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flothunderstorms · 5 days ago

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FAVOURITE BAND

𝑰𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒙 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒐’𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒏’𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅.

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Warnings: Well, I honestly don’t know? Only that Alex is petty and a sappy romantic at the same time.

Word Count: 6.5k

The sky is crying lightning.

No pun intended. Literally, the rain is pouring heavily with the sound of thunder shaking the insides of my room.

It’s gloomy. It’s dark. It’s cold. And it’s only 10 in the morning.

In the past, I never got to appreciate the weather. I never got to notice every single droplet that hits the pavement nor feel the cool breeze of air as the storm unravels.

Oh how it’s nice to finally be not on the move.

Is it really?

I shake my head to get rid of that nagging voice in my head.

That voice that seems to mock me and question every single decision I make in my life ever since I broke up with him.

He who must not be named.

Okay, the ‘him’ is Alex Turner.

He is practically everywhere. There is no way I could not known his presence nor not a day I’m not hearing his voice as their songs play on the radio every single day on every damn radio station nor see his face as it is plastered around London and is on every social media sites as their band keeps on skyrocketing its popularity in the world.

And I’m happy. Of course I’m happy. I’ll always be proud of him. But God, that was why we broke up.

It’s too much.

Or is it?

Of course it’s too much! We were always on the move. Everything is about him. I support him. I fly with him. I stayed with him. I felt bad that I never had a proper job and I’m always on tour with him and free tagging along and it felt like I’m losing myself. Albums after albums. Tour after tour. Awards after awards. I’m happy for him for getting what he finally deserves as I’ve been here since day 1, since the debut album.

But who am I? What am I to him?

I’m just known to be Alex Turner’s girlfriend. That I’m nothing but his comfort while on tour. The girl people crop out in photos and replace their faces with. Honestly, I have no grudge over that.

But then came the new Album. Their Fifth album. It was different from their previous album and I was enthralled.

But then he said:

“It’s all about you, peach,” Alex says as he rubs his nose lovingly on my cheek.

I chuckle nervously, avoiding his gaze when he places his hand on my cheek to stare directly at me. He doesn’t know all the death threats and nasty remarks I have read earlier online as I have promised him I won’t ever look at them before.

But I can’t help it. All of this just because I loved a boy?

"I wouldn't if I were yous and are you sure 'bout the tunes?" I smile uneasily.

His brows furrow and uncertainty flash around his brown eyes.

“Don’t you like it? Are they shite?”

I immediately shake my head. “No, no! God, no! Al, you’re one of the best musicians out there and I’m sure your tour ticket sales and monthly listeners speaks for it. I just, well, most of your fan base hates me so I don’t think it would be wise to let the world know you wrote these songs about me.”

His stare deepens and seriousness takes over his feature.

“I don’t care people say about me nor to us. I love you and they should get over it. Why should I hide the fact that I made these songs about my girlfriend? The love of my life? My inspiration?” He states in all seriousness.

“Good to know you call me when you’re high,” I joke, his features softening.

“Okay not all songs are about you obviously but majority, you. You’re my muse.”

We broke up with not really knowing what and how it happened.

Everything just changed. It was extra busy. It was extra heavy. It was extra suffocating. It was chill busy before, but since the new album came out, he suddenly had this different approach which I support as I know he loves to embody every song he plays and for this tour he’s some rock ‘n roll rockstar, but everything just felt different for some reason. This time it is dark. It’s more loud at the after party. It was more alcohol and at times some drugs that ensue afterwards.

It’s too messy and chaotic, and I realise I need to breathe. I need to stop. I need order.

I need to break up with him before we both bring each other on the ground with no one to lift the other and save from falling at the pits of chasm.

“And you should get a real job this is not gonna work out!” I shout from the other side of the room as I pack my things with blurred vision from tears I have been keeping at bay not to fall freely on my face.

I don’t know why I said it when in reality it should be me who should get a real job.

Alex is just standing there, confused. Honestly, I am too. I don’t know what we’re fighting about. I don’t know what the argument is at all. I don’t know why we’re screaming at each other’s face.

And we’ve been like this for weeks now.

“I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby, something I can do to prove you wrong. This is my job. This is a real job! I love my job!” Alex hits back.

“Your job to snort cocaine off someone’s thighs at the after party of your show?” I grit my teeth in agitation.

He rolls his eyes and throws his arms in the air.

“You were there! It was a dare! You said I should go for it!” He widens his eyes as he reasons out.

“What should I even reply when everyone is staring at me expectantly to agree already and if I say no I know this will be a topic on the news that I’m your strict girlfriend that you should cut off as I’m ruining your rockstar image?!” I bite back.

“Well, you’re no fun!” Alex replies childishly.

I bite the insides of my cheek from refraining from replying anymore because I know it would be useless. He’s high and I don’t know how high he is nor if his mind is still grounded on this world. This is just a never ending cycle of conversation that all would be forgotten tomorrow day, and I sigh at that realisation.

Maybe it’s time to end the cycle.

And now I’m here all alone on a gloomy afternoon wrapped in duvet laying on my queen sized bed.

Boring.

Maybe this is what I need: Boring. Not on the move. It’s nice. No backstage. No aeroplanes. No more hotels. No champagnes. No fucking every after show and even before he goes on stage. No travelling. No discovering new places together. No being tourists in another country. No post adrenaline every after show. No parties. No clubs.

No Alex Turner.

Maybe I don’t need it. Maybe I never needed it. Maybe I am happy. Boring. Yes. Yes this is what I need.

I need common. Boring. Normal. I need normalcy. I need plain. I need not to be on the move. I need… I need Alex.

No, get it over yourself.

Just in time as if the universe is making some sick joke about me, my phone began to ring.

Oh, it’s Ben. Wow.

I accept the call and smile widely, as if he’s seeing me from the other side of the call.

“Good afternoon, love!”

His voice is lighter. His accent is that of proper stereotypical British accent.

I’m missing the deep raspy voice with a tinge of Sheffield accent.

Nope. Shut up.

“Hey, Ben! What’s up?”

“Well, just wanna ask if you have any plans tonight? You know, for a third date,” he giggles.

He giggled.

He giggled like he is hiding something mischievously from me.

I scrunch my nose and hit myself mentally for picking every move he does and start to compare it with Alex.

“No! I’m free. I have nothing to do,” I say with a hint of sarcasm to myself. Of course, you are free now. You have nothing to do now. You are boring now.

“Well, it’s settled! I’ll pick you up at 6? We’re going somewhere!” Ben announces with much enthusiasm that I feel a slight of guilt for not being able to reciprocate.

“Ooh, where to? Dress code?”

“It’s a secret! It’s my favourite place. Just wear something casual,” he once again giggles.

I bid him goodbye after agreeing and end the call.

Usually my night before would consist of backstage romance and now… this. A date with a guy who giggles and asking me out to go to his favourite place which I have no idea of just to be pecked on the lips at the end of it. Don’t get me wrong, Ben is cute. Ben is nice. Ben is super respectful. God, he was even shaking at our first kiss which was on the second date. He was sweating on the first date just to ask me if we can hold hands together. I wonder what will happen on this third date tonight.

Maybe I’ll get laid. I sure God hope so. It’s been months… I badly need to get laid.

With Ben or with Alex?

Okay I need to get up and get moving before my mind wanders off on that memory in the past. I am touch starved. I am touch deprived. I don’t want to go there because I should be moving forward.

But God do I miss him. Especially at night.

I start to get ready and eat something light. I put on my black slip dress and some tights, just in case Ben’s favourite place is outside because it’s still cold. I pull off my old trusty cheetah print coat before slipping on some boots and flicking off the lights in my room.

The doorbell rings loudly and that’s my cue to go downstairs. I opened the front door and there he is.

“You look lovely,” Ben greets, kissing my cheeks in the process. He held a bouquet of flowers in front of him and I gratefully took it. They are pink roses.

Alex used to give me tulips. I love tulips. I hate roses.

Maybe I need to start liking roses now because I can’t keep throwing all the bouquet of roses Ben keeps giving me.

“Let me just put these roses on a flower vase before we head out.”

The journey to his favourite place started. It was silent inside the car, and I felt uneasy as it’s too quiet and decided to open the radio to fill the silence. The radio started to scan for available radio channel stations and I sighed in relief as one has been found.

“And that was Little Things by One Direction! Now let’s turn the mood up this evening as this next song is ‘R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys!”

My blood freezes cold.

The opening lyrics fills the car and I hear Ben gasps out loud.

“Holy shit! I love this song!” He says while turning his head briefly to tell me directly. He starts to sing along to the lyrics and do some air drums while I am still frozen on my seat as I am reminded how Alex’s voice sounds like.

How much do you miss him?

“Don’t you like this song?” Ben genuinely asks in concern and I finally move to look at him. I gave him a fake smile and shake my head.

“No! I don’t even know who they are,” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh that’s perfect! I love this band! They are called Arctic Monkeys! I thought you’d at least know their frontman, he’s quite hot on the ladies,” he jokes, nudging me briefly.

I grimace at his last sentence but covered it with a slight laugh.

“So, where are you taking me?” I change the subject.

“We’re near there!”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

If it’s even possible, my blood freezes colder as I look at the sight in front of me once we have stopped and Ben parked his car.

His favourite place? I have been here many times before.

It’s an Arctic Monkeys show.

I looked around to see if there’s a camera and this is all some elaborate prank the world has played on me.

“Where are we?” I whisper ask in denial.

“We are going to an Arctic Monkeys’ concert! It’s my favourite place in the world!” Ben giggles, even clapping as he beams at me with so much joy.

Oh, no.

We got out of the car and he takes my hand. I raise my eyebrows slightly at his courage and feel a strap being slid on my wrist. I look at the familiar “VIP” wristband. Not the usual wristband I had before as that was an all access one.

