Crossed Wires - Campbell Bain - Ch. 7
Pairing: Radio Host!Campbell Bain/Popstar!femReader
Summary: Campbell and Y/N reach a truce.
Genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, modern au, reader insert, forced proximity, misunderstandings, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 9,179
Warnings: Swearing, Mental Illness, Alcohol Consumption
Chapter 7: For The Record
Beginning | Previous | Next (TBD)
PopCrave: Fans speculate that Campbell Bain might be involved in F/N L/Nâs rumored comeback album. Amateur sleuths have begun scouring through his recent broadcast for clues about the upcoming project.
Posted: 3 hours ago
Campbell's foot tapped anxiously as he fidgeted with the glass of whisky in his hand. The liquid swirled around in the glass like the contents of his stomach. Y/N lifted the glass to her lips and suppressed a grimace at the taste. Silence stretched out between them for miles.
Campbell had called a ceasefire after their âlittleâ spat but the urge to lash out crawled beneath his skin like a colony of ants. All desperate to reach the surface. Tempting him to take the pain and urgency he felt and level the earth out in front of him. It mixed with the guilt in his gut about coping with alcohol. He could see Eddieâs disapproving face, now three years sober, in his mind. He wasnât proud of it.
âIâm sorry.â Y/N broke the silence hesitantly. She paused, as one might while traversing a minefield. When no explosion occurred, she pushed forward. âI shouldnât have brought it up like that, I wasnât thinking.â A genuine apology. Twice now. Odd.
Campbell swallowed the urge to tell her to take her apology and shove it. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she meant well. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice to maintain the tentative peace they had created. She began playing with the rings on her fingers, fidgeting with them nervously.
Desperate for an outlet, Campbell plucked one of the rings from the table carefully, her eyes watching him intently as he began to twirl it between his fingers. The sensation of the movement was soothing, there was no denying that.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Y/Nâs mouth. Without a word, she handed him another ring, giving them each two. Campbell nodded appreciatively, happy to have a distraction from the thoughts threatening to drag him down to the depths.
His mind went relatively blank as he focused on the small objects in his hands. Without thinking he slipped a ring onto his finger; it slid over his middle knuckle easily. Campbell attempted to pull it off, only to discover it was firmly stuck on his hand. His eyes widened as he frantically attempted to yank the ring from his middle finger. Y/N looked up at his wild movements curiously.
âStupid bloody thing wonât fucking come offâ Campbell was now hopping around the kitchen as if that was going to help the situation. Y/N couldnât help but giggle at his ridiculous motions. He stopped his hopping and shot her a glare. âYae think this is funny, yae witch?â Though it was hard to look intimidating while trying to pull a much too small ring off his fingers.
âA little bit yeah.â Y/N mused, grateful for a break in the tension. âHere, stop that, just stand still.â She stood up and walked across the room to him, holding out a hand. âLet me help you.â Campbell eyed her with suspicion. But she waited patiently till he willingly placed his hand in hers.
Campbell reluctantly gave her his hand, ignoring the fluttery new feelings that joined the complicated mix of emotions he was trying and failing to manage. Y/N attempted to twist the ring off as gently as possible, but it wouldnât budge. She frowned as Campbell whined about his finger.
âCampbell,â Y/N gripped his hand a little tighter as she spoke gently, in the same tone the dentist uses when they say something was only going to pinch. Which is almost always a lie.
âYeah?â Campbell asked softly. She looked up at him, still holding his now slightly red hand.
His eyes got caught in hers and for a moment he forgot where he was. Forgot about the ring, forgot about the fight, forgot about who they were.
âIâve got some bad newsâ A sly smile slid into place. Campbell could barely hear a word she said as his mind went wandering off without him. Lost in a little bubble of a universe that only consisted of the two of them. âWeâre gonna have to cut your finger off.â Y/N deadpanned. And the bubble popped.
âHa. Ha. Very funny.â Campbell frowned but didnât pull his hand back. It sat undisturbed and unacknowledged in her grasp.
âDo you have any lotion? Iâll have the ring off in a secondâ Campbellâs frown deepened as she dropped his hand in search of something to get the damn ring off. Y/N went wandering off in a direction she assumed led to the bathroom.
âOi, where are yae going? Have yae no sense of boundaries?â Campbell called after her. Yet, he did nothing to stop her. Y/N scampered back happily with an old bottle of lotion. It was lavender-scented, likely another Christmas gift from Rosalie. One of those box sets that came with a matching antibacterial hand soap. In a minute they managed to wrench the ring from Campbellâs finger.
The anger over their argument that was pounding against his head had mostly subsided now. Maybe, he was ready to talk about it. Silence hung between them once more as they both mulled over what to say next.
âI really want to apologi-â âMaybe I was a bit hars-â They both spoke at once, before pausing and laughing awkwardly.
âIt wasnât really my pla-â âHow long were you in-â They interrupted each other once more.
âYou go first.â Y/N smiled nervously, failing to hide the guilty look in her eyes.
âWhy donât we sit on the couch.â Campbell offered.
âGood idea.â They sat as far apart from each other as they possibly could on the old thrifted love seat Campbell had forced Eddie to help him drag up the stairs when he first moved here. He had more than enough money to buy a better one. But Campbell had a hard time letting go of things.
Campbell took a sip of his drink, readying himself to traverse the dangerous territory laid out in front of him. Y/N sat next to him as stiff as a board, looking as uncomfortable as he felt. He opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to find the right words to say.
âHow long did they keep you?â Campbell asked suddenly, deciding it was better to bite the bullet and face the consequences later. That philosophy had served him decently well so far.
âPardon?â Y/N asked, pulling herself out of her spiral of thought.
âHow long were you in the hospital for?â Campbell asked, staring at a stain on the carpet that was either spaghetti sauce or blood from one of his several failed handstand attempts.
