.

you slipped inside his flat, taking notice of the weirdly clean area of his.

"wow. you cleaned." you noticed.

"shut up" he said, walking down the hallway.

you laughed, adjusting the straps of your dress.

he disappeared into the bedroom for two minutes, doing God knows what.

"y'know, you clean up pretty well" he called to you from down the hall.

you smiled, but quickly covered it up. he came to your area in the middle of the room, a big smile on his face.

you snickered before fully bursting into laughter.

"liam, you look like a five year old did your tie" you said through laughs.

he frowned. "what? I tried ma'best"

you tried to hold in your laughter, taking a deep breath. then, your expression softened.

"let me help you" you walked closer to him, latching onto his tie.

his eyes didn't leave your the whole time you pulled at the fabric, but you tried not to look him in the eye. his intense gaze burning a hole through you.

"there. all better" you said, patting his chest once before picking up your cig again and giving it a tiny puff.

"thanks" he said, clearing his throat.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"tom." liam said, looking at you. he walked over to open the door.

"hey, lad." tom shook liam's hand and slipped inside. "she's here?" tom asked.

"behind you, man" liam patted his shoulder.

you waved lazily with your cig hanging out of your mouth.

"hey." you said while taking a drag.

"evening." tom greeted you.

you nodded awkwardly, taking a seat on liam's sofa.

"if you get ash in my pretty couch ill hurt ya" liam pointed a stern finger at you.

you blew a raspberry. "there's already ash in the couch, dickhead. from your own cigarettes"

"doesn't mean you should keep doin it" liam shot back, adjusting his tie on his neck in the mirror.

you dabbed your cig on the ashtray shortly before flashing the middle finger at him.

"calm down, you two" tom shook his head.

"got you a reservation at that italian restaurant on the boardwalk. the paparazzi knows you're always around there, so it'll be an easy target" tom informed you guys.

"how long do i have to keep dating this fucker?" you asked while taking a drag of your cig.

"hey!" liam frowned.

"just askin'" you shrugged.

"until the album releases." tom nodded.

౨ৎ

you and liam were sat in a small booth at the restaurant, the dim lighting projecting a radiant glow on your face. you pressed your cig to your lips, inhaling slowly as you closed your eyes. liam played with the crinkled menu as he watched your eyes softly shut as you blew the smoke out from the side of your mouth.

you slowly opened your eyes, finally catching on to liam.

"what's up with you, then?" you asked with a brow perked up.

he snapped out of his trance, clearing his throat. "huh?"

"why'r you lookin at me like that?" you asked again, bringing your cig to your lips.

"i wasn't" he scoffed obnoxiously, looking down at the menu and pretending to think about his food choice of the night.

okay, something was up. "liam, be honest."

he stilled, his jaw tightening as his cheeks went red like he was a toddler caught stealing candy. he slowly looked back at you.

"is there sumthin in my teeth?" you asked abruptly.

his shoulders relaxed as he grimaced. "what-"

"be honest. if there's sumthin in my teeth tell me. is my hair messy? did my mascara run?-"

"stop. just- stop." he interrupted with a tiny chuckle.

you were taken aback. there wasn't anything in your teeth?

"ya look beautiful. there's no shit caught in yer teeth" he admitted.

"oh." you said. then, your heart jumped. "oh."

he pretended not to hang on those words too long. "so what'll you have?" he asked.

you just smiled slowly. "you think i'm beautiful?"

"of course yer beautiful." liam shrugged it off.

you grinned now, placing your chin between your fingers.

"what about the lasagna?" liam asked, squinting down at the menu.

"what about me is beautiful?" you asked instead, not letting up.

"c'mon, love-" he scoffed.

"no im serious. i thought you just try to piss me off when you call me 'pretty', but, tell me." you urged him.

he sat up straighter. "you have a nice smile." liam said.

you started to blush, but tried to cover it up with a subtle sip from your wine glass.

"y'know, yer fit...nice figure?" liam said.

you squinted. "is that a question, liam?"

"dunno. don't wanna offend ya"

you giggled.

"you think i have a nice figure?" you continued to peck at him.

he made a face. one that said, are you serious?

"don't fish fer it. ya know you have a good figure" he placed his wine glass up to his lips.

you hummed in response, taking another sip yourself.

౨ৎ

you just let it happen, not even noticing how you two requested a second bottle of red wine and the way you two slowly scooted closer to each other. your head was between your fingers, feeling a little tipsy. liam definitely drank more than you.

you stared up at liam, hearing him ramble about how he accidentally pissed on noel's stereo when they were teenagers. you laughed, but you were only half listening. he looked down at you with a smile, trying to grab your attention again and asking you something like, "y'know?"

"totally" you responded cutely.

you nodded slowly, just watching the way his blue eyes fluttered as he spoke, but all his words were muffled.

"love? you l'right?" he asked.

you nodded. "totally." you said again to him, still not listening.

he stopped talking, looking down at your soft lips so quickly you almost didn't even catch it.

"you sure?" he chuckled.

you blinked once, waking up and officially in the present again. "yeah."

"why r ye lookin' at me like that?" he squinted with a smile.

"like what?" you asked with a sigh.

"like you wanna kiss all over my pretty face" liam said, puckering his lips in your face.

you sat up straight, bringing your hand into your lap as you started to twist your fingers into knots. you avoided his eyes.

"you sure yer good? i was just jokin" liam said a bit softer now.

you looked up at him with puppy eyes, and his expression curled into concern. he'd never seen you look so sincere, you usually always put on a brave face whenever you talked to him.

"talk to me." he said, leaning his head into his elbow on the tablecloth.

you sighed, looking down at your lap to fidget with your nails.

"this whole thing is overwhelming" you sighed deeply.

"dating me? s' not that hard." liam shrugged.

you chuckled softly. "i know. just..."

you pushed the thought away before it could hit you, remembering his last words.

"like you wanna kiss all over my pretty face" liam said, puckering his lips in your face.

"maybe cause i do wanna kiss you, idiot," you thought.

