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[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Happier than ever

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Extended Masterpost

Context: Y/N is so so so perfectly happy *practiced smile* yay marital bliss.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Track: Honeymoon (3 months prior)

Chapter soundtrack: Happier than ever – Billie Eilish

When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever. Wish I could explain it better. I wish it wasn't true.

The London night hung heavy outside the windows of the elegant townhouse YN now called home. She sat at her desk, surrounded by scattered sheets of lyrics and half-empty coffee cups. Despite the late hour, her mind refused to rest.

Ever since returning from her honeymoon, YN had been trying her best to bury herself in work. As she sifted through the papers, her phone buzzed insistently, breaking the silence of the night.

She glanced at the screen, the number displayed unfamiliar once again. Another anonymous call, just like the countless others that had become a regular occurrence since her move to London three months prior.

With a sigh, she hit the decline button and tossed the phone aside, frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

At first, she dismissed it as a nuisance, perhaps a misguided fan or a random prankster. But the calls persisted. She had tried blocking the numbers, changing her settings, everything she could think of to put an end to it, but to no avail. The rare times she’d picked up, silence had greeted her before the caller abruptly disconnected.

That night, though, she noticed something. The International dialing code seemed different from usual. A quick google search informed her it was Brazilian.

Her thoughts drifted back to a short conversation she’d had a few weeks prior. Josh. He’d mentioned the band's upcoming tour in South America.

No, YN thought, there’s just no way. She brushed off the thought.

Still, she found herself lying in bed a couple hours later, checking Greta’s Instagram account. There was just no way. Only, she was met with a photo posted just an hour before. The description read, “Thank you for a remarkable show. See you soon, Sao Paulo.”

Fuck.

--

A week later, the glow of her phone illuminated the dark bedroom. Another call, another unknown number, another international code.

With a quick glance at Harry's sleeping form beside her, YN slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him. She tiptoed towards their bathroom and quietly locked the door behind her.

The girl leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she answered the call. Silence greeted her on the other end, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

Enough of this.

"Jake?" she tried, her voice barely a whisper. But there was no response, only the empty void that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

"Is that you?" She tried again, desperation creeping into her voice. But still, there was nothing, only the echo of her own words bouncing back at her.

Frustration bubbled up inside her, mingling with the deep-seated concern that gnawed at her from within.

“Jake, I know it’s-” the call abruptly disconnected. Her heart sank, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

--

For the following three weeks, YN found herself in a semi-constant state of anxiety, her eyes darting nervously to her phone at every passing moment. Nights offered no respite, each small noise in the house sending her heart racing as she scrambled to check her phone.

Finally, on yet another sleepless night, her phone lit up. American dialing code. The boys might have returned to the States before embarking on the European leg of their tour.

Silently slipping out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen and answered the call. Without surprise, she was once again greeted by silence.

After a brief moment, she spoke into the void. "Are you alright?"

There was no immediate response, only the sound of uneven breaths on the other end of the line.

"It's late," she stated firmly. "I'm going to hang up now—"

"I wanted...” the caller suddenly spoke. Her breath was caught in her throat. She’d been right. “I wanted to hear your voice," his voice was rough, his words slurred. YN sighed.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, her tone annoyed. But there was no reply, only the quiet of the night surrounding her.

Suddenly, a noise erupted from the other end of the line, a distant car horn echoing through the darkness.

"What was that?" YN's voice rose with concern. "Was that a car? Have you been driving?"

She knew too well of Jake's reckless habits, the demons that had haunted him like a shadow. The thought of him spiraling out of control in some far-off corner of the world sent a chill down her spine.

"Fucking say something," she snapped, her frustration boiling over. But before she could receive an answer, the call abruptly ended. She winced.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panic began to gnaw at the edges of her mind as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

“Love,” a voice broke her train of thoughts, “what are you doing up?”

Harry.

“It’s Patty” YN said, turning to face him. “Go back to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

Harry's brow furrowed with concern. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

"Yeah," she replied hastily, attempting to brush off his concern with a forced smile. "Just... schedule stuff." She shocked herself with how quickly the lies kept on tumbling out.

“Okay," Harry nodded, turning to head back to bed.

YN couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that ate at her conscience as she watched him leave the room. She hated lying to him, but she couldn't bear to burden him with the truth of her worries, not when she didn't even know how to confront them herself.

When the bedroom door clicked shut behind Harry, YN wasted no time. With trembling fingers, she dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Josh's voice, groggy with sleep, came through the line.

"Do you know where he is?" YN's hushed words rushed out.

"YN, it's like 1am over here, what—" Josh started to protest, but she cut him off.

"Do you know where he is?" she repeated, her tone insistent.

"Where is wh—"

"Jake," she interjected, her voice trembling. "Do you know where Jake is?"

Josh paused for a moment before responding, his voice serious. "At his place, I assume. Why? Wh-what's going on?"

YN struggled to find the words, her mind racing with a million thoughts at once. She quickly explained the situation, knowing that Josh would understand without needing further explanation.

Josh fell silent for a moment. He, too, knew the root of her concern, and understood what scared her to death.

"I'll take care of it," he assured her, his voice firm with determination. "Don't worry."

Relief flooded through YN as she hung up the phone, though she couldn't bring herself to return to bed. Instead, she sat on the sofa, her nerves on edge as she waited anxiously for an update.

 The minutes stretched into hours, and the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window when she finally received a text from Josh.

"He's okay," it read.

Exhaustion gave way to mounting frustration and anger. That’s it? She thought. She’d been staying up all night for this shit; lying to her husband for this shit. She sighed heavily; biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood.

Fuck this.

YN texted back, “Thanks. Tell him to leave me alone.”

__

After a couple of weeks of silence, with no calls disrupting the uneasy calm, YN began to hope for long-lasting peace. She almost felt guilty for her earlier frustrations, often wondering whether Jake was doing better.

However, any hopes of tranquility were shattered when a storm erupted in the Greta Van Fleet online fandom.

A fan's comment on one of Jake's posts caught fire, igniting a frenzy of speculation. The comment read, "Okay, I was at last night's concert and let’s just say, it was not it. I feel like that's been happening a lot recently. So, what is it my man? Trouble with the fam? or did some bitch do you dirty?"

To everyone's shock, Jake had replied to the comment.

 Two words.

 "The latter."

The internet exploded, and although Jake deleted the comment an hour later, the damage was done. The news reached YN like a punch to the gut.

She couldn't believe it. To have Jake talk shit about her on the internet was a new low. Though no one outside of their inner circle knew he was referring to her, the mere implication cut deep. And there was nothing she could even do or say. Especially from halfway across the world.

YN stood on the balcony, gazing out at the sprawling London skyline, but instead of feeling captivated by its beauty, bitterness flooded her senses. Jake had somehow managed to make her hate this city. Worst, he’d made her resent Harry for simply asking her to move there. The constant rain felt like a mockery, and the distance from where she truly belonged only amplified her sense of displacement.

And the most infuriating part? She had let him. Her thoughts were blinded by anger as she put pen to paper. Even after all this time, she had allowed Jake to ruin everything good. Perhaps it was a good thing she found herself far away from him. All he seemed capable of doing was bringing her endless sorrow.

Harry, on the other hand, was the epitome of reliability. He always showed up on time. Got along with her friends, got along with Patty. Did everything right.

So why was Jake the one occupying her thoughts day and night? It was like a poison, slowly corroding the good in her life until all that was left was the bitter taste of regret and anger.

As YN stood on the balcony, her phone suddenly lit up. Jake's name. He finally had the guts to call her with his own phone.

She reached for the device, her fingers curling around it tightly. She stared at it for a moment, considering her options. She could let it ring. Or she could reply. For what, though? She thought. Some half-assed apology? Telling her how it’s all some big misunderstanding?

Without a second thought, she clenched her jaw and, with a determined flick of her wrist, let her phone drop over the railing, watching as it plummeted towards the ground below.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the night as the device met its demise on the pavement.