Y/N sucked in a breath. Seeking to steel her nerves, she attempted to down the entire glass of whisky in one go. Only to gag and come up sputtering.
âOh, good god, they make it look so much easier in movies.â Y/N lamented, desperate to get the taste of liquor out of her mouth. âThat is truly disgusting.â
Campbell couldnât help but laugh at her plight but sprung up to find a remedy anyway. He snatched the now half-empty bag of marshmallows from the table and tossed it to her without a warning. The bag smacked her upside the head before falling into her lap, a few marshmallows scattering onto the floor. Y/N glared at him as menacingly as she could. But the crooked smile that threatened to take over betrayed the manufactured malice in her eyes.
âYou have terrible aim,â Y/N said, shoving an unholy number of marshmallows in her mouth.
âHow do yae know what I was aiming for?â Campbell replied cheekily. He launched himself over the back of the couch and landed gracelessly next to her. The springs on the groaned in protest as Y/N shrieked in surprise. She glared at him again, cheeks puffed out angrily.
âI have to say, itâs rather hard to look intimidating with yer cheeks stuffed with marshmallows, but yae are pulling it off beautifully.â Campbell teased as he popped a few in his mouth. Y/N stuck her tongue out as far as she could without spewing half-chewed marshmallows everywhere.
â2 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days.â Y/N said after a few moments of them munching on mallows in a neutral silence.
âWhat?â Campbell asked.
âThatâs how long I was hospitalized for.â She laid out the information between them like a peace offering. An attempt to make the gap in knowledge between them slightly more equal. But even in this small show of bravery, she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
âAh,â He replied. That was a good long while. She didnât look any more comfortable than she had been when she first walked in the door. âHow about this, for every question I ask yae, yae get to ask me one.â He offered his own little peace offering. âIâm pretty much an open book, ask me anything yae like.â
Y/N fiddled with her fingers for a moment, considering his proposition. Before sticking out her hand to Campbell for him to shake.
âYou have a deal.â She said, with an unnecessarily serious look on her face. Campbell shook her hand roughly.
âDo yer worst.â He said with an impish smile. Her eyebrows pinched together as she thought over her question. Best to start simple.
âWhy did you move away from Glasgow?â
âAye, thatâs an easy one, yer not even trying! Why no ask about my dark and tortured past, oh wait.â Campbell couldnât stop himself from taking a small jab at her.
Y/N rolled her eyes. âJust answer the question, Campbell.â
âFine,â Campbell whined, drawing out the syllables. Of all the fears he had while proposing this game, it being boring was not one of them. âI came to the States to be a DJ. To get a job at a station that reached a lot further than the ones in Glasgow. Just moving on up in my career really.â
âDonât you ever miss your fam-?â Y/N attempted to follow up before Campbell interjected.
âAh ah ah, itâs my turn now. Thems the rules we agreed on. Shook on it and everythingâ Campbell quickly steered away from the topic of his family. He wiggled his fingers to emphasize the significance of their handshake and hoped Y/N couldnât see how close she had stepped to a land mine.
âFine, fine, continue the interroga- I mean interview.â Y/N lifted up her hands in mock surrender. Campbell tapped a finger on his chin, pretending to think about what he next question would be. But he already knew. It had been nagging him for almost a year now.
âWhy did you and Roger break up?â Campbell asked the question, picking at some marshmallow stuck beneath his nails with feigned disinterest. As though there was no personal stake in it. Which there wasnât. Obviously.
Y/N let out a humorless laugh. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, refilling her glass with a scrunch of her nose.
âDo you want the long answer or the short one?â She said, sipping from her glass.
âWeâve got the time, havenât we?â He said, insatiably curious. His mind swirled with every possibility. But the piece that nagged him, pulling at his pant leg like a small child with a burning question. Why did seeing Campbell and Y/N together make Rodger so mad?
âI suppose we do.â Y/N drawled out, stretching her arms above her head with a groan. A clear attempt to stall but Campbell didnât mind. He liked the view from the couch. The hem of her wool sweater rose up ever so slightly.
It was a dangerous game he was playing, letting his mind wander. But he never did have the common sense to maintain a healthy amount of fear.
âAlright then, youâll get both.â Y/N perched on top of the kitchen table, crossing one leg over the other. âShort answer: heâs a scumbag.â As Y/N hissed out the words she enunciated her point with a wave of her glass, raising it in the air as a mock toast to his douchebaggery.
âWell, I coulda told yae that ages ago.â Campbell said, hanging over the back of the couch, watching her movements with a level of interest he would never admit out loud.
âDid I ask for your opinion, Bain?â Y/N drew out his last name slowly and deliberately like she was sharpening a knife. Her tone was low and serious, but the twinkle in her eyes and the playful smirk on her face betrayed her. It was all a game.
Campbell hopped over the back of the couch and strode over to her. His heart sped up with each step he took. Just a step too close for comfort, he stopped.
âNae, but yer in my house, drinking my whiskey so yer going to hear it anyway.â He ducked his head down and spoke close to her ear, voice as low and even as he could manage. If she wanted to play games, that was just fine. Campbell was quite good at playing pretend. Y/N could try to get under his skin all she wanted, but he wasnât going down without a fight. He heard her breath hitch in her throat, but she said nothing. Good, heâd won this round.
He dropped the serious demeanor and bounced out of her space as quickly as heâd entered it. The old linoleum floor of his kitchen creaked with each step. A shit-eating grin took over most of his face. Y/N's shock at his actions faded, morphing into a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes.
âWhat?â he asked innocently as she studied him. It was a dangerous game they were playing, dancing around the tension between them like a bonfire. The nature of which, neither of them fully understood. Her eyes darted to the anxious tapping of Campbellâs foot. She grinned like the Cheshire cat.