“VIP, huh?” I say in amusement.

“Nothing but the best! They are amazing!” Ben continues to praise the band.

Oh, Ben.

I’m well aware about how my outfit fits in on our whereabouts and I facepalmed myself mentally when I realise I have worn my trusty cheetah print coat. And a slip dress. And my alligator skin boots.

I smile at the sky and narrow my eyes knowingly at whoever deity is up there.

We got past security quickly and oh, the familiar faces of security here that I have to bow my head to not be recognised. Some fans are even looking at my direction and I hope and pray to God no one ever says a thing.

I just want to have a peaceful date with my new man and possibly to get laid… hopefully.

“Let’s try to get near the barricade!” My new man gushes beside me as he grabs my hand and weaves our way towards the front.

Oh, fuck.

We are two rows behind the barricade. Center. Dead middle. Right in front of where I know is Alex’s mic stand.

And then the lights went off.

The scream amplifies as spotlight suddenly hit the stage. One by one, the band members walk out while waving at the crowd. My heart is beating out loud and seems that it wants to get out of my chest and I instinctively wrap an arm on Ben’s bicep for stability. I spotted Nick getting closer at the left side of the stage and our eyes meet. His eyes widen as big as mine probably and soon his lips turn upward into a big smile, waving at me excitedly.

“For Alex?” Nick mouths at me before breaking his eye contact with me and noticing that I am with someone. His smile turns into a frown as he pointedly looks at me.

“He’s a fan,” I mouth back, hoping he can understand my response. Nick didn’t get to respond when the scream of the crowd amplifies and I know who just walked on stage.

There he is. Wearing a black shirt and a jean jacket, his gelled hair is now sporting the quiff. Handsome strong jawline, his cheeks sporting a natural blush, and his pink lips is holding a lit cigarette in captive. He adjusts his guitar strap on his shoulder as he scans the crowd, his red guitar resting on his abdomen. As if just like the old times, his eyes gravitated towards mine and for the first time in months and since that night that we broke up, our gaze connected.

Oh, Lord.

Those warm brown eyes that have light up my darkest days. The same eyes that have gazed longingly at me, that assured me that it will be alright as I go through my worst fears, that cried with me on a sappy movie, that held me captive as I moan his name like a prayer.

The eyes of the man who is my first love and whom I have shared most of my first with.

And like Nick, his eyes widen in shock subtly. Alex’s lips start to open but his stare went to the person beside me and his face forms into a scowl immediately. He took a long drag of his cigarette as he moves forward to his mic stand, now avoiding my gaze.

“Oh my God, I think Alex Turner just looked at me!”

I got brought back to my reality as Ben, who I am with now, says excitedly at my ear.

Oh, boy.

This will be a long night.

The show started. There is nothing much more where I could look at except at him. I have looked at the ceiling. At the security in front. At the heads in front of me as they bop along to the song. At Ben who is grinning like a Cheshire Cat unaware of the daggers the frontman is sending him. God, I’m not your strongest soldier. I could feel his gaze on me at every lyric he sings, and there are times I know he’s purposely accentuating some words which I know he wrote about me.

And now is the song I dread the most of the night.

“This song is about a girl called Arabella! She is right here in the crowd tonight.”

Oh, Alex.

Everyone person screaming and claiming that they are Arabella.

“You know, you kinda dress like Arabella!” Ben says in my ear, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me further on his side. I stumble and place a hand on his chest, my head turning at the front as it clashes with his shoulder, making me inadvertently look in front of me, which I have connected my stare with at my rockstar ex-boyfriend.

“Oh that boy’s a slag,” Alex scowls at me, singing a bit a part of one of his songs before he starts this one.

Alex never broke his stare at me as he sang the song word for word. Neither did I break our gaze as I can’t even dare to look away.

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

(That’s magic) in a cheetah print coat

(Just a slip) underneath it, I hope

(Askin' if) I can have one of those

(Organic) cigarettes that she smokes

(Wraps her lips) 'round a Mexican Coke

(Makes you wish) that you were the bottle

(Takes a sip) of your soul, and it sounds like

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

And that’s the end of the night.

I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that song was their closing one. Everybody in the arena clapped and cheered loudly as the show came to an end. The band gathers in the middle and took a bow, blowing kisses to the fans cheering them on. Whistles and screams echoed in the room, with some yells of “one more song”, as usual, filled the air.

“You think you can handle one more?”

Oh the way everyone’s voices multiplied and the crowd started to become alive again when the frontman walked back to his microphone stand. My eyes furrow together in confusion as he never does this before.

Alex’s eyes gazes into mine but now his lips are etched into a teasing smirk.

“What are you up to, Alexander,” I mouthed-whisper, narrowing my eyes at him.

But his smirk just widened and God damn, I know that look all too well.

He’s up to no good.

“Okay since you guys have been the best crowd so far on this tour, this one is a new song, unreleased yet. Made it the other day and finished it right now, ‘cause I just found the right inspiration,” Alex pointed at the crowd, specifically at me, and I choked on my own breath.

I really hope it’s not what I think it is, that this song would be about me.

My heart rapidly beats out of my chest and I feel like I’m going to throw up from being anxious. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. It’s just a new song, by my ex-boyfriend. Not all songs are about me.

He must really just be messing with me. This is just torture. He’s just playing a game. This is a classic Alex move.

The thoughts in my mind are racing a million miles per minute. I honestly am getting dizzy because I don’t even know what to think.

This is a mistake. Coming here. Maybe going out with Ben in the first place is a mistake because it’s clear I haven’t moved on from him because Alex has still had this great effect on me after all these months I have convinced myself that I have gotten over him.

I shake my head to try and clear my head and stop myself from spiralling down on dizziness.

“God, you’re so lucky! From all the Arctic Monkeys’ shows I’ve been to, this is the only time they are doing this!” The man beside me gushes, squeezing my shoulders in excitement.

I honestly could just cry now.

“Oh, Ben,” I say in return, biting my lip to contain myself from all these emotions I am having right now.

And the lights went dim once more.

A single spotlight is trained on the frontman of the band, with his cherry red electric guitar strapped on his shoulder. A joyful foreign melody starts to play, and maybe, maybe this will be a happy song.

Alex straightly looks at me, a serious expression now sporting on his handsome features.

I hope he plays us in the car

With your feet up on the dash, yeah

I'd like that, yeah

Oh, no…

“I hope he fucking breaks your heart… I’m just kidding,” he sings while he gives me an innocent puppy look but his mouth curved into a smirk.

“No I’m not,” he continues and shakes his head.

This damn bastard.

I'm over, "I wouldn't if I were yous

And are you sure 'bout the tunes?"

Ooh-ooh-ooh

"And you should get a real job

This is not gonna work out"

Oh my God.

Those were my words to him before… I feel like I just have been stabbed, the guilt flowing freely from the fresh open wounds that these words have created.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when it's sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

Okay, now this song is about us.

I looked to my left and saw Ben swaying his head along to the music, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil brewing in my chest down to my stomach.

The guilt doubled. Ben does not deserve someone like me. He deserves a far better girl than me. Not this girl who’s still hung up on his ex, the ex who’s in Ben’s favourite band.

So, when you see me on TV

And he's singing all the words, oh

I hope it hurts, yeah

But, you won't say a singlе thing

'Cause he treats you likе dirt, that seems to work

Oh fuck off, Turner.

Would you curse my name?

Would you start a fight?

If my lyrics started playing in your bar tonight?

In the pouring rain, would you stand outside?

After closing time?

That bridge just hits too close too home. I freeze, standing and still locking eyes with Alex, the guilt sitting heavily on my stomach. It seems like I am not the only one who was affected after he sang those lines, even him, he was standing and not moving after saying those lyrics.

The cheers and screams of people sounds distant, seems not to reach my ears and not to register on my brain that I am in a room full of people, probably half who knew I had dated that man on stage. It seems like it was just me and Alex, standing in front of one another, completely lost for words.

He seems like he was snapped out from his train of thoughts as he clears his throat and starts to continue to sing, to finish his song.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when I'm sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

I cannot hear this any further.

“I-I need to go, Ben,” I hurriedly stammer out to the man I came here with, not even bothering to wait for his reply before I push myself out of the crowd.

Hisses and complaints ensued and all I could do was to utter a quick apology as I made my way out. I see myself out of the arena, my legs moving automatically as it knows its way where to go. However, as I pushed the door that would lead me outside of the arena, I forgot it wasn’t like what it used to be where I will be met with privacy of the backstage, but instead I am met with fans who are waiting outside in front of the arena.

Multiple sets of eyes are trained on me and I suddenly felt the blush creeping up from my neck to settle its way on my cheeks as looks of familiarity start to blossom on their face to being fully aware of who I am.

“Oh my God, is she back with Alex Turner?”

I slammed the door shut and went back inside the arena. My heart starts to race and that creeping feeling of anxiety and self-doubt starts to cloud my heart and mind the way it used to before. It wasn’t as bad as it was before, as maybe I have loved myself more and learned more how to not care about the opinion of others, but the judging stares that I have seen just resurfaced some emotions I have suppressed from before.

I now try to make my way to the familiar direction backstage, a little bit shocked that security personnel were not stopping me despite not having an all access pass, but they just nod in my direction as they let me enter and make myself out of this arena using the other exit.

Finally I saw the exit and sighed a relief, pushing it and I am met with some water droplets from the sky. There are no fans in this exit, only some staff I recognized as they begin to pack up the venue. However, a familiar voice from a distance starts yelling my name, in full volume, making me stop in my tracks.

“For Christ sake, I know you like me chasing you, but peach, we are getting old, my knees hurt. Please stop!”