It was a stupid but cathartic gesture. With a sense of finality, she turned away from the balcony, leaving behind the remnants of her broken phone and the memories it held.

--

Two weeks later.

Jake stumbled along the hotel hallway. The band had just wrapped up a show in Glasgow, which had gone rather well considering the blinding hangover that had been clinging to their lead guitarist throughout the tour. Jake had therefore rewarded himself with a local treat, that is, the now half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. When in Rome, right?

Feeling for his keycard in his pockets, Jake cursed softly as he came up empty-handed. He decided to try the room across from his, hoping his baby brother hadn’t gone to bed just yet. He pressed his ear against the door and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of a TV playing inside. Bingo.

With a drunken knock, Jake announced his presence before the door swung open to reveal Sam. "What's up?" he greeted.

"Lost my key," Jake mumbled, brushing past Sam and collapsing onto the nearest bed. " m’tired," he added, his words slurred from the alcohol.

However, amidst the haze of his drunken stupor, Jake noticed something amiss.

 It was too quiet.

“Why d’you turn it off?” Jake asked, curious.

“Mmh?” The bass-player replied.

“The TV” Jake specified. He had a feeling something was up.

"Oh, uh, nothing good is on right now," Sam replied nervously, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat. "British TV sucks ass," he added hastily. The youngest Kiszka had never been much of a good actor. Jake stared for a moment and Sam knew he could see right through him.

“Jake-” Sam tried protesting, but his brother had already snatched the remote and turned the TV back on. The bright light of the screen suddenly lighting up their features and the sound of laughter filling the hotel room.

There she was. Seated elegantly on the talk show couch. YN exuded confidence as she engaged in conversation with the host.

“So, tell me something,” the host leaned in, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “when are we going to get some new music?” A ripple of anticipation coursed through the audience, and a mischievous smirk danced across YN’s lips.

“Well, I actually just finished recording a bunch of tracks, so—" Before she could finish, the audience erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement palpable. “I know, I know, it’s exciting,” YN continued, her voice barely audible over the enthusiastic applause, “I can’t wait to get back on the road.”

“Back on the road?” the host raised an eyebrow, a playful tone in his voice, “Have you grown tired of Hubby already?”

YN chuckled. "Well, who says I'm not packing him in my suitcase?" she quipped. The audience laughed at her comeback.

"Talking about Mr. Harry Styles,” loud cheers exploded at the host’s mention of YN’s husband, “a little birdie told me you two just purchased a house in our fair capital, is that right?”

“Uh,” YN looked slightly surprised, feeling a pang of discomfort at the invasion of privacy, “yeah, we did get ourselves a little nest-”

“-a 9-million-pound nest” the host joked, eliciting laughter from the audience.

YN let out a polite chuckle. “Yeah, it is ridiculously grand, actually.”

“Is it your first time owning a place?” the interviewer asked.

“It is, yes, see, I’m originally from New York, so renting appartments has always been the way for me.” Jake’s mind drifted to their little apartment back in Nashville.

“Must be quite a change” the host declared.

“Kinda, yes,” she added, “it’s got a bunch of rooms that I haven’t seen in a while, like an actual laundry room, who knew that was even a thing?” the audience laughed, “and a foyer, whatever that is, and a-”

“-Nursery?” the host filled in. The audience leaned forward in anticipation.

“Well, aren’t you curious?” she said, maintaining a playful façade at the interviewer’s lack of tact, “But no, no nursery,” the audience could be heard huffing in disappointment.

“Ah well,” the host remarked, “someday soon.”

“Sure,” she replied with a forced smile, “someday.”

As Jake listened to the conversation, a thought crossed his mind: YN had always been unequivocal about her reluctance to have children. Then again, she had also once been adamant about her aversion to marriage. And yet, here she was with a ring around her finger. The bile rose in his throat.

“Well, we’re running out of time here,” the host abruptly announced, glancing at the monitor. “It’s been a real pleasure, and I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that the world is thrilled to see you embrace this newfound happiness, is that accurate?”

“Oh absolutely,” she replied with a tight smile. “I’m,” she paused, something unseen briefly flickering in her eyes, “happier than ever.”

--

YN never knew why but, after that night, the calls stopped.

--

Next Track: The Bomb

Extended Masterpost

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Honeymoon

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Extended Masterpost

Context: Who knew the honeymoon could end so quickly?

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Word Count: 2.4k

Previous Track: All You Had to do Was Stay

Chapter soundtrack: Honeymoon – Lana Del Rey

YN stood alone on the balcony, the soft caress of the Mediterranean breeze whispering through her hair. She was soaking in the final moments of her month-long honeymoon.

The newlyweds had originally planned a glamorous and very public French Riviera getaway, but after the ceremony she had convinced Harry to alter their plans, seeking refuge in a more secluded villa in Greece where paparazzi dared not tread. The bride was in no mood to make parade of her marital bliss in the press.

Here, hidden from the world, they had basked in the quiet serenity of their love. Yet, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden hues across the tranquil landscape, YN couldn't shake the apprehension that clung to her heart.

Tomorrow marked their return to the real world—a world of prying eyes, whispers, and rumors that trailed in their wake.

The sound of footsteps behind her broke through her reverie, and she turned to see Harry stepping out onto the balcony, his smile as warm as the fading sunlight.

"What are you doing out here, love?" he asked.

YN smiled as she turned back to gaze out over the landscape spread before them. "Just enjoying the view one last time."

Harry came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Do we really have to go?" she pouted, her voice tinged with reluctance.

"I'm afraid so," Harry replied before pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"I wish we could stay here forever," YN murmured, leaning into his embrace.

"Forever?" Harry chuckled, "You wouldn't get bored of me?"

YN laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness. "I could never."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, YN couldn't help but think about the real reason why she wished to stay in this cocoon. It couldn't just be the fear of facing the outside world or the uncertainty of what awaited them back home. No, it was something deeper, something she had been trying to ignore since the moment they said "I do."

"Any plans to meet up with the band after we get back?" Harry's question pulled her from her thoughts, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

She hadn't spoken to any of them since the wedding.

"I...I'm not sure," she replied hesitantly.

 Her gaze drifted out to the shimmering sea below. She had received a text from Josh, a week into the honeymoon. A simple and oddly formal, “How are you?”. She hadn’t known how to respond.

Truth be told, she didn’t know how she was. The honeymoon had been great, nothing short of a fairytale, but-

"I haven't really thought about it,” she added.

Harry nodded gently, and she wondered if he might have known about what had transpired between her and the members of Greta Van Fleet just moments before the ceremony. Between her and Jake.

It was a thought that had plagued her since the wedding – a gnawing uncertainty lurking beneath the surface. After all, with the numerous guests at the venue, most of which were the groom's friends and family, whispers could have easily spread.

Harry must have noticed the boys’ absence at the reception, too, but he’d never mentioned it. Not once. And YN certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Before she could dwell on the thought any longer, their moment of quiet intimacy was interrupted. A member of staff appeared at the door, a polite cough breaking the silence.

"The car has arrived."

With a heavy sigh, YN pulled away from her husband’s embrace.

As they made their way downstairs, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were leaving something behind, something precious and irreplaceable. And as she glanced back at the balcony one last time, she couldn't help but wonder if they would ever find their way back to the innocence they had left behind. The bliss of the early days.

But for now, all she could do was hold onto her husband's hand and pray that together, they could weather whatever storm lay ahead.

--

--

As Jake entered the studio, the atmosphere shifted imperceptibly. Josh and Danny seemed to be engaged in a hushed conversation, their voices trailing off as they caught sight of him. Josh, in particular, appeared to be fidgeting, a nervous energy radiating from him.

"What have you got there?" Jake's voice cut through the silence, his curiosity piqued by his brother's sudden attempt to conceal something behind his back.

"Nothing," Josh replied quickly.