âNothing, Campbell, nothing at all.â She said taking a long sip from her glass, hiding her disgust better than she was hiding the flush of her cheeks. âSo! Rodger the douche.â Y/N pivoted the conversation quickly. Right. Him.
âAye, quite possibly the only person in this world I like less than you.â Campbell drawled out. Y/N frowned.
âReally? Iâve been trying so hard too.â She pouted slightly.
âWhat cannae say? Yer just not on his level of cartoonish evil. Keep trying though Iâm sure youâll get it.â Campbell teased. It felt nice, falling back into their comfortable routine of teasing and goading each other on. The tone was different this time. There was no longer this underlying intention of causing harm, that unhealthy need to win. It was softer, more reverent. Â
Y/N worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The bitter taste of shame rising up in her throat. âI really am sorry⌠for digging into your life like that. I had no business.â
âEh, it is what is I guess. Did you handle that with all the grace of an orange cat in an art studio? Absolutely! Itâs just⌠hard to talk about I guess.â Campbell dismissed the apology with an unconvincing wave of his hand.
âI get that. Still, thanks for not kicking me out for being an inconsiderate idiot.â Y/N attempted Campbell smile by insulting herself, a formerly favorite pastime of his, but he stayed down. Heâd been like this the last few years. Even if she hated him, she could sense the change. Gone was the happy-go-lucky ball of energy. In its place was a melancholy shell of a man, just going through the motions.
âAye, well, thereâs still time. Now answer the question!â Campbell didnât like the way she looked at him. It was like he was a bug under a microscope. If Y/N registered his deflection, she didnât let on.
âRight, the long answer. He wasnât always so-â
âEvil?â Campbell interrupted
âNo-â
âSelf-centered? Entitled? Narcissist? This a great game, I could do this all day.â
âI was just going to say mean, but I suppose that works too.â Y/N laughed despite herself. âHe used to be nice to me you know? Always telling me how talented I was. Just showering me endlessly with gifts.â Her eyes stared off behind him as if the scene was playing out in real time. She gave a small watery smile. âBut he would get so jealous. Insanely so. At first, I thought it was cute, how much he cared about me. But it wasnât caring, not really. It was about control.â
Campbell didnât say a word.
âI donât think never expected me to be so successful. He always said it, but he never meant it. Putting me on the radio, booking that interview with youâ Y/N looked at Campbell as she spoke. âIt was just another one of his elaborate gifts.â A self-satisfied smirk wormed it way onto her face. âIf Rodger had it his way, I wouldâve been a one-hit wonder spending the rest of my life cleaning up after him and his brood.â
Campbell snorted into his drink upon hearing her say the word brood, whiskey burned the inside of his nostrils. Y/N laughed. He simply held up his middle finger as he hacked up a lung.
Finally gaining his composure, after what felt like minutes of coughing. âSo, he wanted you to be a housewife, thatâs why you left?â
âHey, itâs not your turn to ask a question.â Y/N scolded, clearly sick of discussing her ex-fiancĂŠ. Campbell held his hands up in mock surrender. âDo you mind turning on some music? I can hear myself think and I donât like it.â Campbell barked a laugh and nodded.
âHell yeah, I can play some music, itâs literally all I do all day.â Campbell bounded excitedly, beckoning her to follow him over to his record collection. Two floor-to-ceiling shelves stuffed to the brim with vinyl records from various decades stood on either side of a large state-of-the-art record player with built-in speakers. It was by far the most expensive thing in Campbellâs apartment. Most of his money went to upgrading his sound system and hunting down old records. Not much had changed since he was 19.
Campbell gestured grandly to his prized collection. âPick anything you like!â He urged gleefully as he launched into a long-winded explanation of his overly complicated filing system, first by color, then by year, and finally by the first letter of the band name. The system created a beautiful rainbow gradient cascading down his shelves. Somehow, he was the only one who could find anything- which he could not for the life of him understand.
If Campbell had taken a moment to breathe between monologues about the development of sound systems over the years, he would have seen Y/N's eyes following him with great interest. Eyes sparkling with thinly veiled adoration. He had such passion. So much love for the subject that it nearly knocked her off her feet. She had never seen him so⌠happy. Her heart broke. Just a little.
For just a moment, she could see it. See Him. The bright-eyed kid from the photograph. The one sheâd caught glimpses of in the early days of their interviews. But those moments grew fewer and farther between. Each year she watched a little more fade away. She couldnât quite explain how angry it made her. To watch him slip away like that. Like witnessing a supernova slowly die. Even if he was the bane of her existence, he was a worthy foe.
Y/N felt a stab of guilt. It coiled around like a snake and sat like lead in her guts. She had noticed slowly over time, him falling into an intolerably mundane sort of predictability. Just going through the motions. She wanted fire. She wanted him to put up a good fight. So, in that fourth interview⌠she went too far.
âIâm⌠sorry⌠for what I said.â Y/N interrupted Campbellâs rant about modern music productions' inferiority. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. Eyes glued to the floor with guilt. He cocked his head to the side and frowned, looking much like a confused puppy.
âWhaddya mean? I already said yae were fine, yae didnât think it through and I overreacted. Weâre even now, dinnae worry about it.â Campbell's voice soothed as his brows furrowed together. He crouched down, attempting to catch her eye.
âNo, not that.â Y/Nâs voice trailed off. âIt was a while ago.â This shyness wasnât like her. Campbell shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He preferred it when they spent every second together like two feral cats in an alley. All claws and puffed-up tails. This was⌠far too intimate.
She sighed and gathered her courage, bolstered by the two glasses of whiskey. Dear lord, this whole apologizing business was much harder than it looked. And Y/N sure wasnât making it look easy.
âUgh, turn around,â Y/N demanded, voice laced with irritation. Campbell blanched.