"its nothin." you gulped.

you couldn't let it get to you. you don't want to kiss him. he's a rockstar, a womanizer, he doesn't care about you or anything. all of this is a pr stunt. all of this is fake. none of it is real. you and liam aren't real.

you breathed heavily, your chest thumping as you scooted out of the booth, clutching your heart. "excuse me, i have to use the ladies room" you said, your voice a tiny squeak.

liam's brow furrowed in confusion. "what the fuck.." he muttered as soon as he saw you scurry down the hall and pull open the door to the restroom.

౨ৎ

your heart was nearly begging to jump out of your chest. you tried to slow your breathing as your knuckles went white from gripping the edge of the porcelain sink. your cheeks were red and hot, your face as pale as someone about to pass out.

oh God, you were going to pass out.

no. water. more water.

you submerged your face in the sink bowl, scrubbing hard and not caring about your makeup.

get it together, you screamed internally, smacking yourself in the face with wet hands.

you heard the door open and close faintly, paying no mind to it as you continued to wash your face and catch your breath. your mind reeled, trying to focus on something else.

the record you bought today. it reminded you of your trip with liam.

the pub. liv. awful music. "tastes like shite." he nodded, holding up his beer.

fuck.

your mind just spiraled until it all drew back to the same conclusion.

liam.

liam.

liam.

you sighed deeply, about to lose it, when...

"you don't look alright, love" someone said from behind you.

you squinted, remembering the voice. liam.

wait- liam?

you whipped your head around, water droplets scattering on the tiled walls as you turned around in shock.

"liam? you can't be in here!" you exclaimed.

"says who?" he asked, leaning on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"the sign on the door?" you said evidently, trying to steady your breathing.

he leaned off the wall, moving to the side of the door where a paper towel dispenser was. he gave you the brown sheet of paper, and you snatched it, pressing it to your face. when you blinked your eyes and removed the sheet from your face, liam was standing closer to you.

very, very close.

he brought his thumb to the corner of your eye, wiping a black mark of mascara off your skin and then rubbed it on the paper towel, tossing it into the garbage can.

that single swipe across your eye weakened your heart.

"you aren't okay." liam said abruptly.

you scoffed, but it didn't sound genuine. "im fine."

"no yer not" he argued.

"yes i am."

liam squinted. "so what was takin you so long? you passin a joint in here or sum?"

"maybe im on my period." you huffed.

he stilled. "...yer lady thing?"

your expression dropped, and you sighed. "ugh, yes."

he tilted his head. "i don't buy it."

"God, liam. lay off, will ya?" you grabbed another paper towel, this time to dry your hands.

after you threw it in the overfilling trash can and moved towards the metal door handle, liam grabbed your wrist and pressed you back against the tile.

you gasped as the small thud on the wall echoed through your head.

"what are you doing?" you grunted, trying to leave his grasp without looking him in the eye.

his arms were pressed against the wall around both sides of your head, trapping you in with his hips.

"liam, cut it out. i'm fine." you glared at him through your pink cheeks.

"no you aren't. from the second you said 'ladies room' so politely, i knew sumthin was up." he caged you in.

you turned your head, avoiding his eyes, giving him a view of your jawline and soft outline of your cheekbone.

"no one says ladies room." he whispered in your ear.

you tried to steady your breaths, limiting your speaking so you could compose yourself.

he looked in your eyes, searching for an answer. "you really can't tell me?"

you didn't respond, keeping your head turned.

he scoffed, shaking his head. "fine" he whispered; it was barely audible.

he released his cage around your head, letting your body relax as he moved away and towards the door.

just as his hand extended towards the door handle, you decided to let it out.

"kiss me." you said, your voice so small he almost didn't catch it.

his grip on the door handle loosened, and he slowly turned around to face you, your legs going weak on the tile wall as you almost sunk to your feet.

you tried to keep yourself upwards, but the tipsiness plus liam's fucking eyes made you dizzy and hot.

"what?" he asked slowly, checking to see if you actually just asked that or if he was dreaming.

"please. just kiss me." you breathed out.

he walked towards you again, his thumb flying to your cheek.

"you sure?" he questioned cautiously, his thumb rubbing a soothing pattern up and down your soft cheekbone.

you nodded cutely, your eyes big and drunken.

he didn't even wait to slip his tongue in your mouth, immediately closing the distance with that as his first move. your cheeks reddened, your hands going up to fist in his hair.

"shit, liam" you breathed against his lips.

his hands went to your waist, keeping you upright so you wouldn't fall over. his hands roamed your body, trying to remember your shape and almost making sure you were real.

he stopped for a second, "wait, love." he asked softly, moving away from you. his forehead moving to hide in the crook of your neck.

you both breathed heavily together, trying to understand this whole series of events.

"what, liam?" you asked impatiently.

"you sure you don't want me to kiss ya outside? so the paps can see an' stuff?" he asked.

you furrowed your brows. "no, i don't give a fuck about them right now" you dug your fingers into his jacket, pulling his lips to yours again.

"you realize you're kissin' me right now, right?" liam asked through a few teasing kisses.

you hummed against his lips, paying no mind to his words.

"like, you know we're supposed to be fake dating" he said again.

you groaned, continuing to pull him closer.

"I dont think makin out in a loo was part of the deal" he chuckled.

you pulled him back by his hair forcefully, looking him in the eye.

"liam, would you shut the fuck up?" you demanded.

he widened his eyes, but as long as his mouth was shut, you were happy.

you crashed against his lips right after he muttered "bossy" and you spent the next ten minutes tangled in each other in a disgusting, sweaty women's bathroom.

౨ৎ

you emerged from the bathroom with liam, walking down the hall and adjusting your hair. you grabbed his wrist, pulling him back in front of all the people staring you down in the middle of the floor. you smeared a bit of lipstick from the corner of his mouth and then told him he was all good.

"people are starin." he noticed, clearing his throat.

"let em stare." you sighed, sitting back down and taking a sip from your glass of wine.

you saw a white flash of light from your peripheral vision, but you ignored it.

"paps are here." he tapped a finger on his thigh, humming a soft melody as you caught another camera flash.

"liam, kiss me again." you knocked your knee against his to get his attention, making it a dream come true for the paparazzi.

"again? you sure?" he asked cautiously.

