Summary: Rising music sensation Rafe Cemeron is getting ready to hit the road for his first headline tour. Hot off the heels of two tours as an opener, this is his opportunity to prove that he's got what it takes to be number one.
Rafe has been so focused on his artistry and becoming the very best that he has put music above all else. The last thing he expects is to fall for his new tour photographer. Don't mix business with pleasure...or do.
Warnings: MDNI. Read at your own discretion. Allusions to sex, crude language.
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Short Summary:Â After Rafe disappears without a word, one phone call forces both of you to finally say everything you've been avoiding. Hurt feelings, raw confessions, and one quiet plea turn a painful night into something that feels like hope.
The phone rings twice before I finally pick up. My hand's trembling a little, my fingers tight around the phone, but I steady my voice and force myself to breathe.
"Hey," I say, quieter than I mean to.
There's a pause on the other end, long enough to make my stomach twist. Then his voice comes through, low and already defensive.
"You mad?"
I blink hard and stare at the ceiling, like the cracks in the paint might give me patience I don't have. My chest feels tight, full of everything I've been holding in since he left.
"I don't know, Rafe," I say. "You just left. No text. No call. What do you think?"
He lets out a sharp breath. I can picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw tight, eyes looking anywhere but straight ahead.
"I needed space," Rafe snaps. "You were pushing."
That stings more than I want it to. I sit up straighter in bed, the blankets falling into my lap, my heart thudding hard against my ribs.
"I was trying to talk to you," I say, my voice shaking now. "That's not pushing. That's me caring enough to ask what's wrong."
"You always want to dig into everything," he mutters. "Sometimes I just need quiet."
I let out a bitter laugh, the kind that tastes like frustration and hurt. I press my free hand to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut.
"So you disappear?" I ask. "That's your version of quiet? You just leave me here wondering what happened, wondering if you're coming back, wondering if I said the wrong thing again?"
His silence lands heavy between us.
When he speaks again, his voice is softer, stripped of some of that sharpness. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't care."
I swallow hard. My throat's so tight it burns.
"Well, you did," I whisper. "I sat here thinking about every single thing I said, every look on your face, every second before you walked out. I kept wondering if I did something wrong. Again."
Another pause. I can hear him breathing, rough and uneven, but it's not enough. Not when he's miles away and I can't read his expression, can't tell if he means any of it.
"You didn't," he says finally. "It's me. You know how I get when things pile up. I just... I don't know how to deal with it sometimes."
I close my eyes, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. One still slips free, warm against my cheek.
"Then talk to me," I say. "Even if it's messy. Even if you don't know what to say. Just talk to me. Don't shut me out like I'm just some girl you can ghost when it's convenient."
His inhale catches, sharp and uneven.
"You're not just some girl," he says, voice cracking. "You know that."
"Then act like it," I whisper. "Because I can't keep doing this, Rafe. I can't keep standing here, loving you like this, and feeling like I'm one bad day away from losing you. I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for effort. I'm asking you to stay."
There's a long pause. So long I pull the phone away to make sure the call's still connected. My pulse beats loud in my ears, and the room feels too small, too warm, too quiet.
"I know," he says at last, and he sounds wrecked. "I know I messed up. I just... when things get bad in my head, I start thinking I'm only gonna make it worse if I stay."
I wipe at my cheek with the heel of my hand. "You make it worse when you leave without a word."
He doesn't argue with that. For a second, all I hear is the faint static of the line and his breathing.
"You're right," he says. "I'm sorry. Really. I messed up. I'll come by, okay? We'll talk. No running this time. No shutting down."
I nod, even though he can't see me. My voice is barely above a whisper when I answer.
"Okay. Just... don't make me feel like I'm the enemy when I care about you. Don't make me regret trying."
"You're not the enemy," he says immediately, and something in his tone makes my heart ache. It's raw, stripped bare, like he's finally saying the part he's been trying to hide. "You're the only thing that makes me feel like I'm still human."
My breath catches.
I don't say anything at first. I just let the silence stretch between us, heavy but healing, filled with all the things we're still too scared to say. My fingers tighten around the phone until they ache.
Then I draw in a shaky breath and look toward the bedroom door, like I can already picture him standing there.
"Come home," I say finally, and this time it comes out softer, fuller. "Please."
He exhales like he's been holding that breath the whole time.
"I'm on my way," he says.
I close my eyes and hold the phone a little tighter, letting those words settle somewhere deep in my chest.
"Okay," I whisper.