I whip my head to the direction of the voice and witness Alex in front of me, catching his breath as if he ran a marathon. Droplets of sweat falling from his forehead to his already sweaty clothes he wore on stage.

“What are you doing here,” I whisper in disbelief.

“This is me chasing you and hoping to start a fight and then we make up,” he says proudly, smiling cheekily as if we have not broken up months ago and this is our first ever interaction since that night.

Him acting nonchalantly ignites anger sleeping dormantly deep within my bones and I did not even realise my hands started to raise and hit him squarely on his chest, in which he did not even move the slightest.

Alex’s pink lips stays into an amused smile, watching me push him while sending daggers with my eyes.

“What the fuck is that song all about?!”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory, no?” He teases, infuriating me even more.

“My new boy’s favourite band? Really? And our conversation as your lyrics?! Are these all a joke to you!!” I yell loud enough to have my voice heard as the water droplets from the sky turn into thunderstorms.

Alex had enough and gently held my wrist firmly, stopping me from my weak attempts to push him or hit him on his chest. He brought one of my hands in front of his face, kissing the inside of my wrist tenderly, and I melted into his touch and action.

I forgot what I was even angry about.

“I mean you’re new boy looks nice, a bit boring, and I’m sure that’s not your type,” Alex starts the conversation once more and we are back to the infuriating feeling.

I pull away my hands from his touch and scowl at him. I turned my back on him and proceeded to go outside, the pouring rain instantly wetting my coat and my face. I start to walk and disregard Alex’s voice calling out my name.

“Oh come on, love, stop! You’ll get sick! Let’s go inside!” He catches me from behind, holding my arm and stopping me from walking away, but I just wriggle out from his hold and continue to walk forward, not even knowing where I was even going.

“He’s a nice man!” I say, finally stopping and facing him.

He raises his eyebrows at me and a look of ‘agree to disagree’ sports his face. “Yeah, sure. Is he good in bed too?”

I became silent at his question and I looked away from his gaze. My silence is a dead giveaway already.

“You two haven’t? Oh? Oh,” Alex smiles contently, nodding his head in satisfaction. His reaction just brewed annoyance inside of me.

“We are getting there! Getting to know each other. First part of the dating stage!”

“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t had any sex since we broke up too, peach. However, you’re getting to know him on my show? Your ex’s concert?” He smiles in a playful way.

God, he looks so damn beautiful right now, the rain hitting him, droplets of water falling in his face and landing on his cheeks, his hair getting messy and flopping on his forehead, but I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

“I didn’t know he’s a fan of yours!” I hissed in response.

From the distance, a figure starts to run forward, and the voice follows by calling out my name. Alex’s expression turned into a frown as he rolls his eyes at the person approaching behind him.

“Hey you okay? I’ve been looking for you everywhere and security actually led me here. Can’t believe I’m even allowed to be here! Feels like any moment I’ll run with any members of the band!” Ben jumps excitedly as soon as he reaches me, not even aware of the man scowling at him on his side.

“Ben, I—”

“Mate, sorry, but we’re having a conversation here.

Ben’s head whipped as fast as it could be and I saw how his eyes widened, the colour on his face leaving him pale as a ghost and a gasp broke out from the back of his throat. Confusion starts to kick in, as he starts to look between me and Alex, back and forth, trying to connect the dots on why his date is together in the pouring rain with the band member of his favourite band.

As if the light bulb had turned on, his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh! So the douchebag ex is him,” Ben says, whispering the last word as if not wanting to let the person know we are talking about him.

The him crosses his arm in his chest, glaring at me with amusement painted as his expression, and leaning on one foot making his hip pop towards me in a sassy way.

“A douchebag huh?” Alex continues, still amused.

“Oh oh her words man! I mean, well, I know you’re not a douchebag, you’re a cool one! I’m a big fan of yours!” Ben stutters out, explaning himself that I mentally facepalmed myself.

Can somebody please get me out of here?

“Ben, I’m sorry, but can we talk later?” I say in resignation, just wanting for him to leave so me and Al’s conversation can be done.

Like a good puppy, he nods enthusiastically and without a word, run off from where he came from.

“Oh, he’s boring nice,” the man in front of me comments as soon as the other person was not within our earshot.

“Alex, honestly, I don’t even know what we’re talking about here.”

”I’m sorry.”

He takes one step forward, effectively closing our distance. I look up to see his face, inches away from mine, seriousness taking over his features. The rain has only intensified, instead of chilling and freezing me to the bones, all I could feel is Alex’s warm spurts of breathe fanning my face, and his touch on my arms shooting up electricity on my whole body and jumpstarting my heart to race rapidly.

I missed this. I missed him. I missed us.

“What are you even sorry about?”

“Everything. Just come back to me, please. Come back to me, baby, I know we both know we truly belong to one another. It’s us and it will always be us. Please, tell me you don’t love me anymore as much as I am hopelessly and deeply in love with you, and don’t lie to yourself,” He says lowly, yet I heard all the words clearly despite the thunderstorms breaking in the sky. He held me tightly, his arms snaking on my waist to pull me on his chest, his body warmth negating the cold water pouring from the sky, as we cheesily do this conversation as if we are in some romcom, that all will be well after this.

But this is real life, and life is not a romcom movie.

“Alex, we’re never gonna work out. This is never gonna work out,” I start to insist he starts to open his mouth to rebut, but I continue to speak to shush him.

“It’s not you, it’s me. You deserve someone better, who could better support you, and all I have done the past months before we broke up is make you feel like shit, and that’s not what a partner should be. I should be the one apologising because all I ever wanna say is how proud I am of you and all the success you’re getting, but I’m scared I can’t live up to it, to what you need and what you like, because you’re all this and you could have any person in the world, and—”

“God, just MARRY ME!”

That effectively silenced me, if that’s what Alex is going for.

My mouth hung open as I look up at him, blinking as if that would have it rewind what he just said seconds ago. I didn’t say anything and waited for him to either repeat what Al just said or to retract it.

Alex just scans my face for any indication about my expression to his question. His hands went upwards and now hold my cheeks, his thumbs caressing the apples of my cheeks as he holds my face so I will not be able to look away and focus on him only.

“Just please, marry me. Fuck this, I’ll leave everything just say yes,” Alex once again asks, in all seriousness.

“But Al, I—”

“Do you love me?” He cuts me off.

“Al you know—”

“Just yes or no, baby.”

“Yes, I love you,” I say in all honesty and sincerity. That made Alex’s brown eyes soften, his hold on my face tightening securely.

“I love you too, peach. It has always been you. Okay now, have you ever considered marrying me. Do you want to marry me?” He says softly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my forehead.

I swallow my anxiety and the creeping negative thoughts and just went to the flow of my feelings for this man. “I do, but—”

I was silenced once more when Alex shuts me from starting to ramble by pulling me in for a kiss. My lip moves automatically with him, his familiar taste suddenly invading my senses, warmth surging within me. A quiet gasp broke from my lips as he bites my lower lip lightly, his tongue making its way to mine, just like the old times. My body molds with him, our shared breaths syncing, and all of this while we are being continuously drenched by the rain.

“No, ‘buts’, peach. Just you and me. Don’t think about the others nor anything else, ‘cause they don’t matter, yeah? Just you and me,” he says reassuringly as he pulls away slightly to catch our breaths, standing firmly in front of me.

“Just you and me,” I repeat, nodding along with him, and not even knowing what he is saying as I was completely wiped off from a single kiss.

“That is settled. We’re getting married,” Alex says, nodding more, a beautiful smile blossoming on his pink lips as he realised the effect he has on me by that just one kiss.

“We are getting married,” I repeated to him once more.

“Oh fuck, you’re going to be my wife,” Alex says in realisation, both of us calming down and finally realising what just transpired.

“I’m your wife?” I say confusedly, a little bit dizzy of how our conversation went from arguing to this.

“Technically what people will say is you are my Fiancée, but I don't care, you’re my wife. My love. My soulmate,” he says cheekily, wrapping an arm on my shoulder by now.

“Oh please, so cheesy, Alexander,” I playfully roll my eyes as he leads us back to the arena.

“I’m your cheesy husband then,” he counters, squeezing my shoulders.

A comfortable silence settled between us as all that could be heard is our rapid heart beats and the soft pitter patter of the rain on the ground. I lay my head on Alex’s shoulder, looked up at the sky, and smiled at whoever deity is up there for finally answering my prayer.

Finally, at home at last.

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

This is honestly not one of my best works (apologies), as this was really rushed. No concrete solid plot as well. I wrote this for shits and giggles, because I can’t stop listening to this song and when I listen to a song, my mind just creates these scenarios and I just need this scene to get out of my head.

And Happy Pride to everyone! Love always wins 🌈.

Here is the song at bar:

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flothunderstorms · 6 days ago

Text

FAVOURITE BAND

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Warnings: Well, I honestly don’t know? Only that Alex is petty and a sappy romantic at the same time.

Word Count: 6.5k

The sky is crying lightning.

No pun intended. Literally, the rain is pouring heavily with the sound of thunder shaking the insides of my room.

It’s gloomy. It’s dark. It’s cold. And it’s only 10 in the morning.

In the past, I never got to appreciate the weather. I never got to notice every single droplet that hits the pavement nor feel the cool breeze of air as the storm unravels.

Oh how it’s nice to finally be not on the move.

Is it really?

I shake my head to get rid of that nagging voice in my head.

That voice that seems to mock me and question every single decision I make in my life ever since I broke up with him.

He who must not be named.

Okay, the ‘him’ is Alex Turner.

And I’m happy. Of course I’m happy. I’ll always be proud of him. But God, that was why we broke up.

It’s too much.

Or is it?

But who am I? What am I to him?