"yes- why'r you so hesitant? we're supposed to be dating." you sighed, grabbing his wrist to draw him closer to you on the cushioned seating in the booth.

"you're a little drunk. i don't want you to regret it." he said, his tone more serious than before.

you stilled, taking in the wholeness of this moment.

"i won't." you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he crashed his lips against yours, sending your head back against the cushion, and you giggled as he moved his mouth against yours.

"you're so soft" he whispered, kissing you deeper.

your heart stuttered, immediately grabbing him as close as possible.

"liam" you said through heavy breaths.

"what is it, love?" he stopped near your mouth, letting you take it all in and catch your breath.

his mouth moved to your neck, waiting for your answer as he peppered light kisses all over your throat.

"hm? what's wrong?" his fingers brushed your thigh, stopping his kisses.

"nothing." you breathed out, gripping the strands at the start of his neck.

you needed to say his name to make sure he was real. it was the only thing you could really remember in that moment.

his eyebrows furrowed just slightly, but caught on to your point.

"well, don't stop saying it, ya sound pretty" he kissed your cheek, edging closer to you on the seat.

you chuckled lightly and felt him click his tongue like you were slowly ruining him.

"liam, lets get out of here" you whispered.

he stopped kissing you, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

"why?" he asked. "givin'em a show for free"

you looked around at the couples with wide eyes, taking in the fact that liam gallagher was here on a date with his new "girlfriend", acting wildly inappropriate in this professional atmosphere.

"i think that's why we should leave. plus, our job is to tease the paparazzi." you informed him.

"tease them?" he repeated.

"mhm." you downed the last bit of wine in your glass, gently placing it down on the table.

"we aren't gonna serve them our "relationship" on a silver platter. if they want it, they're gonna chase it." you explained.

he nodded slowly, his lips parted in awe.

"yer one smart bird, y'know that?" he praised.

you smiled softly, but it was laced with danger.

then, you leaned in to whisper in his ear, all innocent: "lets go back to mine." you said, the words rolling off your tongue.

you moved to scoot out of the booth, sliding across the red leather cushioning. you left liam with his lips parted, surprised and his breath taken away by your sudden teasing.

"Christ." he muttered, shaking his head.

౨ৎ

“come in” you twisted the key in the door, kicking the white sliver of wood open with your heel.

the door creaked, giving a view of your dark flat. liam walked inside carefully, and you followed in after him. he examined the place like a police officer as if he found a dead body.

“cute place” he said, squishing one of your fuzzy pink pillows that laid on your sofa.

you went into the kitchen drawer to fish for another cigarette pack. once you found one, you clicked your tongue in luck. you had just run out in your purse and didn't want to have to run to the store before work tomorrow.

“think fast!” liam blurted.

you didn't even get time to question it before he threw the fuzzy pillow at your face. you caught it with one hand while you fumbled with your lighter.

“you're such a dick” you shook your head with a chuckle, throwing it right back at him.

he took a seat on your sofa, closing his eyes and sighing loudly.

“oh i know. it's so stressful dating me, right?”

he grinned, deciding to play along with it.

“ugh so tiring. bleeding me dry and asking for another bottle of super expensive wine,” he groaned.

“you're acting like you can't afford it, rockstar” you shook your head, taking a drag from your cig as you walked closer to him.

he stared at you in the dark lighting of your apartment, watching you slip off your coat and turn on the yellow lamp near your tiny coffee table.

the light created a soft glow on your skin, one he admired and looked like a heavenly ring outlining the shape of your body.

you passed him your cig, letting him take a drag himself.

he sighed, leaning back against your sofa. his adam's apple bobbed as he sighed, and your cheeks reddened. you hoped he couldn’t see your blush in the dim lighting.

you stood in front of him, tilting your head as he passed the cig back to you, his eyes still shut.

all of a sudden, a small little fuzzy creature crawled out of your bedroom and padded across your wooden floors. the glorious kitten trotted over to liam, gently digging its claws into his pants.

he didn't seem affected the first time, thinking you were just trying to annoy him.

“surely you weren't planning on staying over?” you asked.

liam chuckled darkly. “why'd you say that?”

“cause you're literally sleeping on my couch” you took another drag of your cig.

he responded only with a small hum of agreement, even though he was probably only half listening.

a little tug at his pants again.

“aw, liam. did you bring your little pajamas?” you pouted playfully.

his eyes cracked open. “hey. shut it.”

you giggled, a dangerous smirk plastered on your lips.

another tug at his pants, and then a little meow.

“oi, would you stop? you see ‘m tired.” he sighed in frustration.

you furrowed your brows. “im not doing anything.”

“stop touchin me pants” liam grunted.

you looked down at your kitten marsha, snuggling her little furry cheek against the leg of liam's pants.

“that's not me, liam.” you giggled.

he scoffed, not believing you one bit.

“hi, my baby,” you dropped your cig in the ashtray near the lamp and moved to bend down and pick up your tiny black kitten.

liam's brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes wide open now.

“you have a cat?” he asked, his tone full of surprise.

“mhm.” you kissed her little head, adjusting her position in your arms.

you gently caressed the fuzzy skin of her neck, and she enjoyed the small massage.

“he's a cute one” liam smiled.

you stared at him flatly. “she's a girl. her name is marsha.” you sat on the sofa next to liam, rubbing your kitten in your arms as he watched you.

“sorry- did you take offense to that?”

“yes.” you tilted your chin up.

he laughed, shaking his head.

౨ৎ

you and liam sat on your couch, (pretending to) watch the telly. at some points, he'd shift in his seat, and you'd place a hair behind your ear or clear your throat. when your knee touched his, you both blushed like teenagers on their first date. a few little meows escaped marsha, who was curled up in the corner near the televesion.

you excused yourself for a beer, asking if he wanted one. liam nodded his head, and you stuck your head in the fridge to find a beer. you tried to catch your breath, continuously telling yourself this was all fake. but then you remembered the coping methods you used in the bathroom didn't work, and ended with a really sloppy bathroom makeout.

your breathing stuttered and your heart knocked against your chest.

you had two options.

ignore liam, pretend you don't feel anything, and accept the two thousand pounds. then, you walk out of his life and never see him again...or give up.

definitely number one.

you walked back to the couch carefully, measuring the weight of your footsteps. liam noticed, sitting back on your couch like he owned your apartment.

you wanted him to.

you placed the beer bottles down on your glass coffee table, and the glass clashed together.

his eyes shot up to you standing in the middle of the room in front of him. he slowly picked up his beer bottle, trying to ignore you and focus on the telly.