âOi, why do I have to turn around, what did I do,â Campbell whined indignantly. Was it rather childish? Yes. But when did he ever have the time to care about something as ridiculous as that?
âCanât you just do what youâre told? This is hard enough for me to admit as it is.â Y/N rolled her eyes. Stomping a foot in an equally childish manner.
âNever.â Campbell narrowed his eyes at her. He absolutely detested being told what to do, but he did it anyway.
âThank you.â Y/N ground out. She took a deep breath and just let whatever was on her mind spill out onto the carpet in a garbled mess of word salad. âIâm sorry for what I said that interview three years ago. When you werenât fighting back like you usually did. And it made me so mad. Like I wasnât even worth insulting properly. You were just phoning in your insults, saying the same tired old thing that every other half-brain critic was saying. I mean come on my lyrics are predictable? You said the same exact thing when you met me!â At this point, Y/N began to flail her arms emphatically. Campbellâs shoulders shook with laughter. She really cared about this, huh?
âHey! Stop laughing Iâm trying to apologize here!â That just made him laugh harder, nearly doubled over.
âFine, fineâ Campbellâs mirthful voice was broken up by laughter. âItâs just, yer so seriousâ He glanced over his shoulder at her. âYae mean ta tell me this entire time weâve been tearing each others throats out, yaeâve been enjoying it?â What Campbell wouldnât admit, is that he enjoyed it too, immensely. âNever woulda taken yae for a masochist. But hey, different strokes and all of that.â Campbell muttered under his breath. With a barely concealed smirk he waited for the remark to get under her skin.
âWouldnât it be Sado-masochist if Iâm also just as mean to you?â Y/N wondered aloud. âAnyway, thatâs not the point. Just shut up and let me apologize to you!â She groaned.
âYaeâre so good at apologizing, not mean or forceful at all.â Sarcasm dripped from Campbellâs voice like sticky sweet honey. He couldnât see her face, but he could see the image of her eyes rolling as clear as day.
âOur banter just wasnât flowing like it usually did. You werenât⌠you werenât being you. At least not the you Iâd come to know. And even depend on a little bit.â The last bit came out rushed and quiet, swept away by the words that came after it so quickly Campbell could barely comprehend them, much less respond. âYou just looked so dead-eyed. Itâs like you didnât even care to be there. That spark, the one that knocked me on my ass just a couple of years before was gone. It just made me angry. So, I pushed. I went too far. Knowing what I know now, I see I went even further over the line than I thoughtâŚâ He didnât need her to say anything more to understand what she meant.
âI believe yer words were âtalentless friendless hackâ if I remember correctlyâ Campbell repeated her words back to her with only a small amount of bitterness. Y/N grimaced like she had just watched a toddler face plant on concrete.
âOkay so maybe I went overboard. I know youâre not actually a talentless friendless hack.â
âAye, I wouldnât be so sure about that. Though I have to say friendless was a little harsh.â
âYeah probably, but hey! To be fair, you gave as much as you got. I definitely got more than I bargained for- Hold on a minuteâ Y/N interrupted herself and walked over to study one of the vinyls tucked away amongst Campbell's extensive collection. He watched her movement with a raised eyebrow, confused as his eyes trailed down her arm to the album, she was moments away from pulling off the shelf. Oh crap.
âHa!â Y/N exclaimed with humor and a load of arrogance. Campbell could barely stand to look at her shit-eating grin as she held up the album like a trophy. A copy of her third album. âYou are such a liar Campbell Bain.â She teased as she flipped open the album. Â The old promo pictures stared back at her like a haunting caricature of what used to be. Those feelings could wait. This was a golden opportunity she just couldnât waste.
âI am not!â Campbell attempted to defend himself. Jaw dropped in indignant disbelief.
âYouuu,â Y/n pointed an accusatory finger in his face. Campbell went a bit cross-eyed attempting to look at the digit that sat mere centimeters away from his nose. âlike my music. Admit it.â She gloated, unable to contain the massive smile on her face.
âIt was purely for research, donât flatter yerself.â Campbell tried to remain calm. This was not good. His cheeks slowly started to heat up. Y/N cocked her head to the side. She had that look in her eye. The dangerous one. The one that usually ended up with Campbell screaming into his pillow and winning arguments in the shower three days later.
âOh really? Just research?â She stressed the word as she leaned in a fraction of an inch closer. Campbell swallowed loudly. âThen tell me why, you have a special edition, hm?â He had no answer. âNot only that, but a LIMITED RELEASE special edition.â
âIs it really?â Campbell tried to sound surprised but the pitch of his voice being an octave higher than normal mightâve given it away.
âCampbell these sold out in less than two hours.â Y/N bit down on her bottom lip to keep her smirk from morphing into a cheesy smile. Campbell shrugged and made an unconvincing noise. Something between a mumble and a high-pitched whine.
âSee, even if I did believe you,â Y/N spoke slowly and intentionally as she pulled the vinyl out of its slip. She placed it gently on the record player, side A up. And let it play. âYouâre forgetting the fact that you,â she ennunciated her point by poking a finger into Campbellâs chest. âPlayed my song on the radio today.â Y/N eyes sparkled with mischief. âFrom this album.â Her smile grew wider. His heart beat faster. He swore he could feel the blood moving in his veins. âOf your own free will?â
Her last statement sounded like more of a question. Like maybe perhaps some masked gunman had forced his hand. That was a far more likely scenario. Easier to believe than Campbell well and truly enjoying even a small piece of her work.
âI donât think Iâll ever understand you, Campbell.â She meant it to sound light-hearted. She really did. But it came out in the same way one might wonder about the light of the stars reaching the earth. Meanwhile, Campbell was half-wondering if the stars had fallen out of the sky right into her eyes.