But Jake was not so easily deterred. With a swift movement, he reached out and snatched the object from behind the singer’s back, revealing a crumpled newspaper.

His heart stopped momentarily as he took in the screaming letters on the front page.

YN and Harry Styles Spotted at Heathrow Airport – Lovebirds Finally Emerge from Secret Greek Honeymoon.

Beneath it, a photo captured the couple, their hands intertwined, as they navigated their way through a sea of flashing cameras.

Silence enveloped the room as Josh and Danny waited for Jake's reaction.

The guitarist glanced up at them, his facade of nonchalance slipping for a moment behind the sunglasses he wore. He hated the pity he saw in their eyes, despised being treated like some child, unable to handle basic news.

"Well," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "They couldn’t stay hidden forever." With a dismissive shrug, he tossed the newspaper aside and headed to grab his guitar.

“Jake-" Danny began but was cut off.

“It's fine, really," Jake interjected, "I don't care." With that, he made his way to his spot in the recording booth.

The two other members exchanged a knowing glance. Jake was good at feigning indifference, aided daily by the numbness alcohol provided. However, he must’ve known deep down he couldn't fool his bandmates.

“Are we going to get some work done, or what?” Jake called out, attempting to steer the conversation back to music, if only to distract himself from the ache in his chest.

--

--

As the recording session drew to a close and the studio fell silent once more, Jake found himself alone with his thoughts, the discarded newspaper beckoning to him from the depths of the trash bin. With a sense of resignation, he reached out and retrieved it, his fingers tracing the outline of YN's face in the grainy photographs.

Greece, huh? he thought to himself, a flicker of longing in his eyes. That's where she’d been...

He'd never imagined YN would opt for such a destination. The memory of a conversation from years ago resurfaced in Jake's mind, like a ghost from the past.

--

--

They’d been in the bathtub that evening. His gaze had been fixed on her, as it often was at the time. He could almost still see her.

She was facing him, her eyes closed as she hummed softly, lost in the soothing scent of lavender that filled the air.

"I’ve been thinking," he began. She opened her eyes to meet his steady gaze, "if we're not going to do the whole wedding thing, can we at least have a honeymoon?"

Her reaction was one of surprise, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "A honeymoon?" she echoed.

"Yeah, like, just us going away together for a bit," Jake elaborated.

She giggled, the water rippling gently around them. "You mean, a vacation?"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, you know what I mean," Jake persisted.

Despite his earnestness, she remained unsure, her expression guarded.

“We’re on the road six months a year, Jacob,” she countered.

“I know, but it’s not the same,” Jake insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. “We’re always surrounded by people, never really getting a chance to be alone together.”

"Hey, that's not true," she replied, her voice soft and soothing. "We spend plenty of time just the two of us, don't we?" Leaning forward, she reached out to him with a seductive smile, her fingertips trailing lightly across his skin.

"Yeah, sure, so long as we're within four walls," he muttered, a hint of bitterness coloring his words as he leaned away from her touch.

She blinked, confusion flickering in her eyes. “I don’t get it. What- what brought this on?" she asked, her concern evident. He remained silent. "Wh- Did something happen?”

"Nothing happened," he said quickly, the words ringing hollow in his ears. And nothing ever will, he thought to himself.

"Well then, why are you getting upset all of a sudden?" she asked with frustration.

"I'm not getting upset, you're being selfish," he snapped, the truth of his words stinging even as they left his lips.

She sat there, stunned into silence by his sudden outburst. But as she opened her mouth to respond, he was already rising from the bath, the water cascading off his skin like liquid poetry. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his disappointment palpable.

As he grabbed a towel, she reached out, her voice tinged with concern. "Jake—"

But he shook his head and offered a reassuring smile. “Forget I said anything," he said, his tone surprisingly calm.

As she sat there, the echoes of his words ringing in her ears, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake. Maybe she had been too quick to dismiss his desires, too focused on her own fears to see the longing in his eyes.

All he had wanted was a sign, a promise of forever. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to give it to him. She wasn’t sure why.

She eventually walked into their shared bedroom; the soft fabric of her towel wrapped snugly around her.

She leaned against the doorframe quietly. Jake was sat on the bed, clad in a shirt and boxers, his gaze fixed on the floor, lost in thought.

After a moment of stillness, she broke the silence. "Alright then," she announced with a playful smile dancing on her lips, "What should I pack?"

He met her gaze with a hint of hesitation, his own uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. "Do you reckon we'll need towels?" she pondered aloud.

"I mean, honeymoon suites must have some fancy towels, right?" she mused. "Probably much better than whatever this is," with a playful flourish, she allowed her towel to slip from her grasp, the fabric pooling around her feet in a soft heap.

A smile tugged at his lips at her impish display, his eyes lingering appreciatively on her figure. But he remained silent, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Let's see," she mused aloud, "I'm sure I'll need some cute bikinis, maybe that dress you really like, the black one," she suggested with a playful twinkle in her eye. As she spoke, she hopped slightly towards him, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. She knew the subtle jiggle of her breasts would breaking him out of his own thoughts.

His eyes flickered with amusement as he watched her. He knew exactly what she was doing, but he had yet to decide whether he’d let her.

"Or I could also pack nothing, see how it goes," she teased, a coy smile playing on her lips as she watched him for a reaction. But still, he remained silent. She sighed softly, her gaze boring into his, searching for any sign of emotion.

“Alright, nevermind,” she remarked with a smirk, turning towards the door with a playful sway of her hips, “I'll get my ski jacket I guess."

But before she could take another step, he seized her waist, pulling her towards him with a playful yet possessive hold. With a delighted squeal, she found herself tumbling onto the bed, his weight pressing against hers as they dissolved into laughter.

They’d spent that night, staring at the ceiling, sheets sticking to their skin.

They’d planned every detail. No staff, no schedule, nothing but the two of them. Some blues records playing as they would cruise down the boulevard in his used little bullet car. For once, they would’ve made the rules as they went, answered to no one but each other.

Of course they had never actually gone through with it. It would have been a logistical nightmare, anyway.

It had been good, though. Dreaming their life away, if only for a night.

However, YN did end up having a honeymoon of her own. And a real one, no less. With the lover suite, bottomless champagne, and chocolate strawberries.

And what had Jake gotten as a party favor? Blues, bruises, and booze - a trifecta of regret that served as a cruel reminder of his own shortcomings.

Perhaps he really had always been Mr. Born-to-Lose.

--

--

The soft hum of the engine filled the air as YN stared out the window of the sleek black car, watching the vibrant cityscape of London blur past. Her fingers tapped nervously against the leather seat, a restless energy coursing through her veins.

She glanced at Harry, who sat beside her, his profile bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. He looked content, his eyes fixed on the bustling streets outside, oblivious to the storm raging within her heart. She envied his serenity, his ability to live in the moment without the weight of the past dragging him down.

The car came to a stop outside a stately townhouse. As she stepped out of the car, YN was greeted by the flurry of activity that accompanied their arrival. Moving vans lined the street, bustling with movers and assistants carrying boxes and furniture into the house.

The press, too, had caught wind of their return, eager for a glimpse of the newlyweds as they embarked on the next chapter of their lives. She was quickly ushered inside and away from the paparazzi.

Lost in thought, YN wandered through the rooms, her footsteps echoing in the empty space. Each corner held a memory waiting to be made, a canvas upon which her new life with Harry would unfold.  Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered beneath the surface, a longing for something she couldn't quite name.

As she reached the grand windows overlooking the bustling streets of London, the weight of reality settled in her chest like a leaden anchor.

The honeymoon truly had come to an end.

__ Next Track: Happier than Ever

Extended Masterpost

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Style

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: mix of sort of angst, sort of hurt, sort of fluff idk, ex!Jake

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Previous track : Secrets from a Girl

Chapter soundtrack : Style – Taylor Swift You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt, And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt, And when we go crashing down, we come back every time, 'Cause we never go out of style.