"liam." you cleared your throat.

he peeled his eyes away from the telly. "yeah?" he asked, placing the beer bottle up to his soft lips.

"do you want to practice?" you gulped.

wait- i thought we chose option one?-

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took a sip of beer. "uh..practice what?" he asked hesitantly, rubbing the back of his hand along his mouth to wipe away the excess liquid.

your heart was about to fall out of your chest. you stood awkwardly in front of him, your sweaty fists bunched up and your knuckles white.

you debated doing what you did next, but everything you told yourself in the kitchen went out the window. when you looked at liam, you forgot your fucking name.

you edged closer to him on the couch, your knees hitting his. he looked up at you, your face pale and hesitant for your next move.

you lifted your leg, setting it down on the cushion next to him slowly, watching every ounce of his reaction. as you settled on his lap, his hands hovered above you, scared to touch you.

"what are you doing?" he asked, his voice low as he looked down at you straddling his lap.

you leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. "you can touch me, liam."

his breath stuttered, finally setting his hands on your waist. "like that?"

you bit your lip as you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as his hands squeezed your hips teasingly.

"what are we...uh" he started, taking a big gulp. "practicing?"

"how you're gonna touch me in public." you purred in his ear.

"oh yeah?" his heart beat faster.

you hummed in response, raking your hands down his chest.

he closed his eyes, throwing his head back as your fingers ran up to his neck. "i fucking hate you." you whispered.

he stilled for a second, and then he laughed. "why is that? too pretty for you?"

you run your nails up to his face, your palms scratching lightly against his stubble. "you've been stuck in my head all day. fucking menace" you clicked your tongue.

"you've been thinkin' about me?" liam grinned.

"fuck yes" you groaned. "you're the most annoying person on this planet."

he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, and your jaw tightened at the shift. "if i'm so annoying why do you look so comfortable on my lap?" he asked.

"i'm not comfortable. i'm fucking miserable." you gritted through your teeth.

"why don't you let me help with that, hm?" liam suggested, slipping his fingers under your thighs.

in one blurry motion, you're in his arms, and he's carrying you down the hallway, kissing your temple softly and asking which way your bedroom is.

he kicks open your door, the wood creaking as it welcomes you two into the warm lighting of your bedroom.

"liam," you plead.

"what?" he asks, kissing your forehead.

"we're getting good at this." you whisper.

he smiles. "way too good."

౨ৎ

you woke up early that morning to the excruciating sound of the telephone.

"fuck" you groaned, rubbing your eyes as you quickly put on your bra, moving into the kitchen for the phone.

"what?" you asked lazily.

"is liam with you?" a woman asked over the phone.

your eyebrows furrowed.

"how do you- who is this?" you stood up straighter, your eyes wide awake now.

"please- just tell him that he left his things at kris's and to come get them soon."

your heart dropped. "what?" you mumbled.

"who are you?" you asked louder, more infuriated.

the woman breathed heavily over the phone. "tom gave me this number. said you might be with him."

"i don't understand-" you ran a shaky hand through your hair.

then, just like that, the line clicked.

your heart shattered.

he was seeing other women? even after you told him to stop? even after the day you scolded him for it, after your amazing time last night.

and he was in your bed.

unaware.

a wave of anger washed over you shortly before the tears came down. your emotions flickered, not knowing to be more angry or more sad.

you felt your knees weak, your heart broken- something you never let yourself feel.

it was always just flings. you weren't meant for falling in love.

you hung up the phone in the cradle roughly, the phone cord shaking as you stormed into your bedroom.

liam slept peacefully in your bed, completely clueless.

your heart beat loudly, and you pulled the blankets off his legs.

"oi!-" he protested as you opened the curtains, the sunlight landing right in his eyesight.

"get up." you declared with a sniffle.

"what the fuck, love?" he asked, scrambling for his jeans on the floor by the side of the bed he was sleeping on.

"get out." you pointed your arm out towards your door.

"what?" he asked, squinting at you through the sunlight.

"i said get out. get out of my house!" you yelled, your hands fisting in your hair.

fear washed over him, confused and afraid of you. "what the hell, baby?" he asked, finishing the last button on his jeans.

you looked up at him with red eyes, your cheeks tear stained.

"don't fucking call me that," you spat.

his head jerked back at your tone. "would you tell me what's going on?"

"what's going on?" you repeated, voice low.

you shook your head with a laugh as you collected his shirt and jacket from off your bedroom floor. nothing was amusing. it was more of mocking him.

you gave yourself to him, allowed yourself to fall in love with him, and he didn't even care for you.

"i fucking trusted you." your voice squeaked as another tear escaped your eyes.

"i don't understand-" liam started.

"kris called. you left your clothes at her house." you slammed the pile of his clothes against his chest as tears rolled down your cheeks.

and then it hit him.

liam's expression dropped. "what?-"

"get out before i throw you out." you said, wiping your tears.

"love, it's not what you think-"

"it's exactly what i think, you dirty fucking bastard!" you smacked him hard in the face, the sound of your palm echoing through the house.

his head flew to the side, and he held his face in pain.

"fuck" he adjusted his jaw.

"im sick of you." you spat.

liam looked up at you, shaking his head. "can you just let me explain?" he shouted back.

"there is nothing to explain!" you yelled ten times louder.

he fell silent, afraid and misunderstood.

"good luck, liam. i'm really sure kris is willing to take you right in front of the paparazzi's face." you gritted through your teeth.

his lips parted in surprise before he shook his head once, retreating out the front door of your flat.

once he was gone, you slammed the bathroom door, sinking to your feet in the bathtub as you let the spray of water cool you off.

it didn't help.

nothing helped.

you were shattered. and liam would never understand love, just like you thought you didn't before you met him.