The light plucky piano melody of the opening track floated through the air. A sweet melancholic ballad that contains more chords than words. A simple lullaby. An insanely bold choice for an album opener. Frankly, the organization of the tracklist was a complete mess. As though someone had dropped each of the songs into a hat and plucked them out at random. And thatâs exactly what Campbell loved about it. It was unpredictable and messy. It had soaring highs and crushing lows. A disastrously beautiful kaleidoscope of emotions that he couldnât help but feel a kinship with.
Neither of them were sure how long they stood there. In silence. Trying in vain to find the depth of the otherâs soul through the black hole of their eyes. One could logically argue, less than the length of a traditional pop song. But trapped there, in their own little universe. It felt like hours.
Cymbals crashed through the delicate moment like a runaway train. Ah yes, track two, the percussion-heavy vengeful follow-up to a sleepy little lullaby. The pair quickly stepped apart, suddenly aware of how close theyâd gotten. Y/N turned away and pretended to study the vinyl lined up on the shelf.
âOkay, fine.â Campbell conceded, the jig was up. âMaybe, this album isnât the worstâŚâ He attempted to downplay his fondness.
âNot the worst? Glowing praise coming from you.â She smiled knowingly as she ran her fingers along the tattered edges of the album, well-worn from use.
Y/N pulled the lyric book out and began flipping through the pages. âYou know, a lot of magazines said this was the worst album Iâve ever released.â The casual air she attempted to bring to her words fell flat. Pretend as she might, to be this impenetrable fortress of unshakable pride, their words got to her. A tinge of guilt twisted in Campbellâs stomach.
He swallowed thickly. âI think itâs a great album.â Campbell heard the words leave his mouth but didnât remember saying them. Y/N eyes widened in shock, taken aback at the sudden praise. Her expression fell as she started to recede into her mind.
âThis album sold fewer copies than any other album of mine.â Y/N leveled, as if trying to convince him to revoke his endorsement. That wasnât going to happen. In for a penny, in for a pound as they say.
âSome people wouldnât know good music if it slapped them across the face.â Campbell shrugged; well aware he was currently contradicting years of stubborn insistence she was bad at what she does. A confused smile tugged at Y/N's mouth.
âThe order of the track list is a mess.â She continued to insult her work, not sure why. Simply parroting the same old criticisms sheâd been playing over in her mind for years.
âBut thatâs the best part!â Campbell enthused, beginning to pace the floor as he raved about the organized chaos of the album and how it emphasizes the complicated and conflicting emotions shown throughout the narrative of the album. He went on and on as Y/N watched him with a rather lovesick expression.
âItâs the chaos of the universe trapped inside a bottle!â Campbell explained, finally turning back to face Y/N. Just in time to watch her face morph from unexpected adoration to pure delight. She gasped and sprinted across the room without a warning. He spun around like a top attempt to follow her movement.
âWhat are yae-?â He wondered aloud as she dug through her unreasonably large tote bag. Y/N pulled out her prize with a small noise of victory. A small notebook and a mechanical pencil. A song journal.
âThatâs brilliant, absolutely brilliantâ She muttered to herself as she scribbled away in her little notebook. Campbell smiled to himself as he moved closer, attempting to read the writing over her shoulder. But she was far too quick for him. Snatching the notebook to her chest with a scandalized expression. Campbell pouted.
âHey, why cannae I see it?â He whined.
âBecause!â Y/N explained in an equally mature manner.
âYer a songwriter, sharing yer songs is literally yer job.â
âThese ones are different.â She insisted. âThese ones are just for me.â Campbell longed to read the contents of the notebook. He had half a mind to snatch it from her and lock himself in his bedroom. But apparently all the lectures from Eddie about âBoundaries, Campbell!â had done something.
So, he sat down crisscrossed in front of her. The words of the notebook safely out of his line of sight. Y/N eyed him suspiciously as she slowly pulled the notebook from her chest. Despite his proximity, she slowly started to write again. Her gaze flitted over the top of the pages to make sure Campbell stayed exactly where he was. Eventually, she fell into the flow of songwriting, forgetting about his presence entirely.
Campbell found himself thoroughly entertained simply watching her work. In the back of his mind, he took note of all her little quirks. The way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, her tongue poking out every once and a while. The crinkle that formed just between her furrowed eyebrows. It was different from her angry crinkle. Her nose scrunched up with it as she worked. The writing paused for a moment. She chewed absentmindedly on the end of her pencil as she looked up to the ceiling for inspiration.
When Y/N found no divine intervention splashed across the white ceiling her gaze drifted downward. And landed on Campbell. He perked up as her eyes studied him.
âGive me a word that rhymes with candle.â
âUh⌠sandal?â Campbell panicked, spewing out the first word that popped into his head. Y/N frowned.
âHandle! Handle rhymes with candle!â He exclaimed.
âBetter.â Y/N smiled. Campbell beamed at the praise. She continued to scribble furiously until she was satisfied, shutting the notebook with a sigh. Lost in her own world for a few more moments till she noticed Campbell staring at her expectantly. Y/N blushed and looked away.
âWell?â Campbell asked. He had been more patient in the last ten minutes than he had been for most of his life. He wanted to know what the song was.
âWell, what?â Y/N replied defensively. âIâm still not going to show you the notebook.â He did not like this answer.
âBut yer done now! Why no?!â Campbell practically whined. At this point, the whisky had just started to go his head. He didnât have it in him to be embarrassed about begging.
âThese are the songs that are just for me.â
âWell, technically I helped write it so.â
âOne word is hardly deserving of a writing credit!â
âExcuse you, I helped you come up with first line. I fully expect royalties from yae.â Campbell gave a crooked smile and held out a hand as if she was going to fork over the cash right then and there.
âJokes on you, this will never see the light of day.â
âWhaddya mean!?â Campbell pouted, feeling rather put out that his songwriting career had ended as quickly as it started.