--

Laughter filled the air as friends and industry colleagues toasted to Danny's happiness and success. The drummer's 25th birthday party was an intimate affair, tucked away in a bar on the outskirts of LA. Greta Van Fleet just happened to be in California at the time which meant, to everyone’s delight, that YN could attend the celebration.

"Holy shit, I'm so fucking hammered," Josh declared as he plopped down onto the seat beside YN, the pulsating beat of the music reverberating through the air.

A soft chuckle escaped YN's lips. "Might be time to lay off the melon liquor, babe," she teased, casting a playful glance in Josh's direction.

Josh leaned in, feigning despair as he buried his head in her cleavage. "If drinking fruity little drinks is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.”

“Fine,” she laughed, shoving him off, “but don’t come ask me to pull your hair back later.”

"Well, you're one to talk," A voice interjected. They both looked up to see Jake approaching. “I’m pretty sure your breath could power up a tank right now, YN” he smirked.

"And yet here you are, Jacob" she retorted, shooting him a playful grin as she eyed the drink he’d gotten her, “my bartender in shining armor”.

"What can I say? Can't let a girl die of thirst," Jake shrugged casually. "Uh-uh,” he shook his head, holding the glass just out of her reach, “first… would you look at that!" he exclaimed, pulling a glass of water from behind his back.

"That better be tequila in there, Jacob," YN said, eyeing the clear liquid warily.

"Drink up, superstar," Jake insisted, his tone teasing yet firm.

As she reluctantly grabbed the water and downed it, Josh chimed in with a question. "So, why'd you say Harry couldn’t come, again?"

"Prettyboy is shooting a perfume ad somewhere in Tuscany," Jake replied before YN could, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Jealous, Kiszka?" YN teased, raising an eyebrow playfully, “But yes, that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow, we’ll do New Year’s there.”

“Aw, a New Year’s kiss with your new lover, how adorable,” Josh teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he and Jake visibly gagged.

"Bitterness is an ugly look, you know?" YN retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Suddenly, Sam's booming voice cut through the din of the party, calling out to YN from atop the bar. It was a familiar sight – it wasn't really a party until Sam was up on the bar, urging others to join him in his revelry. “Come on up!” he shouted, holding out his hand.

“Not in a million years, Sammy,” she yelled back over the music.

The youngest Kiszka’s eyes widened in mock disappointment, “You used to be fun, you know?”

YN scoffed. But before she could respond, Jake interjected with a smirk, “She’s a good girl now, haven’t you heard?”

YN turned to the guitarist, her expression a mix of amusement and surprise at his teasing. “Am I, really?” she countered playfully, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Alright, give me a boost,” she relented, allowing Jake to grab her waist and hoist her up onto the bar with unexpected strength.

“There we go,” Sam declared, immediately pulling her into a twirl as she laughed.

“YN, sweetheart, that is an awfully short skirt you’ve got there,” Josh chimed in mock-shock, clutching his pearls for added effect.

“Well, keep your head down, then, perverts,” YN shot back with a grin, as she looked down. She met Jake’s gaze, who raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” he interjected teasingly. She rolled her eyes at his comment, but a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Amidst the vibrant energy of the party, Jake found himself caught in a moment of quiet observation. His gaze softened as it lingered on YN's figure, admiring the way she effortlessly commanded the attention of those around her.

Josh, ever perceptive, caught the momentary lapse in Jake's usually composed demeanor. He observed the subtle softening of his brother's features as his stared at the girl he used to have and hold.

Sensing Josh's scrutiny, Jake shifted uncomfortably, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he realized he had been caught. With a playful smirk, Josh raised a knowing eyebrow.

The guitarist's response was swift and dismissive, a pointed retort to deflect Josh's silent observation.

"Shut up."

--

"Oh, come on, stay a little longer,” Josh pleaded with a playful grin as YN slipped on her coat, “it's barely past midnight."

"I told you I have an early flight," YN replied with a regretful smile.

"Party-pooper," Sam nudged her.

As she reached for her phone, Jake approached her. "How are you getting home?" he inquired.

"I'll just get a cab," YN responded.

"No, let me give you a ride," Jake offered, his tone firm yet gentle, “I’m the designated driver, anyway.”

YN opened her mouth to protest, but Jake raised a hand to silence her, “I'm not letting you get in some random cab in this state," he asserted, his gaze unwavering.

She relented eventually, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she yielded to his insistence.

But as she moved to bid her farewells and make her exit, Danny's voice cut through the air, his arms wrapping around her in a brief embrace. “Are you sure you have to go?” he pouted in playful desperation, “Italy’s not going anywhere.”

"Sorry, babe” she mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to the drummer's cheek, “Happy Birthday."

YN blew kisses to everyone else in the room and, with a final wave, she turned towards the door. Her steps faltered slightly as Jake's hand closed around her arm, halting her in her tracks.

"Stay here," he instructed, "I'll go get the car. You'll catch your death with that skirt."

YN waited inside, her mind swimming with a heady mixture of alcohol-induced thoughts. She couldn't help but think of the way Jake had looked in the dim light of the bar, his rugged features softened by the glow of the party lights.

Moments later, the sound of a car pulling up outside snapped her back to reality, and she made her way out to find Jake waiting by the driver's side, a chivalrous smile gracing his lips.

"Madam," he greeted her with mock formality, opening the car door and extending a hand to help her inside.

"Remind me to give you a tip," she chuckled as she settled into the car, the warmth of his hand lingering on hers.

Jake made sure YN was nice and buckled up, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he ensured her safety.

Thoughts of the past and the uncertain future crossed his mind. Long drives like these once had a tendency to either end in burning flames or paradise. There had seldom been an in-between for the two of them.

--

After a while of playful arguing over the GPS setting, the air conditioning, and the radio channel, they finally settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the music filling the car.

Jake couldn't help but steal glances at her as they drove, his wild eyes flickering from the road to her. She caught his gaze.

 "Take a photo," she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “it'll last longer.”

"Can't blame me," he quipped back with a smirk, "It's been a while since I've gotten you to myself."

"Well, to be fair," she retorted, her tone light yet tinged with a hint of underlying seriousness, "It's been a while since I've heard from you."

Jake sighed knowingly. They both knew they should do more to stay in touch, but life always seemed to get in the way. Despite the easy banter, there was a subtle tension lingering between them, unspoken words and unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the air.

"So, how's the next album coming along?" he broke the silence, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject.

She didn’t reply, instead turning up the volume to avoid his question. Only, the subtle sadness lingering in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Not good, apparently.

"Come on,” he persisted, his tone lightening as he tried to cheer her up, “I'm sure you must have something cooking for your new muse."

She giggled at his playful mockery of her recent romantic endeavors. The sound was like music to his ears.

“Here, I’ll help you out,” he cleared his throat. "His eyes green as English grass, and boy, did you see that ass?" he mockingly sang over the music, his voice going in and out of tune.

She chuckled at his attempt at lightening the mood, turning the volume up even higher to drown out his voice.

"Boybands may be a bit crummy," he continued even louder, reveling in seeing her smile again, "but you know he's giving me the one D."

"You're an idiot," she laughed, shaking her head affectionately.

--

As the GPS finally announced their impending arrival, YN suddenly spoke. "Wait, turn there instead" she instructed.

Jake glanced at her, his brows furrowing in confusion as he followed her gaze to the upcoming turn. What was she up to now?

Before he could voice his question, she continued, her words taking on a playful tone, "You love that song."

She quickly reached out to turn up the radio and open the car roof, allowing the cool night air to rush in and tousle her hair. The wind whipped around her, sending tendrils of hair cascading over her shoulders as she swayed to the music beneath the open sky, her movements fluid and effortless.

Fuck. He did love that song.

As he watched her, a surge of something pulsed through him, igniting a fire that had long lain dormant within his soul.

In that moment, as the world faded away and all that remained was the two of them and the music, Jake knew one thing for certain:

They would never go out of style.