౨ৎ

(important note: this is only part one! im aiming for two long parts </3)

1995.

you're head pounded like hell. drinking was not a great choice last night. you've had way too many hangovers in your lifetime, it didn't hurt that bad. last night was the most you've drank in a while. you went out on a date with some buff guy who wouldn't shut up about his gym routine. when you ditched him, you just went back to the pub. not a good choice.

well, it was time to get to work. again. at the pub. you sighed, slipping your jacket on and locking up the craft store you worked at that was just around the corner from your flat.

౨ৎ

sweat dripped down your forehead, your chest rising and falling rapidly. the bus was late. super late. reports were that it got delayed, but all you cared about was making your shift. the bus was crowded, stopping nearly at every stop, you decided to get off half way and run the rest of the way to the pub.

you arrived at the pub at nine, the crowd heavy and the bar packed.

"shit." you muttered, looking up at the clock on the wall. your shift started at eight thirty, but it's a good thing liv covered for you.

she was cleaning a few glasses with a rag when she spotted you. she slammed the glass down on the counter, widening her eyes.

you sighed, running behind the counter.

her arms flew open, and her expression said "where the hell were you?"- well, up until she actually yelled, "where the hell were you?"

"sorry, liv. the bus got delayed." you wiped sweat off of your forehead, removing your jacket.

"so why'r ya sweating?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

liv had short dark hair, the fringe of her bangs falling slightly over her eyes. she chewed pink bubblegum, her lips smacking as she talked. liv was you're best friend you met in uni. you even graduated together, and stayed friends while working small jobs. her parents had a bit more money, helping her out while you were on your own, working two jobs.

"I ran." you said, trying to catch your breath.

she patted your shoulder. "go get your uniform on before jesse murders ya"

"got it." you snapped your fingers, carrying your jacket to the employees only room. there was nothing in there except for your lockers and the "uniform" stashed inside.

you removed your shirt, only in your black lacy bra. you clasped your apron around your waist, and then froze.

you felt someone's presence, turning your head around.

jesse.

you sighed, shaking your head. "what do you want?"

a cigarette hung out past his lips, and he chuckled. "just making sure you do yer job"

"mhm." you nodded, turning back to unfold your white button up. "i'm doing it."

he didn't say anything. you turned around to face him after a while. why was he still here?

"can I get dressed in private?" you asked with a furrowed brow.

he just sighed, jesse's eyes never leaving yours. "are we good?"

you froze.

you and jesse broke up two months ago. you couldn't take his constant drinking problems, so you kicked him out of your flat. but you two were already working together, considering that's how you met. he got promoted, being the pub's manager. it was awkward at times.

"what do you mean are we good? this ended, jes. I don't know how many times I have to tell you." you shook your head.

"you know I could just fire you for speaking to me like that" he giggled.

"you wouldn't. I'm the best part of this place." you shot him a sarcastic smile as you slid your button up over your head.

"by the way, boss. you should just eliminate these stupid uniforms. this shirt is way too tight" you grunted, adjusting the buttons in your small mirror that hung on the wall of your locker.

"just buy a new one." jesse shrugged.

you sighed, screwing open your red lipstick. you applied it carefully, making sure not to mess it up with the dim lighting of the locker room.

"jes, can you work on getting a new lightbulb in here? so fuckin dark" you clucked your tongue.

"i miss you." he blurted out.

you froze, trying to process the words he just said. you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the lighting was too dark for him to see your expression in the mirror.

you turned around, walking up to him.

"it wasn't gonna work, jes." you said before leaving and shutting the door to the locker room behind you.

౨ৎ

nine thirty. the counter is full of sweaty people commanding drinks.

ten thirty. the pub is still packed, the bass thumping through the floors.

eleven thirty. an actual decent song plays. they usually play shit music.

you work at a late venue, so you'll be open all night. your head still pounds. the shit music isn't helping.

eleven forty five. "hey pretty, one cold lager" a man tapped his hand on the counter.

it caught your attention. not only his hand startling you, but the nickname. you made a disgusted face at him.

"my name is right here." you pointed at your name tag, turning your head around to go prepare his drink.

he smiled, thrown off by your reaction.

"one cold lager." you slid the beer to him.

"yea, thanks pretty-" he stopped himself.

your eyes widened.

he just sipped his beer, not minding to correct himself.

"good?" you asked, leaning on the counter.

"tastes like shite." he nodded, holding up his beer.

your expression dropped. dick.

you walked away, your eyes not leaving his. you saw him before. as you constructed other drinks at the other side of the counter, you squinted at him. then you started to check the boxes.

-old lad from school? no.

-past boyfriend? no.

-coworker who left and actually got a life? couldn't be.

-famous dude? no.

you internally laughed at that one. until it clicked. you slid an old man his guinness when it hit you. wait. he was famous.

-rockstar? yes.

ohhhhhh. liam. the fuck was his last name?

౨ৎ

it came back to you when liv was telling you something on you're ten minute break.

"and he was acting like he owned the place- all I wanted was a cig, not to get in bed with him- y'know?" liv asked you.

you weren't listening.

liv called your name a few times. then she waved a hand in your face. you finally snapped out of it, taking the cig from her fingers.

"gallagher." you whispered and shook your head as you blew the cigarette smoke out past your lips.

"you're whack today, you know?" liv shook her head, going back inside.

you spent a few more minutes with your cig before stomping on it with your sneaker and heading back inside the pub.

you wondered about him. what the papers said. "gallagher loves the groupies" or other shit that randomly arrived in your head about how much of a dickhead he was.

then, you heard someone call you. it was only the most dickhead thing to do. of course it was him. you whipped your head around to see him wave at you.

"hey, pretty! c'mere."

you glared at him, slowly walking over.

"can I get another?" liam asked.

you crossed your arms over your chest. "I thought it tasted shit."

"it does."

you squinted at him. alright then.

"you could have asked her. or her." you pointed around the room to the other girls behind the counter.

"I know but its fun to see you pissed off." he grinned.

what?

you just took his empty glass, refilling it. normally you'd just give a person a new glass but he was being annoying. fun to see you pissed off? sure. you could play this game.

you slammed it down on the counter. "refill." you called to him shortly before walking away, returning to your job.