âThis is my personal songbook. These are just for me. To play when Iâm bored or sad.â Y/N explained with a slight redness to her cheeks. âPlus, the studio would never let me record these. They donât fit âmy brandââ She emphasized her brand using quotation marks with her fingers. Y/N rolled her eyes, her lips curling with a slight sneer.
âY/N⌠youâre the label's biggest name by FAR. Iâm sure you could do just about anything you wanted if you threw your weight around a little.â Campbell was confused as to why Y/N was so willing to just roll over and do whatever the label wanted. It was such a stark contrast to everything else heâd come to know about her.
Y/N raised an eyebrow and leveled him a look that plainly said, âI know youâre not that stupidâ. âCampbell, Iâm in my late twenties. Iâve probably got two more albums left in me before they retire me to the elephant graveyard of geriatric pop stars.â He wanted to protest but Campbell knew how this industry worked. If the record company had decided Y/N was past her prime, it was game over. âItâs only a matter of time before they pluck the next pretty young thing out of a thousand girls who are just as worthy and just as hungry.â Her voice had bitter fondness that Campbell could understand. Y/N eyes darkened. âThen they will grind her down, use her up, and throw her out. And the cycle repeats over and over until the fucking sun explodes.â
She tossed her notebook to the side. It smacked against the side of her bag and flopped open. Campbell, in a spectacular show of self-control, fought everything inside of him screaming to look at the words on the page. Y/N held her head in her hands and groaned.
âGod, what am I even doing.â
âYouâre sitting in my living room.â
âI know that wise ass. What am I going to do with my life once this is over?â Her eyes were wide and pleading. The question echoed somewhere deep in his soul.
âIf you could do anything you wanted right now, what would you do?â
âHonestly?â
âHonestly.â
âI want to eat pizza, get shit-faced, and play video games like Iâm back in college.â
âYer wish is my command,â Campbell replied with a cheeky smile. He leapt to his feet and gave a sweeping bow, before running to grab his phone.
âââââââââââââââ
By the time the clock struck midnight the pair of them were locked in an epic grudge match, attempting to determine who was better at Mario Kart. An empty pizza box lay strewn open on the floor, a couple of spare pizza crusts and empty ranch cups discarded within it. The bottle of whisky sat half empty on Campbellâs trash-picked end table next to a 2-liter bottle of Coke that was quickly growing flat.
As they entered the final lap on Rainbow Road, Y/N passed Campbell with a rather unsportsmanlike cheer. He frowned; he wasnât above playing dirty. With a smirk, Campbell hooked his elbow under Y/Nâs and lifted quickly. Her remote went sailing across the room as Campbell crossed the finish line in first place.
He launched himself off the couch with a cheer. A wonderful bout of showmanship culminated in a victory dance that looked a lot like a funky chicken with a wedgie and no sense of rhythm.
âYOU FILTHY CHEATER.â Y/N gasped, turning to confront this slight head-on.
âOi! Allâs fair in love and Mario Kart, darlinâ.â Campbell slurred slightly, feeling quite satisfied with himself.
âIâm not gonna play with you anymore if youâre gonna play like that!â
âAww donât be such a sore loserâ
âAm not!â
âAre too!â
Their standoff lasted just a few seconds. The air held a slight tension before devolving into giggles.
âOne of these days Iâm going to beat you.â
âOne of these days? Already planninâ on seeing me again?â Campbell tried to fight the smile that was quickly taking over his face. Y/Nâs face flushed. She recovered quickly, launching her retort mere moments later. A fraction of a second late. Only someone who knew her well could have noticed the hesitation. And whether he understood it or not, Campbell knew Y/N better than most.
âWell obviously, someone has to take you off your high horse,â she said smugly, lifting her chin in the air.
âMy Mariokart high horse?â
âAnd several other horses, a small stable really. But, yes, thatâs the main one. Your tyranny must end.â Y/N put her hand on her hips. An attempt to look like Superman, staring down her foe. Campbell thought she looked like a dork. A cute dork, but a dork nonetheless.
âI think youâre just a sore loserâ He was aiming for an eye roll, maybe spring for her foot tapping in irritation. He loved to see what new reactions he could pull from her. He tucked each one away gently in the back of his mind to use later. Campbellâs train of thought, which was about as easy to control as a band of wild horses, was focused on one singular mission. Keep her attention on him.
âWhat? Canât think of a better comeback? Câmon, I know youâre smarter than that.â Y/N teased.
âWas that an actual compliment?â
âJust trying to keep you on your toes.â
âCareful there, Y/N, or I might start to suspect that yae might actually like me.â
âSee, I always half-wondered if you were crazy.â Y/N poked a finger into Campbell's chest. She toed the line between them. Testing the boundaries of this new dynamic as it shifted around them. While the rapid changes shouldâve felt chaotic and uncomfortable, instead it simply felt natural. Like the shifting groan of an old house settling. âNow, I know itâs true.â
Campbell barked a laugh. Thrilled to find their old banter flowing again. But the digs felt more affectionate than malicious this time around. âYae might be right, but I prefer the term loony!â He stuck out his tongue as he wiggled his fingers around his head. Y/N chuckled inwardly at his antics. âTo be fair, by yer own admission, yer just as loony as me.â
The jest slipped out. His mouth moved faster than his brain. Just like always. Campbellâs eyes widened. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He was unsure how she would take it. To his delight, she laughed.
âI suppose youâre right about that.â Y/N words were slightly slurred. But that was the only thing that betrayed the alcoholâs effect on her. She swayed back and forth, her eyes half closed, as an easy smile took up residence on her face. It was the most relaxed Campbell had ever seen her. Even in his drunken state. he could see the issue with that.
Y/N flopped back onto the couch with exactly zero coordination. Campbell followed suit. Her hand messily reached for the nearly empty bag of mini marshmallows that sat on the Ikea coffee table in front of them. It wasnât exactly built correctly but it did stand upright. And for that, Campbell was immensely proud.