--

The car eventually came to a smooth stop and they both stepped out onto the quiet street. The night air was cool against their skin as he walked her to the door.

"I should get going," Jake murmured as he glanced back to the car.

YN's lips curved into a playful smirk, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes as she drunkenly leaned against the doorframe. She knew deep down she should tell him to leave, but in that moment, with the warmth of alcohol coursing through her veins, she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"Don't you want to take a peek?" she teased; her voice laced with playful invitation. Jake had yet to see her new place. “I did promise you a tip,” she added.

She knew she was playing a dangerous game.

The guitarist looked hesitant. He, too, knew too well where such things often led.

"Do you really need me to tuck you in?" he asked.

"Come on," she insisted with a smirk as she stood on her tiptoes, “I've got choccy milk in the fridge," she murmured in his ear.

Jake couldn't help but chuckle at her antics, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a reluctant smile. He could never say no to her.

--

He stood by, patiently, as YN drunkenly fumbled with her set of keys. With a triumphant click, she finally managed to unlock the door.

Together, they walked into the cozy confines of her home. She made a beeline for the light switch, her movements slightly unsteady, while Jake shrugged off his jacket.

"So, this is your new place," Jake remarked as he took in the surroundings. It wasn't extravagant, but it was quintessentially LA, with sleek furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

YN hummed in agreement. “Make yourself at home,” she said, a contented smile gracing her lips as she disappeared into another room. Left to his own devices, Jake settled onto the plush leather sofa.

Moments later, YN returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Jake's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"No chocolate milk?" he gasped in mock offense, his tone laced with feigned disappointment. "Can't believe I've been tricked into coming in under false pretenses."

"I know, right?" YN replied with a chuckle as she poured the wine, “You’ve got to be more careful.”

Jake's expression softened, a hint of concern flickering in his gaze as he studied YN's flushed cheeks and slightly unfocused eyes. "Don't you think you've had enough for tonight?" he asked gently.

But YN simply brushed off his concern with a dismissive wave of her hand. With a playful giggle, she extended a glass of wine towards Jake.

"I'm good, thanks” he said. Their gazes met in a quiet exchange. A silent acknowledgment of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. Jake couldn’t indulge if he wanted to drive back. And he had to drive back eventually… right?

YN said nothing in response. She simply nodded and kept the glass to herself. But there was something in her gaze as she took a sip. A mix of appreciation, respect, and something else that Jake couldn’t quite make out.

Truth be told, it was disappointment that lingered in her eyes. Who she was disappointed in, though, was a different question altogether.

"Mind if I light up?" Jake broke the silence.

YN nodded in approval, and he pulled out some rolling paper and tobacco from his pocket.

 She watched from beneath hooded lashes as Jake skillfully rolled the cigarette, his fingers moving with practiced precision, her knees pressing together involuntarily when his tongue dragged against the rolling paper.

With a flick of his lighter, the tip of the cigarette glowed cherry red as Jake took a long drag, smoke curling lazily into the air. YN couldn't help but inhale deeply, the familiar scent stirring memories buried in her flesh.

He held out the cigarette to her, a silent invitation.

She shook her head, a wry smile playing on her lips. She’d been avoiding smoking to preserve her voice. Besides, Harry disliked the smell.

Right, Harry. Harry disliked the smell.

"I'm a good girl now, haven't you heard?" she said in playful defiance.

"Are you, really?" he countered, a low murmur that sent a shiver down YN's spine, before placing the cigarette back between his lips.

She chuckled softly and stepped forward. With a gentle touch, she plucked the cigarette from his lips, her fingertips brushing against his skin ever so softly.

He watched, mesmerized, as she brought the cigarette to her lips, her red lipstick leaving a smudge of crimson upon the filter. Jake clenched his jaw, something primal stirring deep within him.

The smoke filled her lungs, swirling around her like a lover's embrace. Heady and intoxicating.

She settled on the sofa beside him, their thighs brushing in a tantalizing caress. With a soft sigh, she leaned back against the cushions, her breathing slowing as she fought the creeping pull of sleep.

“Alright,” YN began, blowing out some smoke, “you know all about me and Harry.” his heart skipped a beat as reality hit him like a cold shower. Jesus fucking Christ. He’d almost believed it.

 “So, tell me about you” she continued, a playful glint dancing in her eyes, “I heard you’ve been out and about with some girl.”

He didn't reply immediately, instead reclaiming the cigarette from her fingers and taking a slow drag.

"It's not true?" she pressed, curiosity evident in the tilt of her head.

"No, it's true," he admitted with a nonchalant shrug, flicking ash into the nearby ashtray. His mind briefly wandered to the random girls he'd been seeing, or rather just fucking – a decent distraction when the quiet of the night got too loud.

"A couple of them," he added, his gaze focused intently on the glowing ember of the cigarette between his fingers.

She giggled softly. "Not keen on being tied down, Kiszka?"

He sighed. “Not in a while, no.”

Her smile faded slightly as she met his gaze. She’d been the only exception.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared history lingering in the air. YN leaned on her side, her blinking slow and heavy.

"I think about it sometimes, you know?" Jake broke the silence, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "You and I, I mean."

YN's nod was barely discernible. "I get that," she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy, "I've been there too, a few times."

Jake couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in the pit of his stomach at her words. He wasn't accustomed to speaking about such matters sober.

After a moment of reflective silence, Jake leaned forward to extinguish the cigarette, the ember fizzling out with a faint hiss. As he did, he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wonder where we’d be now, had things been different." His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken longing and regret.

"You know what I mean?" Jake's voice trailed off into a whisper as he finally turned back to YN, only to find she had drifted off to sleep against the cushion, the soft rhythm of her breathing now filling the room.

A faint smile played on Jake's lips as he watched her peaceful features. He was almost grateful for the wine induced coma. It had perhaps been a sign from the universe, stopping him from going any further. Saying something they’d both regret.

With a tender brush of his fingertips against her cheek, Jake whispered softly into the stillness of the night, "Sweet dreams, superstar."

--

As the early morning light filtered through the windows, YN stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open to the unwelcome sound of an alarm she hadn't set.

Confusion washed over her as she realized she was lying on top of her bed, a warm blanket draped over her form.

She sat up with a groan, her head throbbing from the remnants of the previous night's indulgence. Rubbing the remnants of sleep she found that her makeup had been removed, leaving her face bare, yet she was still fully clothed in the outfit she had worn the night before.

YN sighed, slowly recalling the previous night’s events.

Jake.

She wondered when he’d left. She didn’t even remember falling asleep.

As she stepped out of the shower and began to get ready for the airport, her phone buzzed. It was from Danny, thanking her for the previous night and attaching a treasure trove of photos capturing the festivities.

Still wrapped in her towel, YN scrolled through the myriad of pictures she’s been sent. Sam and Josh's antics filled the screen – dancing, laughing, and inevitably ending up face down on the floor. Danny's face, alight with joy as he blew out the candles on his birthday cake, was a heartwarming sight, even with his hair and face smudged with vanilla icing.

Her scrolling halted abruptly when she came upon a photo of her and Jake.

In the dim glow of the party lights, they sat side by side, lost in conversation. Her head was thrown back in laughter, eyes shining with unbridled joy. Jake, his expression softened by a rare smile, looked at her with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine.

YN stared at the photo, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.

Yeah.

Looks were overrated.

But God knows these two would never go out of style.

Next Track : The Way I loved You

Extended Masterpost

OK TIME TO BE HONEST THIS IS VERY MUCH A FILLER CHAPTER, BUT I REALLY WANTED YN TO RELEASE A SONG CALLED “STYLE” BECAUSE I MEAN COME ON THE ABSOLUTE AUDACITY OF THAT GIRL

Anyway, hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Guess the title of the next chapter I'll post.

Edit by yours truly 🙃

(Let's just say he's got that James Dean daydream look in his eye..)

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

do you have like a set schedule for when you post or is it just randomly? i just finished reading all of the chapters you had put out and can’t help being greedy for more!