But then came the new Album. Their Fifth album. It was different from their previous album and I was enthralled.

But then he said:

“It’s all about you, peach,” Alex says as he rubs his nose lovingly on my cheek.

But I can’t help it. All of this just because I loved a boy?

"I wouldn't if I were yous and are you sure 'bout the tunes?" I smile uneasily.

His brows furrow and uncertainty flash around his brown eyes.

“Don’t you like it? Are they shite?”

His stare deepens and seriousness takes over his feature.

“Good to know you call me when you’re high,” I joke, his features softening.

“Okay not all songs are about you obviously but majority, you. You’re my muse.”

We broke up with not really knowing what and how it happened.

It’s too messy and chaotic, and I realise I need to breathe. I need to stop. I need order.

I need to break up with him before we both bring each other on the ground with no one to lift the other and save from falling at the pits of chasm.

I don’t know why I said it when in reality it should be me who should get a real job.

And we’ve been like this for weeks now.

“I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby, something I can do to prove you wrong. This is my job. This is a real job! I love my job!” Alex hits back.

“Your job to snort cocaine off someone’s thighs at the after party of your show?” I grit my teeth in agitation.

He rolls his eyes and throws his arms in the air.

“You were there! It was a dare! You said I should go for it!” He widens his eyes as he reasons out.

“Well, you’re no fun!” Alex replies childishly.

Maybe it’s time to end the cycle.

And now I’m here all alone on a gloomy afternoon wrapped in duvet laying on my queen sized bed.

Boring.

No Alex Turner.

Maybe I don’t need it. Maybe I never needed it. Maybe I am happy. Boring. Yes. Yes this is what I need.

I need common. Boring. Normal. I need normalcy. I need plain. I need not to be on the move. I need… I need Alex.

No, get it over yourself.

Just in time as if the universe is making some sick joke about me, my phone began to ring.

Oh, it’s Ben. Wow.

I accept the call and smile widely, as if he’s seeing me from the other side of the call.

“Good afternoon, love!”

His voice is lighter. His accent is that of proper stereotypical British accent.

I’m missing the deep raspy voice with a tinge of Sheffield accent.

Nope. Shut up.

“Hey, Ben! What’s up?”

“Well, just wanna ask if you have any plans tonight? You know, for a third date,” he giggles.

He giggled.

He giggled like he is hiding something mischievously from me.

I scrunch my nose and hit myself mentally for picking every move he does and start to compare it with Alex.

“No! I’m free. I have nothing to do,” I say with a hint of sarcasm to myself. Of course, you are free now. You have nothing to do now. You are boring now.

“Well, it’s settled! I’ll pick you up at 6? We’re going somewhere!” Ben announces with much enthusiasm that I feel a slight of guilt for not being able to reciprocate.

“Ooh, where to? Dress code?”

“It’s a secret! It’s my favourite place. Just wear something casual,” he once again giggles.

I bid him goodbye after agreeing and end the call.

Maybe I’ll get laid. I sure God hope so. It’s been months… I badly need to get laid.

With Ben or with Alex?

Okay I need to get up and get moving before my mind wanders off on that memory in the past. I am touch starved. I am touch deprived. I don’t want to go there because I should be moving forward.

But God do I miss him. Especially at night.

The doorbell rings loudly and that’s my cue to go downstairs. I opened the front door and there he is.

“You look lovely,” Ben greets, kissing my cheeks in the process. He held a bouquet of flowers in front of him and I gratefully took it. They are pink roses.

Alex used to give me tulips. I love tulips. I hate roses.

Maybe I need to start liking roses now because I can’t keep throwing all the bouquet of roses Ben keeps giving me.

“Let me just put these roses on a flower vase before we head out.”

“And that was Little Things by One Direction! Now let’s turn the mood up this evening as this next song is ‘R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys!”

My blood freezes cold.

The opening lyrics fills the car and I hear Ben gasps out loud.

How much do you miss him?

“Don’t you like this song?” Ben genuinely asks in concern and I finally move to look at him. I gave him a fake smile and shake my head.

“No! I don’t even know who they are,” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh that’s perfect! I love this band! They are called Arctic Monkeys! I thought you’d at least know their frontman, he’s quite hot on the ladies,” he jokes, nudging me briefly.

I grimace at his last sentence but covered it with a slight laugh.

“So, where are you taking me?” I change the subject.

“We’re near there!”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

If it’s even possible, my blood freezes colder as I look at the sight in front of me once we have stopped and Ben parked his car.

His favourite place? I have been here many times before.

It’s an Arctic Monkeys show.

I looked around to see if there’s a camera and this is all some elaborate prank the world has played on me.

“Where are we?” I whisper ask in denial.

“We are going to an Arctic Monkeys’ concert! It’s my favourite place in the world!” Ben giggles, even clapping as he beams at me with so much joy.

Oh, no.

“VIP, huh?” I say in amusement.

“Nothing but the best! They are amazing!” Ben continues to praise the band.

Oh, Ben.

I smile at the sky and narrow my eyes knowingly at whoever deity is up there.

I just want to have a peaceful date with my new man and possibly to get laid… hopefully.

“Let’s try to get near the barricade!” My new man gushes beside me as he grabs my hand and weaves our way towards the front.

Oh, fuck.

We are two rows behind the barricade. Center. Dead middle. Right in front of where I know is Alex’s mic stand.

And then the lights went off.

“For Alex?” Nick mouths at me before breaking his eye contact with me and noticing that I am with someone. His smile turns into a frown as he pointedly looks at me.

“He’s a fan,” I mouth back, hoping he can understand my response. Nick didn’t get to respond when the scream of the crowd amplifies and I know who just walked on stage.

Oh, Lord.

The eyes of the man who is my first love and whom I have shared most of my first with.

“Oh my God, I think Alex Turner just looked at me!”

I got brought back to my reality as Ben, who I am with now, says excitedly at my ear.

Oh, boy.

This will be a long night.

And now is the song I dread the most of the night.

“This song is about a girl called Arabella! She is right here in the crowd tonight.”

Oh, Alex.

Everyone person screaming and claiming that they are Arabella.

“Oh that boy’s a slag,” Alex scowls at me, singing a bit a part of one of his songs before he starts this one.

Alex never broke his stare at me as he sang the song word for word. Neither did I break our gaze as I can’t even dare to look away.

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

(That’s magic) in a cheetah print coat

(Just a slip) underneath it, I hope

(Askin' if) I can have one of those

(Organic) cigarettes that she smokes

(Wraps her lips) 'round a Mexican Coke

(Makes you wish) that you were the bottle

(Takes a sip) of your soul, and it sounds like

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

And that’s the end of the night.

“You think you can handle one more?”

Alex’s eyes gazes into mine but now his lips are etched into a teasing smirk.

“What are you up to, Alexander,” I mouthed-whisper, narrowing my eyes at him.

But his smirk just widened and God damn, I know that look all too well.

He’s up to no good.

I really hope it’s not what I think it is, that this song would be about me.

He must really just be messing with me. This is just torture. He’s just playing a game. This is a classic Alex move.

The thoughts in my mind are racing a million miles per minute. I honestly am getting dizzy because I don’t even know what to think.

I shake my head to try and clear my head and stop myself from spiralling down on dizziness.

“God, you’re so lucky! From all the Arctic Monkeys’ shows I’ve been to, this is the only time they are doing this!” The man beside me gushes, squeezing my shoulders in excitement.

I honestly could just cry now.

“Oh, Ben,” I say in return, biting my lip to contain myself from all these emotions I am having right now.

And the lights went dim once more.

Alex straightly looks at me, a serious expression now sporting on his handsome features.

I hope he plays us in the car

With your feet up on the dash, yeah

I'd like that, yeah

Oh, no…

“I hope he fucking breaks your heart… I’m just kidding,” he sings while he gives me an innocent puppy look but his mouth curved into a smirk.

“No I’m not,” he continues and shakes his head.

This damn bastard.

I'm over, "I wouldn't if I were yous

And are you sure 'bout the tunes?"

Ooh-ooh-ooh

"And you should get a real job

This is not gonna work out"

Oh my God.

Those were my words to him before… I feel like I just have been stabbed, the guilt flowing freely from the fresh open wounds that these words have created.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when it's sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

Okay, now this song is about us.

I looked to my left and saw Ben swaying his head along to the music, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil brewing in my chest down to my stomach.

The guilt doubled. Ben does not deserve someone like me. He deserves a far better girl than me. Not this girl who’s still hung up on his ex, the ex who’s in Ben’s favourite band.

So, when you see me on TV

And he's singing all the words, oh

I hope it hurts, yeah

But, you won't say a singlе thing

'Cause he treats you likе dirt, that seems to work

Oh fuck off, Turner.

Would you curse my name?

Would you start a fight?

If my lyrics started playing in your bar tonight?

In the pouring rain, would you stand outside?

After closing time?

He seems like he was snapped out from his train of thoughts as he clears his throat and starts to continue to sing, to finish his song.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when I'm sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

I cannot hear this any further.

“I-I need to go, Ben,” I hurriedly stammer out to the man I came here with, not even bothering to wait for his reply before I push myself out of the crowd.

“Oh my God, is she back with Alex Turner?”

“For Christ sake, I know you like me chasing you, but peach, we are getting old, my knees hurt. Please stop!”

“What are you doing here,” I whisper in disbelief.

Alex’s pink lips stays into an amused smile, watching me push him while sending daggers with my eyes.

“What the fuck is that song all about?!”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory, no?” He teases, infuriating me even more.

I forgot what I was even angry about.

“I mean you’re new boy looks nice, a bit boring, and I’m sure that’s not your type,” Alex starts the conversation once more and we are back to the infuriating feeling.

“He’s a nice man!” I say, finally stopping and facing him.