And for the first time all night, the silence doesn't feel like abandonment. It feels like hope.
there'll be happiness after you | Drew Starkey x black!reader
summary: what can you do when you're back in the same place where you had your heart broken for the last time? Is there any way to move past all the hurt and longing?
a/n: ok so I'm sorry for the long wait for this... This will be the last part of this story :'( I want to thank you guys for the love shown in this because this is my first time writing for anything other than House of the Dragon in a loooong time. I hugely suggest listening to "No Goodbyes" by Dua Lipa, "Funeral" by Zara Larsson or "happiness" by Taylor Swift during this read. I hope y'all enjoy it!
dividers: @/saradika
warnings: some cuss words, angst.
The morning after a was never my favorite. Always waking up with a pounding headache and lips as dry as a desert is not the best way to start a day. But there was something about today that made it all worse, for some reason, my brain decided to remember most of the events of the previous night─ touches, kisses, promises, apologies─ everything.
A part of me prayed that I'd forget about it and be able to sneak out without him noticing, but seemed like he was expecting that already and gotten up before I was even awake. The only thing that made it clear that he was indeed at home, was the soft sounds coming from the kitchen.
Okay... I know this apartment like the back of my mind, so since the kitchen door wasn't a direct line for the main door, maybe if I'm quiet enough I'd be able to leave without him noticing, right?
Dwelling on it would only make it worse, so I got up, picked up my clothes from the day before, and quickly got dressed again, this time feeling much more exposed than I did last night. I looked around for my phone, but it wasn't anywhere to be seen. Cursing myself, I remembered that I left it in the living room. Great, a detour.
Thankfully I didn't have to worry too much about how my hair looked as the braids did half the work in keeping it presentable. With a sigh, I walked out of the room with my heels in hand and kept quietly praying to the gods above to grant me this one wish. I just needed my phone and then I'm able to leave.
As I reached the main hall, I could see the bathroom door closed and the lights on. Great, this would be even easier. I quickly walked towards the living room looking for my phone, thankfully it was exactly where I remembered leaving it. It took me no time to grab the device and turn toward the door, only to have one of the biggest jump scares of my life.
"HOLY SHIT!" My left hand instinctively went to my chest as my heart rate increased.
Yeah, there goes my prayers. Drew was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was messy and there was still a small air of sleepiness around him. He cleared his throat as he stared at me.
"Yeah, I knew you'd try to do that," he said with a shrug.
"Well, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid," I snap back after I'm calmer.
I could feel my hands getting sweaty and the weight of his gaze upon me was making me feel so uncomfortable. Like there was this white elephant in the room getting bigger by the second.
"Uhm, I kinda have to go-"
"Come on, let's talk over breakfast."
Without giving me a chance to answer he walked back towards the kitchen and I had no choice but to follow him. With a bit of reluctance, I dragged my bare feet after him. The cold tiles on the floor were not even bothering me as they were five minutes ago.
The worst kind of deja vu bathed me as I stood by the counter. The last time I was here was the worst day of my life, so I wasn't feeling great watching him move so effortlessly.
He filled two glasses with black coffee and the toaster with white bread before picking up some jam and cottage cream cheese.
I sat on one of the benches and quietly accepted the plate he handed me once it was all done, he then proceeded to sit by my side and we began to eat in silence, more like me watching him eat as I sipped my coffee.
"So you were just going to sneak out?" He asked casually after a few minutes as he coated his toast with jam.
"What did you expect me to do? I shouldn't even come here in the first place," I bite back and he places his mug down.
"Well, I thought you would at least grant me the chance to talk. We have a lot to talk about."
"No, we don't. We fucked and that's it. It shouldn't have happened and it won't happen again. It can't happen again." I confess, with the instinct of avoiding to meet his eyes.
"What do you mean? We have to talk this through and fix what happened. I know that I fucked up but you just left. As if it all meant nothing to you. We were getting married, for fucks sake." He says, throwing his hands in the air in annoyance.
At that, I stand up and begin walking back toward the living room. I had to leave. This could escalate and both of us leave even more hurt than before.
"I'm not doing this again. I didn't just leave. You pushed me away. You didn't give me a reason to stay. That's what happened."
"I love you! How can you say that?"
"Yeah, you might. But do you like me?" The words leave my mouth before a second to think them over.
He watches me for a second before running a hand over his face. All the traces of sleep were gone from his features now.
"Because I did. And I was so in love with you too," I continue, as my eyes begin to sting. "I was so ready to have the rest of my life by your side. So, how could you do that to me? When did I stop being enough?"
The questions kept flowing out and I couldn't filter my feelings or my words. I just wanted this to end once and for all. My brain couldn't stop reminiscing on last night's events. His touches, his kisses, him.