Thank you that is so sweet!

Haha, no sadly I don't have a set schedule, for now I'm just trying to write chapters when the motivation strikes (hence why it's in such a state of disarray, because I essentially post whenever I'm done writing, whichever chapter it may be). I can say, though, that I will post two or three more chapters this week.

I'm trying really hard to finish the albums Long&Lost and St Jude. And then I think I'll try to start at the very beginning, with the first few albums, and force myself to both write and post chronologically, so that it's less confusing and you finally get to know how and why things blossomed and fell apart in the first place.

Thank you so much for interacting!!

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

i’m just curious about the story. like how am i supposed to read the chapters, is their a certain way or do i just read them however i want. Ive read like 3 chapters and they were kinda out of order so im a little confused. Don’t get me wrong they were all good and i love everything about them. i’m just wondering if there’s a certain way to read it or not.

I know it's confusing, sorry. Basically, you can read it however you want, but I advise referring to the Extended Masterpost to find your way around the story. That's where I try to make sense of it all. Most of the story hasn't been written or posted yet, but the masterpost should give you an idea of who when what and where, because it gives you the big picture and chapters are listed chronologically.

If you have any, more specific question, don't hesitate!

Thanks for interacting xxx

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

All this and Heaven Too

Masterlist

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: Trying to navigate your relationship with an ex is tough. It gets a little tougher when said ex brings a date to your mutual friends’ wedding.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Chapter soundtrack : All this and Heaven Too – Florence + the Machine

And the heart is hard to translate, It has a language of its own. It talks in tongues and quiet sighs, In prayers and proclamations, In the grand deeds of great men, And the smallest of gestures, In short shallow gasps.

The clicking of Y/N’s heels against the marble floor resonated throughout the hall, as she hurried towards the bridal dressing room and gave it a gentle knock. A wave of excitement washed over her when she opened the door. Before her stood her friend Briley, looking nothing short of exquisite in her wedding gown, the soft, ivory lace cascading around her like a waterfall.

"Knock, knock," Y/N smiled, her voice filled with awe as she stepped further into the room. She was greeted by the cheers of the other bridesmaids.

“Gosh, we thought you’d never get here” Briley sighed in relief as Y/N engulfed her in a hug.

"I know, sorry, my flight was delayed. Jesus, you look incredible," Y/N couldn't help but exclaim, her admiration spilling out in a breathless whisper. "Marcus is going to go crazy."

Briley's eyes twinkled with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Is he okay?" she asked, her smile slightly trembling.

"No idea," Y/N replied, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "I just got here and figured I'd come see you first."

 The bride reached out and gently grabbed Y/N's forearm, her touch grounding and comforting. "You're the best," she whispered, gratitude filling her voice.

"So,” with a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N leaned in closer to her friend, "no cold feet, I hope?"

 Briley laughed, “are you kidding? A flipping hurricane couldn’t stop me from getting them vows out.”

"Good," Y/N replied with a smile.

Suddenly the dressing room door creaked open, revealing the imposing presence of Marcus’s mother. Her demeanor, stern and strict, as per usual. "Mrs. King, how lovely to see you," Y/N greeted her respectfully.

The older woman glanced at her watch, her tone holding a hint of impatience. "It's good to see you too, Y/N. I see punctuality still isn't your strong suit."

 Y/N chuckled softly, not taking the comment to heart. "I'm afraid so."

The woman approached her daughter-in-law before turning her attention to the bridesmaids, "You girls should go join the rest of the wedding party, the ceremony will begin soon."

 "Yes, ma'am," Y/N replied, her tone respectful, and turned back to the bride. " We'll see you on the other side,” she paused, “don’t trip.”

Briley couldn't help but roll her eyes, as she watched Y/N and the other bridesmaids head towards the door.

________

Y/N's entrance sent ripples of excitement through the room. She strutted into the space where the rest of the wedding party had gathered, and her eyes lit up as she saw the Greta boys looking over at her. Each of them looked dashing in their tailored suits and polished dress shoes.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Y/N's voice rang out, filled with the joy of reunion. Warm smiles greeted her, and she was engulfed in a flurry of hugs.

"Well, it's about time," the groom, quipped with a playful grin.

"Sorry Marcus, I was with the bride," Y/N replied, "Bridesmaid duty, you know how it goes."

 Marcus's nervousness momentarily slipped through as he asked, "Is she all good?"

Y/N's reassurance was swift and heartfelt. "She's perfect," she replied warmly. "And may I say, you look quite sharp, yourself," she playfully ruffled his nerves.

The wedding planner’s assistant strode towards the group with all the flair of a secret agent. His earpiece buzzed with activity, and the tablet clutched in his hand held the secrets to the day's events.

"Alright, everybody," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the room as he mentally took attendance. "It's almost time, we-" a sudden realization struck him, causing a momentary pause. "Hold up a minute. Are we missing a groomsman?" he asked, sweat already making his forehead glisten. An air of perplexed impatience settled among the group.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sam muttered under his breath, casting a worried glance at his watch.

 "He said he was on his way an hour ago,” Danny stated, his brows furrowing with concern as he looked down at his phone.

The room seemed to hold its breath. But just as tension began to mount, the missing man burst through the doors. His steps were slightly hurried, perhaps a bit out of breath, but he still managed to maintain his impeccable appearance in his well-fitted suit. "I'm here, I'm here!" Jake announced, his voice a mix of apology and relief.

 He wasted no time in hugging Marcus quickly, who conveyed annoyance and relief simultaneously. "I know," he cut off the groom's impending scolding. "I'm sorry, man, traffic was a bitch." With those words, he excused himself to head inside the venue. "I'll be right back," he muttered.

As Jake moved away, no one could help but notice someone walking by his side. An awkward silence descended upon the group.

"So," Y/N spoke up, her expression blank as they all observed the unfolding scene; a lovely young woman being gently guided to one of the pews by none other than her ex-boyfriend. "Jake brought a date."

_________

Sam, standing nearby, couldn't help but look surprised. "You didn't know?"

Y/N's annoyance was palpable as she replied, "Well, how on earth would I know if none of you guys told me? It's not like he and I stay up every night chatting on the phone."

Danny, always the peacemaker, offered a conciliatory comment. "Sorry, we didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with frustration, “I just—a heads-up would've been nice." Her gaze shifted to the floor and the conversation resumed.

Josh, sensing her posture, eventually nudged her, "You, okay?" Y/N looked up, her sulking expression fading.

 "Of course,” she nodded. After all, he knew he’d been seeing new people, and they had broken up a long time ago. “I just- kind of wish I'd brought a date now," she admitted with a playful pout.

Sam, always ready to be the gallant one, seized the opportunity. "Well, it seems like Ella stood me up, anyway. I'll be your date, Milady," he bowed theatrically.

Y/N's eyebrows raised in amusement. "Oh, sure, a pity date,” she replied, her tone dripping with irony, “now that doesn't make me feel pathetic."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a total catch," Sam declared with mock indignation. Before the banter could continue, a member of security entered the room.

"There's some girl at the entrance saying she's Samuel Kiszka’s plus one. Name's Emma, but she's not on the list."

 "Emma?" Sam echoed, a hint of confusion in his tone. "I could've sworn her name was Ella. Anyway, yeah, let her in, my good man."

"Huh?” Y/N interrupted the exchange, her voice tinged with curiosity, “What happened to you being my date?"

Sam grinned playfully, his ego momentarily unchecked. "Well, I can't help it that I'm so popular among the ladies."

"You—" Y/N began, but her words were abruptly cut off by Marcus, who had decided to intervene.

 "Alright,” the groom stated firmly, “not happening. I love you man, but I'm not having one of your random flings in my wedding pictures."

"She's not a fling," the youngest Kiszka defended himself, his tone dramatic as ever. "I'll have you know we shared a very special weekend in Vegas, and Ella may just-."

"Emma," Danny corrected with a cough and a sly smile.