He raises his eyebrows at me and a look of ‘agree to disagree’ sports his face. “Yeah, sure. Is he good in bed too?”

I became silent at his question and I looked away from his gaze. My silence is a dead giveaway already.

“You two haven’t? Oh? Oh,” Alex smiles contently, nodding his head in satisfaction. His reaction just brewed annoyance inside of me.

“We are getting there! Getting to know each other. First part of the dating stage!”

“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t had any sex since we broke up too, peach. However, you’re getting to know him on my show? Your ex’s concert?” He smiles in a playful way.

“I didn’t know he’s a fan of yours!” I hissed in response.

From the distance, a figure starts to run forward, and the voice follows by calling out my name. Alex’s expression turned into a frown as he rolls his eyes at the person approaching behind him.

“Ben, I—”

“Mate, sorry, but we’re having a conversation here.”

As if the light bulb had turned on, his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh! So the douchebag ex is him,” Ben says, whispering the last word as if not wanting to let the person know we are talking about him.

The him crosses his arm in his chest, glaring at me with amusement painted as his expression, and leaning on one foot making his hip pop towards me in a sassy way.

“A douchebag huh?” Alex continues, still amused.

“Oh oh her words man! I mean, well, I know you’re not a douchebag, you’re a cool one! I’m a big fan of yours!” Ben stutters out, explaning himself that I mentally facepalmed myself.

Can somebody please get me out of here?

“Ben, I’m sorry, but can we talk later?” I say in resignation, just wanting for him to leave so me and Al’s conversation can be done.

Like a good puppy, he nods enthusiastically and without a word, run off from where he came from.

“Oh, he’s boring nice,” the man in front of me comments as soon as the other person was not within our earshot.

“Alex, honestly, I don’t even know what we’re talking about here.”

”I’m sorry.”

I missed this. I missed him. I missed us.

“What are you even sorry about?”

But this is real life, and life is not a romcom movie.

“Alex, we’re never gonna work out. This is never gonna work out,” I start to insist he starts to open his mouth to rebut, but I continue to speak to shush him.

“God, just MARRY ME!”

That effectively silenced me, if that’s what Alex is going for.

“Just please, marry me. Fuck this, I’ll leave everything just say yes,” Alex once again asks, in all seriousness.

“But Al, I—”

“Do you love me?” He cuts me off.

“Al you know—”

“Just yes or no, baby.”

“Yes, I love you,” I say in all honesty and sincerity. That made Alex’s brown eyes soften, his hold on my face tightening securely.

“I love you too, peach. It has always been you. Okay now, have you ever considered marrying me. Do you want to marry me?” He says softly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my forehead.

I swallow my anxiety and the creeping negative thoughts and just went to the flow of my feelings for this man. “I do, but—”

“Just you and me,” I repeat, nodding along with him, and not even knowing what he is saying as I was completely wiped off from a single kiss.

“That is settled. We’re getting married,” Alex says, nodding more, a beautiful smile blossoming on his pink lips as he realised the effect he has on me by that just one kiss.

“We are getting married,” I repeated to him once more.

“Oh fuck, you’re going to be my wife,” Alex says in realisation, both of us calming down and finally realising what just transpired.

“I’m your wife?” I say confusedly, a little bit dizzy of how our conversation went from arguing to this.

“Technically what people will say is you are my Fiancée, but I don't care, you’re my wife. My love. My soulmate,” he says cheekily, wrapping an arm on my shoulder by now.

“Oh please, so cheesy, Alexander,” I playfully roll my eyes as he leads us back to the arena.

“I’m your cheesy husband then,” he counters, squeezing my shoulders.

Finally, at home at last.

─────────────────────────

And Happy Pride to everyone! Love always wins 🌈.

Here is the song at bar:

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flothunderstorms · 6 days ago

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Happy pride month, everyone! 🌈

snoopy of the day

#🩷💜💙

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flothunderstorms · 7 days ago

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#Bisous x

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flothunderstorms · 7 days ago

Note

when do you think the next part of this will be posted... sorry, i dont want to rush you 😭 i just love it. ill love anything you write

Hi! Honestly, this means a lot to me coming from you *blushes*, but I should be the one saying I love ALL of YOUR works that I keep going to your blog to see if you have posted anything.

I actually have finished the part 3 of this series, because part 2 is supposed to be all ‘smutty’ and I’m kinda awkward when it comes to writing smut parts that I jumped to part 3 which is all angst… but I have the whole month free and I’m working on it, as I just finished a short blurb which I will be posting later tonight, then afterwards, I would go back and finish part 2 which I will be posting within the week (I know it’s long overdue).

You make me smile :)

#Asks #Beginning of the end #Why am I so awkward writing smut?#Bisous x

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flothunderstorms · 8 days ago

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I just spent the whole morning trying to figure out how this little app works. I think I’m getting old now to the point I read user manual on things now and not just eye ball how things works. And the “ask” thingy on here? God, that’s so cute and you can even stay anonymous. Hoping I could reach a community and have people ask anonymously and me trying to guess who they are based on what they have asked.

#Can anybody see me?#I spy with my little eye #Something sweet like a crush of sugar #Maybe a liiitle bit of sweetness is what I need in my life #Bisous x #:)

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flothunderstorms · 9 days ago

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“You know what to say and what I need, but you’re not giving what I want.

I want your touch. Your kiss. Your love.

Seems like everything is mechanical these days. We move like clockwork. We move like office workers in a corporate setting office. You give me your jacket when I’m cold when all I ever want is for you to wrap your arms around me.

It was sweet of you to give me your jacket, yes, that’s what I need.

But what I want is your arms around my shoulder, your heat dissolving the shuddering cold seeping in my veins.

I need your love. Not your care.

Are we just anxious to leave, Al?”

#Don’t I just love angst?#So many ideas how do I write them all #Finally free for a month #Work in progress #Blurbs #Mind Map #Honey runs like water #alex turner x reader

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flothunderstorms · 12 days ago

Text

AREN’T YOU GOING TO LEAVE ME?

𝑰𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆?

MY MASTERLIST

Warning: Angst

Word count: 8k

You visit me every single night.

Breathing in deeply, closing my eyes for now

And perhaps I'm just daydreaming

There is no single second of my waking day without you occupying my mind. It’s you. Always you. You were here last night and as soon as I woke up this morning… you’re still here?

Will I ever be at peace?

I open my eyes and groan at the glaring afternoon sunlight that escaped through my what is supposed to be some black-out blinds. I must have opened a window to let in some fresh air in the room because I was so sure to be suffocating, no, I was drowning, and you were just there staring at my hopeless attempt to sleep.

You used to soothe the tangles out of my hair and that lulls me to sleep. At the same time, that is how you also wake me up from my deep slumber. It is your hands that calms me, and it was the drink and my wandering hands to be blamed as to why I am currently not feeling your gentle hands on me.

I miss it. I miss you. I miss us.

It’s you. God, nothing will ever be like you.

Why am I worried? Aren't I alone?

I think I will be alone for the rest of my life because of that damn stupid mistake that one night in Paris while on tour. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I did it. It was stupid. I was stupid. If I could just fucking go back in time, I would ban myself from ever entering that city, maybe, just maybe, that will make you be here with me, right back in my bed, where you should be.

I must have been awake for an hour now as I can feel my brain sending different signals in my body. The need to relieve my bladder, the growl of hunger of my stomach, and the buzzing pain in my temples from the whiskey I have drowned to finally push myself to sleep. I feel serene. Finally, calm. It’s a new day, maybe this day would be the day to move forward. The day where I will be seeing the world in colour and whe—

“Alex! I said a decaf!”

I snapped my head towards the sound of your voice. The once white wall is now not empty as you are there standing, laughing at me as your arm reaches out to emphasise the cup of coffee you are holding.

I thought it was calm, but your voice is still calling

Just around the corner of our flat, there’s this your favourite coffee shop that at the same time is a mini bookstore plus sells flowers. It’s your dream to have a 3-in-1 establishment like this, and we were planning on it. I always get your coffee wrong because their menu is in French, and your coffee order is always different every day as you choose your drink of the day based on how you feel, and to hell I know French words, but you love French. You love Paris. You want to stay in the City of Love, but I broke your heart in that very same city we were supposed to build our home one day.

You were destroyed as soon as I confessed that I had slept with someone else. It was the after show in Paris and I, well I had a couple of drinks. Okay, I think I had more than a whole bottle and when I saw her, I don’t know what came over to me to even think it was you. You were in Asia, backpacking with your friends and I have been on tour for months now and we haven’t seen each other that long and I missed you so much my brain was not thinking properly I don’t know, I really don’t know.

And I know it was not an excuse, will it ever be an excuse.

What I know clearly is the next thing that ensued. She went up to me and I can vaguely remember her praising me for the show. It’s a lapse of judgement. It’s an irrevocable mistake. It’s a guilt that would haunt me with your ghost forever.

I kissed her.

I imagined it was you, and when I did, it was the most abominable and the worst thing that ever happened. I slept with her thinking she was you. I saw your face when I pushed my cock into her. I kissed her in the places I know you are sensitive with. I pleasured her just the way you’d plead me to. I called your name when I reached my end.

It was abominable, because at that moment all I was thinking was how it was great to be with you again and was imagining you as I pound into her, and at the same time it was the worst because she did not feel the same as how you would feel, and that brought me back to reality.

What have I done?

Everything has been buried

My wounds have been covered, but why are you still here?

You were not angry at me. Fuck, why weren’t you angry at me, baby? Why didn’t you slap me? Punch me? Shouted at me? Why didn’t you hurt me back the way I have hurt you when I uttered my pathetic stuttering confession to you.

You should feel disgusted by my abominable act. You should feel that deep and burning hatred in your bones. You should be cursing my name to all saints by now.