But being sober now and knowing it all was killing me. How could I be such a fool? After I tried so hard to erase him from my mind...
"No, baby, please listen to me, okay? Just let me talk," he pleaded taking a step closer.
"No, Drew. There is nothing to talk about. I shouldn't have come here and this shouldn't even be happening."
My voice is slightly pitchier than I'd like but I couldn't help it.
"Do you have any idea of how hard it was for me?" I ask looking at his glossy eyes. "I don't get to travel all around the world and the country so I can simply put what happened aside. I had to deal with pitying looks for weeks. I had to walk around the city remembering a life we planned together but wouldn't have anymore. I have to keep on living knowing that that the man I loved didn't choose me when I really fucking needed him to."
At this point, I wasn't trying to keep track of my tears or my words. I just needed that out of my chest so I could be free. I was so tired of carrying these in my heart that even if it hurt, it was freeing.
"So it would be so fucking unfair to me if I just walked back into this," I say as I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "I can't do this to myself again. No matter how much a big part of me still cares about you. I deserve better. I have to choose myself because you clearly didn't."
He didn't say anything at that because there wasn't anything that could be said. Both of us knew that I was right.
Seeing him cry was like picking at an open wound, it made me feel even worse. But, what else could I do? I could feel this eating me up inside and I couldn't look past all the suffering I went through just because he showed up again.
"Loving someone isn't enough to keep a relationship going. You have a lot to do and you didn't, you really didn't. So I'm sorry if I can't just pretend to be okay with everything after a few hours spent together after a few months."
"You think you're the only one suffering in this? I lost you and I had to wake up in our bed every day. I had to be in this apartment knowing that the person who made it a home wasn't going to return. And that no matter what I did or who came by, it was never going to be the same."
His confession made my heart clench but he brought this upon himself. It wasn't me who gave up on it.
"And who's to blame for that?" I say looking into his eyes.
"I know. Don't you think I've blamed myself enough for that? Because I did, for all the days that you have not been here. This is the first time in seven months when I have felt a sense of normalcy and that's because you're here. Don't you see that?"
Now that the bandaid was ripped once again, the both of us were in tears standing in the middle of the living room. The walls felt like they were getting closer and closer each second that passed.
"Did you know that Frankie came by on the third month? She gave me the TED talk of my life."
That caught your attention, Frankie has never mentioned that. At all.
"She told me that she knew that I wasn't good enough for you from the start, but that she had never expected me to be a shitty partner too. That she had never seen someone disrespect their girlfriend as much as I did without even knowing and that now that I was single the reason for my breakup pushed me aside for someone more interesting. So that not only was I trash for how I treated you but I was also dumb for not seeing it."
His words come as a shock to you. With shaking hands and deep breaths, you look around the room trying to focus on something that isn't his red face.
"And she's not wrong, you know? And I was also a coward for never coming to you and watching your life on the sidelines."
At this point, I was feeling the huge urge to sob. My hands were sweaty, my tears were not even drying in my face as new ones came down.
"So I'm sorry, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for it. But please, don't say that I didn't care enough about you. Because I did."
His words keep ringing in my ear for a while as I try to place my thoughts correctly. Seven months ago I thought that it would be the last time I would see him and then I'd be able to heal and move on, but now seeing him and hearing everything was bringing a new wave of unaddressed feelings that I have not dealt with yet.
"I can't." A whisper comes out of my lips after a while. "And you have to understand why I can't do this again. I can't ignore everything."
He looks at me with his lips trembling as his tears keep on falling down his face. In the walls of this apartment now the only sound that rang was defeat. This was a lost cause and no matter what happened, both of us would be losing today.Â
"I'm sorry, Drew. I really am, but there's nothing that can be done anymore. " I declare as I finally feel like he might let me go. "I hope you find someone who's ready and brave enough to love you through it all, you deserve to be loved and the times that I felt genuinely loved by you were the greatest. That person just won't be me."
Like the first time, months ago, I turned towards the front door and walked out. Knowing that he would not follow me and that whatever had remained seven months and thirteen days ago, was completely over this time. Even if a huge part of me kept screaming at me to forgive him, I knew I couldn't. Not only it wouldn't be fair to me but I knew what would happen. Of course she wasn't as present in his life anymore, she completely isolated him from any potential significant other he could have. And if we got back together, the cycle would repeat itself and I would never put myself in a situation where I had to fight for someone's attention just to be tossed aside as if I was nothing.Â
In this story, there was ever only one winner and it wasn't either Drew or I.Â