 "Emma," Sam repeated, his eyes closing in frustration, knowing he had just undermined his entire point, "Emma may just be the love of my life, for all you know," he tried recovering, as Y/N offered a knowing smile.

"Sure, Samuel." Marcus turned to the security guard, "do not let that girl in." A brief pause followed, a moment of uncertainty hanging in the air.

Then, through a window, they all saw it—a girl, wearing a scandalous feathery dress, was being dragged away by security. Her screams filled the air, creating a chaotic scene that sharply contrasted with the elegant ambiance of the venue.

 Everyone in the room turned to look at Sam, their expressions a mix of amusement and resigned familiarity. He did have a reputation for attracting unconventional partners, and this time was no different.

 "What?" Sam asked, adopting an innocent expression as he met their gazes. "I said I was popular, not that I had good taste."

_________

 "Alright, everyone, please get in position," The assistant’s voice interrupted the prevailing silence. He strode forward, his sweeping hands guiding the wedding party into formation. "Every groomsman, stand next to your bridesmaid." Everyone complied without hesitation, aligning themselves into a neat line, with Josh standing right beside Y/N.

Amidst the anticipation, Y/N broke the silence, her voice a hushed whisper. "So," she began, her gaze fixed on the approaching ceremony, "how long have they been together?" Josh, momentarily taken aback by the question, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Huh?" he asked, his attention now on Y/N.

"Jake and his date," Y/N clarified, her curiosity piqued.

 Josh offered a shrug, "I'm not sure, actually" he admitted with a thoughtful expression. "It's probably not too serious, though." Their conversation was almost immediately derailed by Sam speaking out from behind them.

 "I mean," the youngest Kiszka began, "he did bring her to the wedding so—ouch!" Josh had swiftly stepped back on Sam's foot, effectively cutting off any further discussion. A deadly glare followed to emphasize his point; the action accompanied by a reassuring squeeze of Y/N's arm. It was an unconscious gesture, a silent message of comfort passing between friends.

 Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Josh's protective antics. "Oh my," she remarked, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Will you cut it out? I'm fine. It's good to see we’ve both moved on. It's great, in fact. I was just surprised."

Just as Y/N spoke, Jake walked back from the pews area, moving with a sense of purpose. He positioned himself right in front of the pair, standing beside his assigned bridesmaid.

"Hey," he greeted Y/N with a slight nod, his voice rough yet friendly.

"Hi," Y/N replied in a shy breath.

The planner seized the moment of silence to regain control of the situation. "Alright, everybody," he announced with authority, "it's time." His words echoed with a sense of urgency. "Groom and best man, let's get you to the altar." He quickly herded Marcus and his manager into the venue, ensuring they were on their way. Turning his attention back to the wedding party, he continued, "As for the wedding party, every groomsman stick to his bridesmaid. And please remember, Mrs. King will have my head if the pictures aren't perfect, so look alive, people. This isn't a wake."

The anticipation in the room was palpable as the wedding party prepared for the beginning of the ceremony.

 Josh couldn't resist a teasing comment as he noticed Y/N's towering heels. "Gee, could your heels be any higher? I look like an imp next to you."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "You're still taller than me."

"By like, half an inch," He replied and paused briefly before adding with a slight grin, "Maybe you could switch with this- delightful young woman over here." His eyes playfully lingered on Jake's assigned bridesmaid, suggesting mischief.

Y/N immediately tensed, perfectly manicure nails painfully clutching Josh’s bicep, as she harshly whispered, "say another word, and I swear you'll get my very high heels somewhere you do not want them, Kiszka."

“Message received,” he mumbled with a pained smirk.

As the string quartet began to play, the hauntingly beautiful melody filled the air, and the grand doors leading into the venue swung open.

__________

The ceremony unfolded flawlessly. Each word of the heartfelt vows exchanged between Marcus and Briley resonated throughout the venue and not a dry eye could be found among the guests. With their union sealed, the wedding party and guests joyfully made their way to the reception venue.

The place was a sight to behold, a testament to the couple’s taste for opulence. The reception was a true midwestern affair. Tables were adorned with lavish floral arrangements and silverware arranged with meticulous precision. The dance floor in the center beckoned to those eager to celebrate. The overall atmosphere exuded abundance.

As the evening progressed, the planning continued to impress. The servers moved gracefully between tables, ensuring that every guest's wine glass remained filled.

The hall buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests mingled under the soft glow of the evening. Danny, usually the epitome of discreetness, found himself sharing a string of hilarious anecdotes about Marcus from the early days, leaving his entire table in stitches, laughter echoing through the room. As for Josh, forever the life of the party, he was busy orchestrating an impromptu show with a couple of bridesmaids, his infectious energy pulling everyone onto the dance floor.

 Y/N was seated elegantly at her table, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she watched the guests sway to the rhythmic tunes on the dance floor. A soft smile played at the corners of her lips as she soaked in the joyous atmosphere. The room itself seemed to shimmer with the soft glow of chandeliers, casting a warm ambiance that complemented the evening.

Her reverie was abruptly interrupted as the ever-so-vigilant wedding planner’s assistant, stormed towards her. He was an arrow of energy and efficiency in his mission. "Ah, wonderful, just the one I was looking for," he declared with a commanding presence. "Come on, up! Up! Up! It's time for some slow dancing photos."

Y/N shifted in her seat, "Oh, sure, my date is- uh... " she began, her gaze sweeping across the room only to find Sam missing, “somewhere in this building?"

The undeterred planner reassured her, "It's alright, we'll find you a groomsman to dance with in the blink of an eye." His keen eyes scanned the room before he called out, “Jacob! Come over here!"

Y/N's nerves crept in as her ex, a couple of tables away, turned to look their way. She tried to dissuade the man, her voice wavering slightly. "Oh, I really don't think that's necessary."

He brushed off her concerns. "Nonsense," he insisted, calling out some more. "Jacob! Y/N here is in need of a partner. I'm sure you—"

"I must insist," Y/N interjected with a tight smile. She subtly grabbed the man's arm, attempting to convey the urgency of the situation.

 "I'm sorry, Miss Y/N," he explained, his voice carrying a note of urgency as Jake reached her table, "but Mrs. King told me I would burn in the deepest pit of hell if the pictures were any less than perfect." He shrugged helplessly. "Now, I'm not an idiot. I know Mrs. King doesn't actually control who does and doesn't burn in hell, but…" Y/N followed his gaze, their eyes settling on Marcus’s mother, the imposing figure overseeing the reception with a serious expression on her face.

"There is something about those eyes, isn't there?" Y/N mused, her voice tinged with wry humor.

Sighing in resignation, Jake held out his hand to his YN. "Come on," he said with a hint of amusement, their eyes finally meeting, "we wouldn't want to be responsible for the poor man's eternal damnation, would we?"

A discreet smirk tugged at Y/N's lips as she accepted his hand. Jake wasn’t much of a public dancer. Back in the day she would always have to beg for him to join her on the dance floor. If only she’d known all they had to do was break up for him to suddenly be chill about it.

 Rising to her feet, she looked back at the poor assistant, who was pressing his hands together, silently mouthing a 'thank you.' Jake's hand settled firmly on the small of her back and they walked towards the crowd of dancers.

The dance floor beckoned, bathed in the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights. As Jake and Y/N swayed to the soft, melodic rhythm, the world around them seemed to fade into the background.

Dancing with each other felt oddly familiar, like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes. Yet, their eyes didn't meet, and not a word was exchanged between them. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken memories.

Jake’s low voice finally broke the heavy silence, "You look great."

 Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. "Thanks," she said glancing down, a soft shade of red coloring her cheeks. His discreet smirk didn't go unnoticed. It was clear that, even after everything, he still had the power to affect her. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she managed to respond.

Silence enveloped them once more and before she could stop herself, more words tumbled out, "your date looks cute too."