She shoved a messy handful into her mouth before raising a single mallow. Posed and ready to throw. âCatchâ She attempted to say through a mouthful of marshmallows. What came out was âMmph!â. But Campbell got the gist.
They took turns pelting each other with mini marshmallows till they were surrounded by a disturbing about scattered around them.
âStop moving!â Y/N scolded, lining up her next shot.
âAm not!â Campbell responded. âItâs not my fault yae canât throw for shiteâ
âItâs not my fault you got me drunk!â
âI did no such thing. And I resent the accusation.â
âI resent you.â
âNaeeee, I think yae like me.â
âThey shouldâve never let you out of there.â
Campbell stuck out his tongue but said nothing else. Y/N smiled, basking in the pleasantly warm feeling that lingered in her chest. Probably just whiskey. Her eyelids slowly began to close as she leaned her head back on the couch. Consciousness fading in and out, Y/N absently wondered when the last time she felt this comfortable was. Her muscles loosened along with her tongue.
âYou want to know something kind of sad?â Y/N asked tiredly. Campbell cocked his head to the side, confused.
âSure?â He answered unsure where this was going.
âI think you might be my only friend.â She laughed a little as she said it. As though it was funny and not just heartbreaking. Y/N did this a lot, Campbell had realized.
âWeâre friends?â he asked genuinely. Y/N cracked open an eye to look at him.
âWell, isnât this what friends do?â She answered simply, gesturing lazily between them.
âGet drunk and throw marshmallows at each other?â he asked teasingly, ignoring the peculiar tug he felt in his chest. There were a lot of weird feelings in there recently. Maybe he needed to go see a doctor.
âExactly,â she said sarcastically, feeling too comfortable to bother opening her eyes. âNo, I just mean⌠Itâs nice to be able to talk about this stuff with someone.â She paused, considering her own words. âAt least someone whoâs not on my payroll.â
âWait Iâm not getting paid?â Campbell joked. Y/N leveled a glare at him. He held up his hands in mock surrender. âIâm kidding, I swear.â He considered her words for a moment. âIt is nice.â
They fell into a comfortable silence. Slumped against the couch as gravity tugged at their eyelids. Campbell didnât have the presence of mind to fully question the strange position they had found themselves in. But he mulled over her words. He wondered about his own friends, nearly every one of them was an ocean away or six feet under. Maybe having a friend only a few feet away, regardless of how tumultuous their relationship had been, might not be so bad.
---------------------
Time passed in a laminar flow. Rapidly moving but visually still. Till Y/N bolted upright like a fire had been lit underneath her. The movement startled Campbell out of a sleep he hadnât felt himself fall into.
âWha- wassit?â He grumbled sleepily.
âOh god, what time is it?â Y/N scrambled frantically for her phone. Campbell groaned in protest and refused to open his eyes.
âJust go back to bedâ He mumbled unintelligibly as his sleep-addled brain struggled to catch up.
âOh god, itâs 2 am. Gus will have gone to sleep by now. How am I supposed to get home?â Y/N rambled quickly as her mind spiraled to the worst possible conclusions. âItâs not like I can take an Uber. Iâll get kidnapped or thrown in a ditch or held for ransom or-â
âShhhhhhâ Campbell blindly fumbled, attempting to silence her anxiety spiral with a finger to her lips. He succeeded in aggressively poking her cheek. âJust stay here, itâs not a big dealâ The words came out before he recognized what he had said.
âWhat? Really?â Y/N asked, shocked he would even offer. Campbell finally opened his eyes, blinking up at her as his brain finally processed the situation.
âIâll just sleep on the couch.â
âI canât take your bed, Campbell.â
âSure, yae can.â
âItâd be rude to make you sleep on the couch.â
âEh, I fall asleep here half of the time anywayâ That much was true.
âAre you sure?â
âIâm sure that I would like to go back to sleep now,â Campbell said, stretching out his long limbs with an indignant groan.
âRightâŚâ Y/N played with her hands again. âI donât have clothes to sleep in.â Campbell froze. It was taking him too long to respond. She would notice the panicked look on his face any second now. Must deflect with humor.
âOi, yae come to my house, steal my whiskey and my bed. Now yae wanna steal my clothes!? Yae really are a princess.â
âI resent that statement! You offered every single one of those things willingly. And I never technically asked to borrow clothes.â Y/N countered. All qualms about taking Campbellâs bed were suddenly thrown out the window.
âIt was heavily implied!â Campbell argued as he tried and failed to lift his tired body off the couch. He groaned and flopped back down against the couch in defeat. âCanât move⌠too comfy.â
Y/N rolled her eyes and attempted to stand. The world tilted as her equilibrium attempted to maintain a grasp on the situation. It seemed their impromptu nap had not fully sobered her up. She put one foot in front of the other and attempted to take herself to bed. Y/N had taken care of herself plenty of times before. This time was no different. Sheâd simply let Campbell continue to sleep off their poor decision-making while she eventually stumbled onto some kind of soft surface.
Determined to sort out her dilemma on her own, she marched forward. This determination was short-lived as she realized she had no idea where she was going, or where anything was, and the idea of wandering through Campbellâs apartment without continued express permission to do so made her skin crawl. Y/N attempted to shake Campbell awake. However, he was quite determined to become one with the couch.
âPsst, Campbell.â A shake. A groan. âCampbell, wake up.â Another shake, this time a much more irritated groan. Y/N wasnât sure if it came from her this time. âCam, please, I donât know where anything is.â She whined, feeling rather exasperated. The nickname caused him to peek open and eyelid. They were on nicknames now. Huh.