౨ৎ

at one fifteen, you returned to his spot at the counter, taking a few other orders. you caught sight of liam, this time a redhead wrapped on his lap, his hands stuffed deep in her hair. his lips worked at her neck while she laughed loudly. if anything, it disgusted you.

how many women did he do this with every single night?

when his lips returned to her mouth, he finally opened his eyes to look at you. you were glaring at him while making some weird pink drink a girl with a high-pitched voice that really pissed you off ordered.

liam slid his hand from her waist to rest lower near the end of her hips, and you just blinked. what were you gonna do?

he loved pissing you off, so there's that. but you really didn't care. was he trying to flirt with you while making out with another girl?

dick-ish thing to do.

she whispered something in his ear and he smiled and nodded. next thing you knew, she dragged him to the back of the pub. maybe the bathroom? oh Lord.

౨ৎ

he came back to his seat at the counter around one thirty, running a shaky hand through his hair. he was sweating like you did when you ran for the pub earlier tonight.

you chuckled to yourself continuing to clean the glass in your hands. you shook your head with a big grin plastered on your face.

"what's so funny, then?" liam leaned his elbows on the counter.

you continued to laugh. "s'funny is all"

"yeah, what is?" he asked again.

you wiped your nose, and tried to compose yourself.

"you fucked her, then?" you matched his position on the counter.

he wasn't expecting that.

liam scoffed. "that's none of yer business"

"I'd like to disagree with that. you were looking at me while touching her, why is that?" you squinted.

he shook his head, trying to deflect from the topic, teasing the rim of his glass with his index finger.

"what's that, liam? at a loss for words now?" you teased with a playful pout.

his eyes shot up to look at you. "wha'd ya say?"

"liam." you repeated.

he squinted. "you know my name?"

"yeah and you know mine but you just refuse to use it. maybe I should start calling you somethin" you muttered.

he chuckled. "and what would you call me?"

"dickhead." you smiled enthusiastically.

he huffed a laugh. "yer impossible."

"you aren't the first to tell me." you patted the counter once and set off again to give out drinks and bartend.

౨ৎ

two thirty. time to leave. finallyyyyyy.

you made your way over to the dressing room, taking off your guinness stained button up and threw it into your shoulder bag. a cold shiver ran up your spine, being only in your bra again.

it was liv's turn to lock up tonight, but she scored a hottie at the counter and you told her to go for it.

now you were all alone, or so you thought.

you sighed deeply, rubbing your temples.

"hard day?" someone asked.

you jumped at the noise, whipping your head around.

"liam?!?" you asked, your eyes widening.

"what?" he shrugged.

"you scared the shit out of me, dickhead." you clutched your heart.

then, you looked down. you were only in your bra. shit.

you looked up at liam, and he had a lazy grin plastered on his face.

"can you turn around you perv?" you spat.

"cant" he laughed.

ewwww.

you scoffed, turning around yourself. you put on your regular shirt, adjusting your shoulder bag. after locking your locker, you slammed it shut and retied your shoelaces.

you looked up at liam. "how did you even get back here?"

"the door was open." he shrugged.

this was too much for you tonight. of course the door was open but it had a fucking sign that said employees only. he shouldn't be in here.

"don't fuck with me gallagher." you shook your head.

"its the truth."

"it says employees only. I thought you were a rockstar, not a bartender." you sighed, heading for the door.

he grabbed your wrist.

"what did you just say?" he asked.

you were confused. did you offend him or something?

"you're a rockstar. not a bartender." you repeated slowly.

he smiled, crossing his arms. "so you know who I am then?"

"I know who you are. liam gallagher. frontman of oasis. the life changing 'band of the century' shit you like to say with your cocky tone," you rambled, using your hands while you talked.

his eyes widened, nodding sarcastically.

"you're with a new woman every night, and your brother writes all the songs you sing. sound about correct?"

he just stared for a second. then, he started to clap. agonizingly slow.

"wow. I'm impressed. were any of those supposed to be insults, pretty?" he tilted his head.

"all of them, actually." you matched his tone, tilting your head as well.

you turned to leave, but then returned to his space. "and don't call me that." you pointed a stern finger at him and then aimed it into his chest.

"its the truth, though, isn't it?" he called to you as you exited the locker room.

you called to him from the front door of the pub, "get out of there or I'm locking you in there all night"

he scoffed. "you wouldn't"

"oh I would. I'd lock you in here for sooo long,"

liam rolled his eyes, but you couldn't see considering there was a whole room seperating the two of you.

"so long that you're groupies are gonna have to find another frontman to mess around with"

he finally erupted from the locker room, giving you eyes with daggers in them. you smiled sarcastically.

"get out of my pub, gallagher"

he smiled. "i'd be honored to."

౨ৎ

"what do you want me to do?" liam shouted at his manager.

"liam, just stop fooling around. the press is taking the ball and running with it" tom shook his head.

"he cant help 'imself" noel chuckled, slapping liam's thigh.

liam shot noel a glare. "shut the fuck up."

"chill" noel shook his head.

"liam, you have a bad image right now. fooling around is the whole picture for you. it doesn't have to be."

"so what, you suggest I get a girlfriend?" liam rolled his eyes.

tom froze, his eyes darting to noel's.

noel smiled. "that's not a bad idea."

"what? fuck no-" liam shook his head, getting up out of the office chair.

"liam, don't leave." tom called to him.

liam lingered in the doorway. "what?" he gritted through his teeth.

"just hear me out. we give you a staged girlfriend. paparazzi photos. the press calms down with your bad image and starts taking you for the man who actually cares about the girls he sleeps with" tom thought out loud.

liam's face curled into a disgusted expression.

"makes no fucking sense. staged girlfriend? what happens when I break up with her? wont I just go back to the same thing as before? get yer fucking head together, lad" liam scoffed.

"liam yer not gettin' it. we're tryna steer you away from that" noel spinned in his office chair.

"no, i'm gettin it. I just can't believe you're being serious. its ridiculous is what it is." liam shook his head, not letting up.

"liam. it would distract the press. its perfect timing. once your second album releases, nobody will care about your love life. if you break up with her, no one will care considering there's new music out." tom explained.

liam sighed.

"he's considering itttt" noel smiled at tom.