Instead, you stood there nodding, tears freely flowing down your angelic face as if completely accepting and understanding what I have done. You shouldn’t. You should not have forgiven me so quickly. I was down on my knees and saying the words “I’m sorry” over and over again like a broken record. I don’t know what to do to erase it, but what I know is I will be at your complete mercy for the rest of my life, double it, because even before I am complete already yours to begin with.

You shouldn’t have fallen down on your knees to hug me. You shouldn’t have comforted me as I descended to a breakdown. You shouldn’t be wasting your precious tears on me and cradling my face with your little hands and wiping the tears below my eyes. You shouldn’t have peppered my face with kisses to calm me down from a near panic attack that was about to happen. You shouldn’t be here, be with someone who’s a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend.

And you need to be free from me.

So I broke once more your already broken heart that night.

I broke up with you. I’m someone who is falling back to that chasm of old habits. I’m someone you don’t want to talk about to your family and friends. I’m someone who is unworthy of you: of your attention, of your presence, of your love. I’m falling, baby, and you don’t deserve to fall with me.

And I can’t take it back.

A month later, we met at your favourite coffee shop. I was to give you the last box of your things that you have left from the apartment that we won’t share anymore. You look breathtaking, as always. You look tired, but nonetheless, angelic. You smiled as soon as you spotted me in the corner, immediately making your way over the table. I was at a loss of words, but as always, you always know how to start the conversation.

You asked me how I was and you, you…

You said you’d always care for me, and that you missed me too, because the very first thing that came out of my mouth was those three words floating in my mind for every day in the past month:

I miss you.

Our coffee cup is empty, and it pains me, because this is about to end. It kills me now because we have run out of things to say, and that is an indicator that this has come to an end.

And with one lingering kiss on the cheek from you, we bid each other goodbye, and you walked out of the coffee shop, carrying the box I have prepared, effectively, walking out of my life.

That was the day where it all started. How ironic that your presence has left me yet that was the day I’d be forever haunted by the ghost of you and you will be permanently settling in my heart where there is a hotel suite specifically made for you.

So I went back to my old ways to bury it all. To bury everything. I embraced despair.

I have a tour. We were supposed to do the last leg of the tour and I cannot do it. I cannot pretend that I am one song away from crumbling and breaking down on stage. I cannot act around my bandmates that you were just a momentary fling and I was not affected by our separation. I cannot sing without dedicating every show to you. I’m well aware I have made a lot of songs about you. May it be not the typical love song, but every song that is now on the setlist, there’s a memory I have attached it with you. You dancing to ‘The View From The Afternoon’, you doing air guitar riffs to ‘R U Mine’, you rocking it with me to ‘Body Paint’, you tearing up and pointing at me back to ‘Suck It and See’, and I could honestly go on to my whole discography.

Because I may have made the other songs about other people, but ever since you came to my life, all of my songs have been crafted and made for me to only think about you.

So I covered my wounds to get through this last leg of the tour. I might be the living embodiment of ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll’ plus the booze.

What am I now? Certainly, someone I don’t want to be around.

It's so hard for me to understand

With just this prayer, please let it go, because everywhere

I look, your face is what I see

It’s torture, but maybe I like pain that’s why I let it happen or maybe I deserve to be tormented and be in anguish.

It’s been months.

A successful tour and party and drugs every night. I’m such a lucky man. So what I don’t understand is why do I feel numb? Why do I feel irritated whenever I see couples who are publicly displaying their love to one another? Why do I fuck girls with their face down on the pillow because I can’t bear to see their faces? Why don’t I like the thought of kissing another person on the lips?

Why have I stopped having sex one night because I started to imagine it was you who I’m fucking with and I felt like I was cheating on you?

Why do I prefer going back now as soon as I can to my hotel room alone after a show where I know you will be there with me and visiting me with your shadow?

Why have I started praying at night?

At night I do not even know what I’m praying for. Do I want you gone? Do I want you to stay? Do I pray you will be erased in my memory, because I know there’s no way I’ll be able to live a life in this world without you being mine? Do I wish the universe to align or some sort of miracle to happen for you to fall right back into my arms?

It’s been a year.

What have I been praying for every time I see your beautiful face?

No matter where I go, your shadow clings to my hand

I am slowly being buried alive

I need to get out.

Go out? Get out? I just need to be outside. I must have been on my bed for hours now, because the sun is starting to set by now. I need to stop rotting in this bed, because I feel like I am slowly being buried alive the longer I lay motionless on top of this duvet cover.

These duvet covers you specifically picked.

I went to the bathroom and placed the shower at the max setting, making the water heavily pour down from the shower head and it drowns your giggles effectively my ears are picking up.

I quickly made my shower routine as this time, I feel physically drowning the longer I stand in under the pouring water. It feels so hard to breathe… maybe it was the water or maybe because of the chamomile scent from the body wash that you have chosen for us before.

Yes, I kept buying back the same body wash that you love.

Right now, it smells like you are here in the room. I can smell you on my skin.

You are here. Your shadow darkens where I am standing right now.

Wait, aren’t you really here?

I pat myself with a towel and sigh heavily as I leave the bathroom, the cold air hitting my damp body, consequently making me shiver in response. I hurriedly dressed myself and proceeded to dry my hair. It is getting long now, longer than I have ever had in my life, and maybe I should cut it off? Or maybe I should go bald.

Or maybe I should let you decide?

How would you like my hair styled, baby?

I grabbed my wallet and keys and proceeded to wear my boots, stumbling in the process. I head for the front door and as I open it, I finally exhale a breath I was not aware I was holding in as the fresh air from the outside greets me in the face. The sun has finally set, the surroundings are starting to darken with only traces of a bit of sunlight seeping from the sky. The moon is present, it’s a full moon, effectively shining and making its presence known for tonight.

I start to make my way to the familiar pathway that would lead me to a familiar establishment. I keep my head down and carefully walk so as to not trip on my own feet.

“Alex, dear!”

The familiar soft voice of the coffee shop owner greets me as soon as I enter your favourite coffee shop, and where I have last seen you.

“Hey Barbara,” I put on a smile, something you would have given to this old woman whom you have loved dearly.

“How are you feeling? You good?” She asks as always.

No. I feel worse than yesterday, Barbara.

“Good. Getting better, getting there,” I lie, widening my smile to cover up the deception.

She seems to buy it as she reciprocated the mile and proceeded to make me my usual order. Tea and some croissant, my usual meal before getting blackout drunk.

I truly wish it wasn't torture to go about my day, because everywhere I go, I swear, I still see your face.

Like right now.

My eyes widen at the figure sitting at the back of the shop, I swear it’s you. My heart jumped at my throat as my legs were moving on its own without my brain’s permission, and I swear…

Oh my, it’s you? You are wearing my favourite brown Celine leather jacket, the jacket that you kept of mine and that I gladly gave you, because everything I have and own is all yours.

I am completely yours.

My feet stopped in front of the figure and the figure looked up.

Oh, it’s not you. They were eyes I didn't recognise.

How could I have mistaken you for another person once again?

Am I going insane? Am I forgetting about you? Am I losing it?

“Sorry,” I apologise and sheepishly smile, turning my back and hurriedly going back to the counter where my order is now waiting for me.

I swear that I saw you there.

I looked up at the moon as I sip my tea while my legs absentmindedly made its way to the pub, where I spent most of my nights now. I cannot help but wonder if this is how my life will be forever?

I threw my cup on the rubbish bin and lit a cigarette before going inside.

You loved me smoking.

“Give me a shotgun kiss, Al!”

I looked over my shoulder to look at the source of the voice, the sound of you.

And there you are, in your white baby doll dress and knee socks, pointing at your lips mischievously.

I blinked a couple of times and shook my head to ascertain if I’m dreaming. I rubbed my eyes and soon, you are gone.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself. I finally went inside the pub to ground myself on reality.

Shots after shots as appetisers. Glass after glass as the main course meal. I cannot believe I’m getting cheap drunk from these bottles at the corner pub, a few meters away from the flat.

How did holding your hand turn to holding an empty cup?

The drinks are not doing it for me. I need something stronger. Something that will make me forget about you even for one night.

The question is, do I even want to forget about you even for just a couple of hours?

No, I want to see you just for tonight. Please, baby. Come back to me.

I let my forehead hit the marble countertop of the bar and close my eyes as the noises in my head do not quieten even with all the drinks I have consumed for tonight. If anything, the noise seems to be amplified. I clutch the glass on my hand and press it on my temple, the coolness soothing it lightly.

Maybe it’s time to go home?

I open my eyes and finally lift my head and pay the bartender. At this point, he knows me well enough not to talk to me and just gives me that sympathetic look as he serves me drinks after drinks.

As he swipes my card, I twist my body so now I am facing the crowd and suddenly, my heart starts to race. The hair on my arms starts to raise and seems like the butterflies on my stomach have been set free from its cage, a feeling I usually get before going on stage.

Or whenever I’m with you.

And there you are.

There seems to be a spotlight focused on you as you walk in the room. Every head is turned to you, in awe and admiration that you are gracing us with your presence. You walk effortlessly and throw your head back in soft laughter about the person beside you who has whispered in your ear. Those lips of yours are etched into the biggest smile that would always make my heart flutter and how I would make it my mission to have that happiness painted on your lips every day and vowed to myself to do it for the rest of my life. My body still remembers and knows how to react whenever you are near me.

Have I hit my head too hard?

However the warm feeling that blossomed in my heart is substituted with hot flashes of anger and jealousy as I notice the guy beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist and keeps tugging you on his side, and that made me scowl in dissatisfaction.

Because that should be me. It should be you and me. It should be us who walked in together in this pub for everyone to know that we are together.