âFine, fine, donât get all twisted up about it. Iâm getting up.â Campbell reluctantly peeled himself from the dent heâd made in the couch cushions. He gestured for her to follow him as he sleepily shuffled down the hall. Y/N followed closely behind, poorly gauging the distance between them as her cognitive function fought both sleep deprivation and whiskey.
They managed to stumble into Campbell's room with little difficulty. Without much forethought, he pulled open the doors to his closet in search of an acceptable hoodie for Y/N. Instead, he triggered an avalanche of clothes to pour out of the closet. Right. He had âcleanedâ earlier.
Y/N howled with laughter as Campbell attempted to stop the onslaught with his body. Nearly doubled over as he scowled at her.
âYae couldâve helped me at leastâ Campbell mumbled bitterly.
âNah, Iâm goodâ Y/N managed to say between giggles.
He sighed and plucked a sweatshirt from the top of the pile. His favorite color block hoodie, with only slight apprehension he handed it over to Y/N along with a pair of pajama pants. She took them gratefully and waited. Campbell stared blankly, his mind already half drifted off. Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly.
âI need to changeâŚâ She said. Campbell straightened as his cheek flushed. Social cues had never been his strong suit but that was just downright embarrassing.
âRight, sorry.â he said quickly, scrambling out of the room. The door closed a bit too loudly behind him. Campbell busied himself with pouring two glasses of water in an attempt to think of anything else. And judging by the amount of whiskey left in the bottle, they were both going to need it.
Campbell considered forcing them both to grab a midnight snack, he was getting rather responsible in his own right. A yelp followed by a solid thud came from his bedroom. He raced back to the door.
âAre yae okay?â He asked. The groan he heard in response was not promising. âShould I come in?â
âNoâŚâ Y/N's voice came pitifully from the other side of the door.
âDid yae fall?â It was quiet for a moment.
ââŚyesâ She finally answered. Sounds of shuffling ensued before the door to the room finally opened. Revealing a disheveled Y/N on the ground wearing his clothes. Campbell stifled a laugh.
âCome on, letâs get yae into bed.â He offered her a hand, which she accepted with a surprising amount of grace for someone who had clearly made out with the floor two seconds earlier.
Y/N drunkenly climbed into Campbellâs bed, stretching out her limbs and letting out a happy sigh. The sight of her burying her face into his pillow made the pit of his stomach turn in the most pleasant way. He set down a glass of water on the messy bedside table and helped her pull the covers up over her shoulders. Such a small, sweet gesture. If he didnât know better, he wouldâve pressed a kiss to her brow before wishing her goodnight.
As he turned to leave, before doing something he would certainly regret, a hand caught his wrist. Y/Nâs big wide eyes watched him in the darkness.
âCam?â Her voice was softened by oncoming sleep and edged with uncertainty. The nickname made his heart flutter.
âYeah?â His voice cracked slightly. For someone who hated being told what to do, in that moment, Campbell was fairly certain he wouldâve done anything she wanted.
The silence between them lasted two beats too long. Y/N eyes trailed from Campbellâs figure in the dark, illuminated by the hall light, to the space in the bed next to her. He gulped. She sucked in a breath.
âNever mind, goodnight,â Y/N said, dropping his hand and pulling the covers up around her chin. Cocooning herself in blankets that Campbell knew damn well smelled like him.
âGoodnight,â He said, fighting the lump in his throat. Campbell retreated, closing the door quickly behind him before she could see the panicked look on his face.
What the hell was that? Campbell felt his heart climb into his throat. It was similar to that time he rode the tilt-a-whorl at the carnival over and over again until he puked. Dizzy spinning sensation in the head and everything. He drank too much. That was all. Starting tomorrow he was following Eddieâs lead and swearing off the stuff forever.
It took the amount of time for Campbell to walk from his bedroom to the couch for him to realize he never changed into his pajamas. Damn it all, heâd rather sleep in the same clothes than go back in there. He shakily laid down on the couch and pulled the throw blanket over himself. The same one Y/N had been hogging all night. A faint scent of perfume still lingered. Campbellâs mind raced, replaying the events of the night over in his mind. The thought alone was enough to give him whiplash.
From laughing to fighting to drinking to becoming friends to whatever the hell just happened. That was a thorn his mind kept snagging on. Y/N had just faceplanted, she wasnât thinking straight. There was nothing more to it than that. He shoved the thought into the back of his mind, hoping it would take the anxiety with it.
All of the tired energy heâd been lugging around was nowhere to be found as he memorized the details of the ceilings. Friends. They were friends now. How bizarre.
How do you go from hating each other to being friends so quickly? Had they ever really hated each other? The more Campbell thought about it, his feelings towards Y/N resembled more of an affectionate rivalry. If they put the pettiness behind them, what was their dynamic going to look like?
Forget the far future, what was tomorrow morning going to look like? He lost himself in a daydream of burnt pancakes and dancing around the kitchen. Of arguing over who gets to pick the music for far too long before flipping a coin for it. Of giving her the first cup of coffee out of the pot so she doesnât get any grounds at the bottom of her cup. Of some sappy little love song spilling out of his speakers as he takes her hand and spins her around. The light from the window hitting her crooked smile just so-
Campbell sat up in a panic. The daydream followed his heart down to the pit of his stomach.
Oh. Oh fuck.
A/N: ahhhhh so that break lasted longer than i was expecting. so sorry for disappearing yâall. things have been a little crazy on my end. my boss got fired and we all been working overtime for the last two months cause they still havenât hired a replacement. plus october/november has two back-to-back death anniversaries for me so i didnât really have the motivation or the wherewithal to write this in the way i really wanted to. but itâs here now!!! and way longer than i was expecting! itâs cutting it a little close but iâm happy i was able to get this out in time for tota takeover. i hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for waiting this long
(also iâve always wanted to write one of those âOh, Oh.â moments hehehe)