"i told you to shut up" liam shot back.

noel put his hands up in defense, his face curling into a glare.

"fine." liam sighed.

"you know any birds liam?" tom asked.

liam squinted. then, he chuckled. "one. but not 'er, shes fucking whipped. difficult, with an attitude." he shook his head.

"that's perfect." tom smiled.

"no. please. she's crazy." liam begged.

"where the fuck did u find her, then?" noel lifted a brow.

"the pub. she works there."

noel let out a low whistle.

౨ৎ

you were working your shift again, cooped up behind the counter and serving drinks to already drunk bums.

"right there." liam pointed at you.

"cmon, i don't wanna date 'er. there's like a billion girls" liam whined.

"shut up liam" tom shook his head, walking towards the counter.

"two guinness, please ma'am." tom asked kindly.

you squinted. "who are you then?" you asked, nodding at tom.

"im his manager." tom responded civil.

you chuckled. "why'r you at the pub with your manager?" you asked liam with a lazy grin.

liam looked at tom with heavy eyes. "go on. tell 'er."

you squinted.

tom took a deep breath. "listen, i want you to date liam."

you froze. after a few seconds of looking between liam and tom for help, you burst into laughter.

"what the fuck?" you said through laughs.

liam looked down at the counter, and tom just watched you laugh with a straight face.

"you're not serious. right?" you wiped at your eyes which now had tears forming at the edges. you laughed way too hard. how could he say it so easily?

none of them responded. then, your expression dropped. this was serious.

"no. absolutely not." you said immediately.

you grabbed their guinness and placed it down on the counter, liam almost downing the whole thing.

"liam, help me out here" you scoffed.

"it wasn't my idea" he shrugged.

tom furrowed his brows. "actually it was."

"i was joking!" liam snapped.

"can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" you crossed your arms over your chest.

"can you get off work right now?" liam asked.

you sighed. "i can try."

you told liv to cover for you while you had a talk with liam. she responded with,

"he's a cute lad" and smacked your shoulder.

you just smiled and nodded, knowing to you that was not true.

liam and tom were sat at a small wooden table, waiting for you to join them. you sat down at the table, sinking into a small wooden chair.

"ive got ten minutes. be quick." you rubbed your tired eyes.

"so, liam. he's wild." tom started.

liam made a disgusted face at his choice of words. your eyes widened, playfully looking at liam. he buried his face in his hands.

"he can't have flings forever. the press paints him as a dirty player." tom started.

"i wonder why that is" you mumbled, picking at one of your cuticles.

"oh my Goddd" liam groaned in embarrassment at your words.

"we want to distract the press with a fake girlfriend. just until the new album comes out, and you guys can break up. it'd be like nothing- no one would care about his relationship when oasis drops a new album."

you couldn't believe it. you stared blankly at them.

"surely you are aware that women aren't toys?" you asked with a furrow of your brows.

"here we go" liam rolled his eyes.

"what, liam? you got something to say?" you raised your voice.

he didn't say anything, just shot you a glare.

"i dont want to be used as some toy. what am I even getting out of this? im just helping you out of the kindness of my heart?" you scoffed.

"well, kinda, yeah-" liam started before tom interrupted him.

"we could pay you." tom blurted.

liam and you widened your eyes. "what?" you both said at the same time.

tom gulped. "we could pay you to date him."

you paused, considering it.

"how much?"

"two thousand" tom offered.

what. the. fuck. that was enough to help you pay the bills for your flat. to actually get a decent amount of groceries. the new record you wanted.

"two thousand pounds to date him?" you pointed at liam.

liam scoffed. "what, s'not enough for ya, princess?"

you were about to choke him across the table with all the stupid pet names he used for you.

"its enough. its...alot." you breathed shakily.

"c'mon, help me out? to shut him up?" liam smiled.

"fine. but stop smiling its creeping me out." you waved your finger in his face.

he frowned.

"what do I gotta do? hold his hand like we're in fourth grade?" you sighed.

"jus' kiss all over my pretty face and come to my gigs." liam grinned, puckering his lips playfully.

"oh lord." you mumbled.

"exactly. we'll arrange for you two to go out, attract paparazzi, that stuff" tom said.

"i can't believe im actually doing this." you confessed with a long sigh.

"don't worry, princess. ill treat you good." liam grinned.

"i have to get back to work." you said abruptly, ignoring liam's words.

౨ৎ

you stood outside liam's flat on saturday, a cig between your fingers. you blew out the cigarette smoke, getting a good look at his building.

a chilly breeze blew past you, blowing your hair in your face. you were wearing a long fur coat, one of your only valuable investments when you got your first big paychecks. you wore a fitted white button up, one that was yours and saved on the side for occasions, not for work at the pub.

your black bra was a bit visible through the shirt but you didn't care considering it was expensive. a black mini skirt and sheer tights covered you from your hips to your toes, and a pair of shiny black loafers were added to top it off.

liam called you earlier that week and asked you to "wear something attractive" you scoffed and told him to go to hell.

but here you were, wearing a dangerously adorable outfit.

you walked towards the door, pulling it open and walking up to the lift. the lift's doors opened, and you looked down at your hand, black ink with his address and floor on it.

fifth floor, you read in your head.

of that call with liam, it was full of bickering and arguments, but you two also had a laugh at some moments. you totally grilled him when he asked you to "wear something attractive," though.

you were attractive which pissed you off. I have nice hips, you thought. you wore this skirt mainly to show them off.

the bell dinged, and the doors opened. you walked down the hallway, your loafers clacking on the white marble floors. you knocked on the door to his room, and leaned on the wall beside the door. you tapped your foot. what was takin' him so long?

the door flew open to a sweaty liam with a scared expression.

"y/n? what're you doin' here?" he asked, his breath ragged.

you stuttered as he adjusted the buttons on his shirt. then you heard a voice.

"who's there?" a female voice called from inside.

realization sparked in your mind. he had someone over. a woman over.

"im interrupting something." you clucked your tongue, moving down the hall already.

"no, wait-" liam called to you, but you were already rushing away from him.

fucking dirty motherfu-

you couldn't even finish your thought.

he grabbed your wrist forcefully, turning you around. "wait." he panted out of breath.

you couldn't tell if it was from running after you or from his prior activities.