And just like before, you always know how I feel. Even the slightest change in my mood, you would know. I never outwardly show my emotions, but you, you always get me.

Because I just met your eyes from across the room for the first time in real life. Those eyes that held me captive, but I have surrendered to be yours completely willingly. Those eyes that have seen me at my best and worst moments, yet never judge me even for one instance. Those eyes that would bring peace and calm in my heart that a storm was previously brewing and waging to happen. Those eyes that cried a river because of my doing yet fought to be with me.

That last thought made me frown in embarrassment. How dare I look at you? I have no right to ever even breathe near you, because I was the one who broke it off. I was the one who broke your heart that in turn I have broken my promise to myself that I will never ever hurt you intentionally. I was the one to tell myself that I did it because you deserve someone else who is far better than me and what I can give you.

However, I cannot take my gaze off of you, because you are finally here in front of me. How have I longed for a moment like this to happen again?

I bite my lip to feel pain and to ground myself once more but this time, I ground myself to sanity, and as I start to break our stare from each other…

You smiled.

Baby, you smiled at me.

And I must be dreaming, this cannot be real. Moreover, it can’t be real that you are making your way over where I am at.

“Alex? It’s been so long!”

I watch as you excitedly jump in front of me, reaching out to touch my shoulder, and your touch brought me back to reality and made me realise I am indeed not dreaming and you are truly right in front of me.

Finally.

“Hey love,” I croak out, cheeks instantly warming up. I could not help my lips from smiling widely and to breathe a sigh of relief from the warmth and familiarity that you bring to me.

You start to open your arms and pull me in for a hug. Arms around my shoulder, and I could not help but instinctively wrap my arms on your waist, rest my cheek on your shoulders, and just like before, everything fits perfectly.

Right now, it’s us and nothing else. In a third person’s point of view, it’s just a guy and a girl, turnеd strangers, nothing more. For me, I see us as just a guy and a girl standing in front of each other, and a couple strangers in this room.

And baby, It's still you, it's still me, everything's just like before.

“How have you been? I missed you!” Your eyes lit up as you scan my face, as if memorising me once again.

I could tell you the truth and everything that has happened to me, but that would be unfair on you. So instead…

“Doing great, love. Just finished the tour and now just having some time off before heading back to the studio,” I answer.

You know it was a lie because you always can call on my bluff, but you accepted my response and pretended that was the truth.

Or maybe you do not know me at all anymore the way you used to?

I shake the creeping negative feelings starting to make their way out of my system and instead focus on you.

“How about you? I haven’t seen you here for a long time. Tell me, what have you been doing, love?”

And just like before, you proceeded with your animated story telling. I love it. I enjoy it. I longed for this. I love how your eyes light up at every happy moment and widen at important key facts, the way your soft hands come into action to support your narration, your inviting lips stretching to enunciate every word for my ears to listen beautifully.

You’re talking to me right now, and as you continue to talk, catching me up on what has happened in your life, there is this demon in my ear creeping and whispering, making me get the feeling that you will never need me again.

That probably is true, and probably for the best.

Suddenly a figure appears behind, situating himself just right beside you, where I should be.

You stop with your chatter and turn to give the person beside you that ‘look of love’, our friends always tell me how you used to stare at me before. You introduced him to me and this guy had the audacity… to smile? Not a sarcastic nor arrogant smile, but a genuine and kind smile, offering his hand for me to shake that it would make me look like a jerk not to take.

“Big fan of yours man! Since the debut album!”

It would be better if he is a dickhead, but God, he may be the nicest man I have ever met.

“Need you back at our table, baby. We’re about to sing Carolina a happy birthday,” he informs you, smiling sheepishly at me for interrupting our moment of conversation.

Yes, be sorry. Not because you interrupted us, but because you called her ‘baby.’

I should be the only one who should be calling you that, baby.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you softly reply to your fiancé. He gives you a peck on your cheek before giving me a pat on the shoulder and finally returning from where he even came from.

“You look happy. I’m happy for you two. Congratulations on your engagement,” I swallow the bile that has risen at the back of my throat and plastered the biggest grin I could muster to hide the lie I just uttered.

I want you to be happy, but with me, not him.

Your lips widen into a smile at my words, accepting those words like a genuine compliment. We fell into a comfortable silence despite the loud chatter of the people in this bar. You are gazing at me and I cannot for the life of me remember the last time you used to stare at me like this. I took this time to scan your face, every detail, every freckle, every curve, every colour. Every part of your face, memorising you and having the image of you burn in my brain permanently. Every detail that has changed ever since you walked out of our favourite coffee shop a long time ago.

God, it’s still you.

It’s still me.

But it’s not us anymore.

“Thank you, Al. It means a lot to me, especially coming from you,” you touch my arm, keeping it there. The warmth of your touch starts to seep in through the fabric of my shirt, burning me in a good way. Your hand moves from where it is resting and starts to rise, at the same time walking a step forward and closing the distance between us, and resting your hand on my cheek. You tiptoed to reach my height, like you always do before, and I watched you as I stood here frozen, bringing your lips at the shell of my ear. Hot breath fans my ear as I feel your mouth presses on it delicately, as if you are about to tell me your deepest intimate secret.

“You know my number, Al. Call me whenever, alright?”

And as quickly as I have felt your warmth filling up my body, how fast was it as well the burn was replaced with the gritting cold as you step back, increasing our distance. Our eyes have met and I do not want to look at anything else other than what is in front of me. I nod at your request, wanting it to be a command for me to fulfil. Your hand leaves my cheek, rising further to tuck a strand of my long hair out of my face, behind my ear, then it goes back to cup my cheek once more, your thumb rubbing it for a second, and all of this without our eyes being disconnected to one another.

You start to nod and we both know it was a bid of farewell.

You should stay.

But you didn’t.

Or did you?

You finally turn your back and proceed to walk back to your table. Oh, everyone was staring at us. As they should be. However, instead of him giving me a death glare, what I might be hoping for, he gives me a smile from the distance, and welcomes you back to your group, finally joining in and starting to sing the birthday tune to your friend.

I break my focus on what is happening in your area and shift it to my surroundings.

It’s the same faces. It’s the same place. Baby, the only thing that changed is… you still feel like mine but, I'm not yours. Even if I want to, even if I keep telling the whole world I’m yours…

But, it's not us anymore

It’s time to truly go home.

I walk out of the bar, not daring to turn my back just to catch a glimpse of you, because if I do, I don’t know what I would have done just to make you stay with me.

The long way back home, no, not a home anymore, back to the apartment is an arduous journey. I don’t know why it is, maybe it’s because every step I take further away from you, my body is literally resisting and my mind is against me leaving you.

Flashes of moments of you start to play in my mind from tonight, every single detail seems to be saved in my brain from our one encounter. Just one encounter. The only real encounter I had with you since that one afternoon where I gave back your box full of your belongings.

Hot tears start to cloud my eyes as my fingers shake, not being able to open the door. I grit my teeth in frustration and bang my fist at the front door of my apartment, the apartment that we do not share anymore. I start to calm myself down and slowly unlock it, finally succeeding. I closed it shut and rested my back on it, tears now streaming down freely on my cheeks. I proceed to remove my boots and walk towards the bedroom, stripping off my clothes in the process and leaving myself down to boxers only before reaching my room. I opened the room and met with the familiar sight of my messy bedroom, just how I left it a couple of hours ago, but what has only changed this time is I can feel you even stronger this time with me.

I hurriedly shut the window and pulled the black out blinds so that no trace of light would even dare to seep in the room. I turned off all the lights before I blindly made my way to bed, putting myself under the thick duvet, as if hiding myself away from the world.

But then there’s you.

I can't be freed

You visit me every night

And so it begins.

Carousel of memories starts to play before my eyes, as if someone pressed the play button and the roll of films starts to project right in front of me.

The first time I ever laid my eyes on you.

The first date.

The first birthday of yours we celebrated.

The first time you went to my show.

The first fight over time zones.

The first anniversary.

Second anniversary.

Third anniversary.

Fourth anniversary.

The last time I saw you before I embarked on tour and you went backpacking.

The time I confessed and the guilt I had when I saw you that night.

Your face as you cry.

The sound of your heart breaking as I end it.

The smile you left at the coffee shop.

And tonight with the way you look so happy, so alive, so in love.

Not with me, but with another man.

No, stop. Stop it, Alex…

I can't see anything

But I can still feel your touch in the dark

I can feel you. All of you. Your heart beating as you press your front on my chest, the way your warm breath fans my neck just right, your soft cheeks resting on my shoulder. The way you play with my hair results in some electricity shooting up my body.

The way you touch my skin right now raises goosebumps on its trail as it glides on my body. The way your soft palm descends and makes its way from my chest down to my abdomen, subsequently playing with my belly before dipping down further to play with my happy trail. The way you rub oh so soothingly and so familiar, stirring something deep in my loins, being translated into something pathetically, as I feel my dick coming alive.

God, no. No, no, enough!

What is happening? Sleep, Alex.

Sleep. Close your eyes, maybe it will work.

No longer dreaming

Can't even wake up

I thought I could get away with you when I close my eyes, but God, you haunt me even more so.

It was the morning after. The way all of the blood on my body seems to have left and all I am is a cold corpse as my heart stopped beating simultaneously. I did not realise the way I had stopped breathing as my hand shakily removed the hair covering the face of the person I had found beside me the moment I woke up.

I know it’s not you. I know you like the back of my hand, baby. The way you sleep, how you feel, how you look as the sunlight slips in between the blinds and shines on you perfectly, how my heart would come alive with just one look at you in the morning.

And right now, all I feel is dread and coldness. The feeling multiplied when I confirmed that the face does not belong to you.

Oh my God. What have I done?

I swallowed dryly as my brain further made me realise not only was it bad enough there is a stranger’s face on my bed, but the fact as to how it came to this position.

I had sex with her.

And I imagined it was you last night.

How could I do that to you?

How dare you, Alexander.

The guilt followed me for days. The way it became routinary as I perform every night on stage when all I want is to finish this God damn leg of tour and see you and confess everything and beg for your forgiveness.

Every ticking second, the guilt becomes heavier and heavier that it is physically weighing me down.

And finally, I went home. Our home. Where our field of dreams have been planted and grown.

“It can’t be that bad, Alex.” You giggled as I stood frozen in front of you, feet cemented on the ground. I looked at you and you knew it was serious, but showing none of that and still trying to calm me down.

“I’m sorry.”

Was the first thing that came out of my mouth, and your face morphs into confusion, eyes blinking up at me innocently and I could not further keep it inside me as the dam I have built inside of me that carries all the guilt I have had since that morning after breaks open and there’s nothing left to be done but let it flow freely, drowning me and you in the first place.

You cried. I cried. We wailed, but mine seems to be louder. I could still remember the way the light on your eyes leaving and being replaced with dark and emptiness. The way I have extinguished the look of love reflecting on your eyes, the fire of your love that keeps me grounded and alive.

But you were trying. You were trying to hold both of us together as we fell apart and keep ourselves from being on the brink of tripping down the chasm. The way your face turns into understanding, into accepting. The way the love you have for me starts to bloom full once again as you are preparing to surrender, the way you kiss all of my sorrows away, and, and…

Your face is something I would never forget and would haunt me forever.

You look so broken yet still angelic beautifully. Tears won’t stop flowing freely from your cheeks, but your mouth is painted into a reassuring smile, making me feel that everything will be alright, as you peck my cheeks, as much as the tears fall from my own.

It hurts to see you this way, and that I am the cause of it.

I didn’t realise I’m no longer dreaming and the tears I was revisiting from that night are happening in real time. Hot tears flowing continuously down my face, seems like acid as it painfully burns as it trickles down the pillow I have buried my face into. I burrow my face further in the pillow, suffocating myself in turn as I heave a breath at the same time, contradicting the two actions. The carousel of memories starts to replay, faster this time. Each memory is a stab on the chest, over and over again.

Over and over and over again. The tears. The pain. The guilt. The love. The laughter. The hardships. The guilt again. The stranger. The guilt again. The pain again. The pain all over again. The pain over and over again electrocuting my body right now and having me shake like a pathetic little boy in his bed and I cannot… I can’t do this anymore.

Hot tears are literally burning my cheeks, and my nose is clogged from sobbing so hard that I did not realise I was crying heavily in the first place and clutching on my pillow for dear life.

Just like any other night.

But this time, it’s worse. The worst. This might be the worst breakdown I have ever had since that night I have broken up with you.

I can’t… I can’t breathe, please.

Please what?

Turn on the light

I'm haunted by my feelings

Of my feelings

“Open the lights please, please, please,” I say out loud, not even realising that I am speaking to myself.

I hurriedly strip off the duvet that is trapping down my body and jump out of the bed. I blindly make my way to the light switch, tripping down on every object that lays haphazardly on the floor. The bright lights made me groan as it hit my eyes, making my way now to my dresser where I am face to face with the mirror.

This might be the first time I have stopped to look at my own reflection. First thing that stared right back at me was my bloodshot eyes, dark bags of circles underneath them. My long greasy hair that stops at my shoulder is framing my head and covering my pale as a ghost face. My beard has gotten longer than I have ever had before, hairs poking at my dry-cracked lips. Cheeks are sporting a natural blush and stained with tears, and my nose is red from, same way it would be from the snow, but it’s from sniffing and trying to breathe through my clogged nose.

Bloody hell, this is what I looked like earlier this evening? This is how you have seen me, darling?

God, what a pathetic old sad man.

In one swift motion, I swing my arm and sweep all the contents placed on the top of my drawer. Several items clash and fall through the ground, glass bottles breaking from the action. I bang my fist on the wooden closet, screaming not in agony of the punch, but from the emotional anguish I have set myself for tonight. The physical pain feels lighter than the heavy suffering I am feeling inside of me.

And there you are with me right now.

Standing in front of me, wearing the red dress you wore on our first date. Your hair is falling effortlessly on your back, hands on your hips as you giggle shyly at me. Your eyes hold me captive, as you gravitate towards me, closing our distance and I could almost feel you, your warmth in front of me.

“So where are you taking me out for the night, rockstar?”

I open my mouth to respond, but you start to fade… everything starts to get blurry and hazy and you are suddenly not in front of me.

“What? No, no! Baby, come back!” I reach out to where you were standing and fall to my knees. I look up and there you are once again, but it was the night I confessed everything to you.

You are staring down at me, with your distraught face.

“Why? Al? How— how can you do this?”

“I’m sorry, please forgive me, baby. I-I’m sorry please I do-don’t know I’m sorry. I’m sorry p-please forgive me baby, take me back. I am so-sorry,” I stammer out, saying apologies like a broken prayer.

“You have broken my heart, Alex.”

I whimper out a while, clutching the carpet floor as the pain throbs inside me, seemingly pinching me from head to toe. I gasp for air, heave for a breath, and collect myself as I stand up and go back to the mirror, grounding myself to reality. I am once again having trouble reminding myself that this isn’t real and this is just all in my head.

Or is it, Alex?

“Please stop,” I beg out loud, covering my face with my hands and rubbing my eyes harshly as white spots start to dance around my vision.

Are you not going to leave me?

Isn't this enough torture for me? (My feelings)

MERCY.

I continue to stare at the mirror but instead of my own reflection, I am met by your eyes.

It was you who was staring right back at me and all I could do was cry.

“Are you not going to leave me…” I plead to particularly no one in the room, but at the reflection of my eyes in front of me.

But I know I am imploring it to you.

Your eyes seem to be mocking me right now, and all I could do is to hit my palm against the mirror, slightly breaking a part of it. Small shards of glasses impaling my wrist and blood starts to flow from the site.

“Please” I sob pathetically.

I don’t know what I am even begging for. Please. Please what? Please get out of my head? Please never leave me? Please come back to me?

Mercy, please?

Can I ever be at peace?

I hate you.

I love you.

“I hate that I love you,” I croak out dryly, wincing at the pain from saying the words out loud. The pain of my sand dry throat begging to be hydrated, making me reach out the unfinished bottle of whiskey on the floor.

Your voice starts to echo in the room. Your laughter bouncing off the walls. Your cries haunt me even when the lights are on.

I scream out loud, a hand gripping my hair tightly, before facing the doorway and absentmindedly throwing the bottle of whiskey I am holding in the direction of where I have seen the last shadow of you.

“MERCY, PLEASE!” I grit out my teeth harshly, pacing the room like a madman.

You were gone when I threw the bottle, because I would never ever even attempt to throw something at you even if it is just the ghost of you.

But now, you are here once again. Staring disappointedly at me. I could not bear seeing your disappointed look at me so I pinched my eyes shut and turned around to face the dresser back again.

“Mercy. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy,” I repeat the word as if it would work like wonders instantly.

I could feel the urge, signifying I am close to the final moments of my breakdown. As this happens every single night, I have already memorised all the stages I go through. The urge is the last step I need to fight through, before I know I will fall into deep sleep from the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion I just survived.

The final stage is the urge to call you.

I have always successfully not pressed the dial button on my phone sitting beside your number and called you. I have memorised your phone number from constantly looking at it every single night on the little cracked screen of my mobile phone that the numbers have been carved on my brain already.

But tonight is different. Different from most of the night. The best night I have had since I don't even remember when, because I have seen you for real, but simultaneously being also the worst night of them all.

I need to call you. You are the only one who can save me.

You are the only one I need. You are the only one I want. You are the only one that will keep me alive.

How can you look at me earlier as if we are back to being friends and pretend we have not shared a bed? How can I live a life knowing that one day there will be children of another man that will have your eyes, the eyes of the girl I have fallen in love with and will not ever forget even in the afterlife.

You are in it for me. You are my heaven. You are my forever. You are my eternity.

Even when I die, you are who I will reach and long for. You will always be who I will go back to as I become reincarnated.

Most especially, you are my peace.

I remember what you said earlier. My body starts to move around the room, my hands begin to blindly search for my phone.

When you call, this will be a never ending cycle, Alex.

But you… you are my peace.

Fuck it, I am tired of this. I am tired of telling myself I am doing this for you, that you deserve someone better, that what you need is someone not me, because baby…

You are made for me. I am made for you.

“Hey” I swallowed away the negative thoughts and finally caved in. All of the thoughts in my mind have suddenly disappeared, all the red warning blaring signs have been turned off.

It’s you.

“Finally, Alex. I have been waiting for you to call.”

And maybe… maybe everything will be alright.

Or maybe, he is just hallucinating or imagining the ghost of you.

Hello you!

So this one was inspired by 3 songs, but the main one is called ‘Multo by Cup of Joe.’ I translated it in English as it’s in another language and the bold italics on this one are the translated lyrics from the said song. I have been obsessed with this song when I saw the edits on Tiktok (yes, I’m not only down bad for Alex Turner, but also down bad using the Tiktok app) and when I learnt about the lyrics, I just can’t seem to get it out of my head until I made this, together with the 2 other songs, which is ‘Falling by Harry Styles’ and ‘Not Us Anymore’ by Bradley Simpson (you should go and give these songs a listen! What a tune).

If you have any comments or suggestions, feel free to tap me! I have a free month and aiming to write as much as I could! :)

If you are reading far enough on this, honestly, I’m grateful someone is reading a creation of my imagination.

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flothunderstorms · 14 days ago