"what, liam?" you sighed.

"why are you here?" he asked.

you glared at him. "we planned something today. don't you remember?" you crossed your arms over your chest.

"that was today?" he ran a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"yes. oh my God, liam. you know what? I'm out. I cant do this shit with you. I'm sorry." you shook your head, turning away from him.

"no! you cant" he grabbed your wrist.

"let go!" you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

he dragged you by your wrist and pressed you up against the nearest wall.

"i said let go, liam" you gritted through your teeth.

"no." he shot back.

you fucking hated him.

"why do you want me to be your fake girlfriend when you have yet another girl in your bedroom?" you asked.

"it was just a one night thing, the press won't know-"

"fucking hell, liam!" you pushed him forcefully, sending him backwards.

"you just don't get it, do you?" you shook your head.

"women. aren't. toys. for. pleasure." you spelled it out slowly.

"I know."

"so why are you using me? and her? are you even in this deal?"

he didn't respond.

"you want to keep ruining your life? go ahead. I'm out."

"y/n, please." he called to you as you ran down the hall.

you shook your head.

"please." he asked calmly.

that's what stopped you. he didn't follow you, just asked.

you turned your head around to look at him, alone and wanting a second chance right there in the hallway.

"listen, lets go out for a drink, okay? talk at the pub or summat"

you came closer to him with an exhausted sigh. "you have a woman in your bed."

"oh. yeah. I do." he noticed.

you chuckled. "you are so insane and so unfair-"

"you can stop there" he smiled.

"I fucking hate you." you shook your head with a laugh.

"ah, I know. you only say it one hundred times every time I call ya"

౨ৎ

"how'd you get rid of her?" you asked, placing your bottle of beer up to your lips.

"told her i had to go to my mam's." he chuckled.

you shook your head in disbelief.

you and liam were walking along the river near the small dog park and the great seafood restaurant around the corner. you could smell buttery shrimp from down the street.

he wanted to stay at the pub, but you told him you were cooped up there almost all the time and wanted to get out. he offered a walk along the river. the paparazzi's favorite spot to take photos in london.

you spotted one man with a black hat on and black sunglasses, trying to stay as secretive as possible. he snapped one photo with his small camera the second you averted your eyes, pretending not to see him.

"you always get followed like this?" you asked.

he took a big gulp of his beer. "what'd ya mean?"

"there's a photographer." you said quietly.

"where?" he squinted his eyes, looking around.

"no! don't look, dickhead." you shook your head, pulling the sleeve of his jacket.

"sorry" he took another sip from his bottle.

"I mean, i've gotten used to it" he answered your previous question.

"that's kinda sad. no offense." you tilted your head.

"I guess" liam shrugged.

liam looked to a bench nearby, finally spotting the photographer. he snapped one more shot. liam furrowed his brow. "see him now" he told you.

"yeah? ignore him" you said.

"how? he's takin' photos of me." liam huffed a laugh.

"jus' focus on me." you offered.

this was the nicest its been with him. you and liam don't have a jolly time together. he's usually a dick. but right now, he wasn't. he was just a man. one you understood.

liam kept darting his head out to find the paparazzi, and you tried to ignore it. when he did it more than twice, you had to say something.

"don't look at him, liam." you said softly.

"kay." he mumbled, placing his beer up to his lips.

"so...he's takin' photos." liam said, his tone suspicious.

your brow perked up. "yeah...so?"

"so like..." he widened his eyes like it was obvious. then you realized.

an evil grin spread across your lips. "you want me to hold yer hand, liam?"

"nah, nah. not if you don't want to" he shook his head.

"okay. then i wont" you took a sip of beer.

you saw his facial expression shift uncomfortably out of the corner of your eye. you smiled dangerously.

"but yer like supposed to be my girlfriend, so..."

you sighed, reaching your hand out to hold his hand.

his cheeks went pink, feeling your cold hands in his.

"Jesus" he muttered.

you furrowed your brows.

"yer really cold." he said. "I have a pair of gloves in my pocket. you want?"

your expression softened. wait- was liam acting like he cared? of course he was- the cameras were out.

"you don't have to overdo it. i think that lad is gone" you smirked.

"i'm not doin it for him. you just feel really cold." he said.

you locked eyes with him, suddenly something different about him.

he pulled out the gloves from his pocket, with a small, "here."

he grabbed the beer from your hand and placed it on the railing seperating the boardwalk from the river, and held your cold hands. he slid on the soft gloves, immediately giving warmth to your hands. your cheeks were pink, and you muttered a tiny, "thank you."

"you can use my scarf if you need it too" he said softly, reaching for your fuzzy hands to hold them.

he passed you your beer again, and you sipped carefully as your nose went cold.

౨ৎ

the next day, you woke up the piercing sound of the telephone. it was all the way in the kitchen. you were in your soft bed.

"ughhhhh" you groaned, rubbing your eyes as you trudged over to the telephone.

"hello?" you asked with a loud yawn.

"did you see the fucking paper?" liam asked.

you squinted. "liam? that you?"

"yup. look at the paper. or the news. we're everywhere."

you yawned again, opening your door to see if the morning paper was dropped off. of course, 'the sun' posted it on the front page.

a picture of liam sliding the gloves over your fingers. the way you looked at him, so in love. you were a good actress. it scared you.

you chuckled. "cover photo, huh?" you asked, placing the telephone between the crook of your neck as you fixed your hands on the newspaper in front of you.

"yepppp. you got the paper?" he asked.

"mhm."

"in yer hands? are you lyin'?" he asked hesitantly.

you rolled your eyes. "yes liam, it's in my hand" you confirmed.

"go to the second page." liam told you over the phone.

you flipped the page, squinting down at the small print.

"read it for me. i cant see yet" you said through a yawn.

"oasis frontman sparks a new romance with mystery girl" liam read.

"y'know, pretty, it's a lot about you. people wanna know who this mystery girl is" liam paused reading.

"hmm. they'll find out sooner or later" you shrugged.

"I'll ask tom to schedule sumthin' else for us?" he asked.

"sure." you said while rubbing your eyes.