The uneasiness in Jake's body was palpable as he visibly tensed. He let out a sigh, his voice laced with uncertainty, "Yeah, sorry about that. I just... I didn't know whether you'd—"

"Hey," Y/N interrupted gently, her shy smile returning, "No need to apologize. I was just teasing.” They continued to dance in silence, but Y/N couldn't bear it for long. Understanding the discomfort she had caused, she tried to ease the tension. "She really does though... look cute, I mean," she ventured, her voice carrying a subtle hint of mischief. Her words hung in the air, met with a resounding silence that made the pair uncomfortable, she carried on “H-how long have-”

 “Can we not- do this?” he cut her off, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. He cleared his throat and glanced away. His unease was evident. "I just- I’d rather not talk about that," he finally admitted, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability.

Understanding his discomfort, Y/N nodded in agreement.

 Before she could utter another word, the song came to an end. Jake, with an air of finality, let go of her waist and hand.

She opened her mouth to say something more, a fleeting thought on her lips, but he beat her to it.

"Song's over," he declared abruptly, his voice firm, before stepping away from her.

Y/N was left standing in the middle of the dancefloor, momentarily dumbfounded, as the music faded into the background, carrying with it the unspoken emotions that still lingered between them.

-----------

After the awkward encounter on the dance floor, Y/N returned to her table with a heavy heart. She sought solace in the crystal-clear flute of champagne that sat on the table. Her delicate fingers clutched the slender stem as she took a generous sip, the effervescence of the bubbly liquid offering her a momentary escape.

 The party around her was still in full swing, the rhythm of laughter and music filling the air. Y/N couldn't help but join in the celebration, allowing herself to be swept up in the festivities. She let Josh drag her back to the dance floor and their laughter resonated everywhere as they twirled and spun. She also shared moments with Marcus and Briley, showering her old friends with well-wishes and heartfelt congratulations.

 Despite the lingering discomfort from her encounter with Jake, Y/N was determined to make the most of the evening. However, as the night wore on and the champagne continued to flow, Y/N found herself needing a moment alone.

She excused herself, navigating her way through the jubilant crowd, and headed towards the bathroom.

 She stood before the mirror of the lavishly adorned restroom, gazing at her reflection with a hint of weariness in her eyes. Her makeup needed refreshing.

 Just as she was putting finishing touches of lipstick, she heard the soft sound of running water. Turning slightly, she noticed a figure standing at the sink out of the corner of her eye.

 It was Jake's date, washing her hands with a composed demeanor. This unexpected encounter brought with it an unspoken discomfort. Y/N's heart raced as she pondered whether to acknowledge the girl’s presence or simply continue with her own preparations. The dimly lit bathroom seemed to shrink around them.

As their eyes finally met in the mirror, Y/N had no choice but to try and make the encounter less awkward. "You're fine, don't worry,” Y/N assured, offering a reassuring smile, “just because you're here with Jake doesn't mean I'm planning your assassination."

A faint smile flickered across the girl's face, and she muttered a nervous, "Sorry." Y/N noticed a hint of embarrassment and shyness in the girl's demeanor. Her eyes fell on Y/N's purse. "Makeup," she remarked, "smart. I didn't bring any."

Without hesitation, Y/N took a step forward, a hand gently grabbed the girl’s jaw, "here, let me," she offered, applying a touch of her lipstick to her lips. Once she was done, her fingers brushed against the girl's hair, "You're pretty," Y/N complimented sincerely, her voice softening. Curious about the girl, Y/N decided to engage in conversation. "Your name is?"

"Jenna, Miss. Y/L/N," came the girl's response, laden with a sense of formality that seemed out of place in this intimate setting.

Y/N's demeanor shifted, "Honey, you're fucking my ex," she pointed out the obvious, "I think you can call me by my first name."

Jenna's face immediately registered a mix of surprise and embarrassment, her earlier shyness giving way to a sense of unease.

Y/N realized her harsh words had hit harder than intended, and she backtracked hastily, her voice tinged with regret. "Shit, no, wait, I'm... I'm sorry," Y/N stumbled over her words, her gaze sincere. "I've had a few drinks, and it looks like I'm a mean drunk tonight. I'm sure you're a very nice girl, and we'll get along great when I'm sober." She offered a small, apologetic smile, but it was clear the poor girl was turning more red by the second.

“I should probably go back out there.”

As the girl left the bathroom, Y/N glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection seemingly mocking her. She let out a barely audible, self-deprecating whisper, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Just as she contemplated her actions, the sound of a door opening caught her attention. Y/N turned to see Briley emerging from one of the stalls, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Girl," the bride said with a playful shake of her head, her voice carrying a mixture of amusement and sympathy. She approached Y/N and offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Happens to the best of us. Just chalk it up to wedding nerves and champagne."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at her friend's understanding. Briley had always had a way of lightening the mood, even in the most awkward of situations.

"Guess you're right," Y/N admitted with a grateful sigh, "Let's get back out there. No more drama, I promise."

 The bride grinned and linked her arm with Y/N's as they exited the restroom together. With her friend by her side, Y/N felt more determined than ever to put the awkward encounter behind her and make the most of the celebration.

The grand reception hall was a symphony of elegance and opulence as the time came for the highly anticipated wedding toasts. Guests, resplendent in their formal attire, sat around the lavishly adorned tables, their eyes trained on the head table where the newlyweds sat.

Danny, the charismatic best man, took to the microphone with a charming grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "On this very special day, I feel it is my duty to embarrass Marcus," he began, his voice projecting with theatrical flair. “Let me paint you a picture... The year was 2018 and mohawks were all the rage…” He embarked on a captivating storytelling journey. The audience was immediately captivated, and peals of laughter filled the room as they hung on his every word.

Following Danny's entertaining introduction, the baton of toasting passed to the Kiszka groomsmen. The dynamic trio offered a playful yet heartfelt toast with playful grins and raised glasses. "To the bride and groom!" they finished enthusiastically, "may all your ups and downs come only in the bedroom." Their words elicited a chorus of clinking glasses as guests joined in the merriment.

After a few more speeches, the moment arrived for Y/N to take the spotlight. She approached the microphone with grace and poise, her presence commanding the room's attention. With a warm smile, she started her toast, acknowledging the humor of the evening. "Hi, everyone," she began, her voice a melodic cadence that drew everyone in. "I swear this is the last toast you will have to sit through tonight." Her audience chuckled in response to her lighthearted remark, and she continued.

“As the person who introduced these two to each other, I’ve had the privilege to know them both separately, before knowing them together. I’ve witnessed the sneaky glances and the secret pining, the horrible flirting and, yes, the repulsively intense PDA of the early days,” she giggled. “I’ve watched these two fall in love the way a river carves its path through mountains. Slow and steady, always secure, never once changing its course. I’ve watched as they changed each other for the better and, like most of you here tonight, I’ve had the privilege of knowing, as I watch Marcus’s dimples show every time Briley walks in the room, what it is like to truly be in the presence of love.”

"Love-” she exhaled shakily, “is a force of nature," she carried on, her voice rich with emotion. Jake, seated among the guests, couldn't help but feel the weight of her words. His eyes flickered to hers for a brief instant, a silent acknowledgment of the shared history they both knew.

Y/N continued, her gaze unwavering, "It’s not just about the grand gestures or the heart-stopping moments. It's about the small, everyday acts of kindness and understanding that make life together truly special." The room was filled with nods of agreement and quiet murmurs of appreciation. Y/N's words resonated with everyone present, touching their hearts deep.

"It's about the laughter that fills your home," Y/N continued softly, "and the comfort of knowing that you have a partner with whom you can share both your dreams and fears." Her teary gaze unconsciously drifted to meet Jake’s, and in that moment, it was as if the world around them disappeared, leaving only the unspoken connection between them. She blinked a shy tear away, looking back towards the bride and groom, her eyes shimmering with sincerity.

 “So, in this spirit,” she resumed, “I would like to, for the last time tonight, raise a glass to Marcus and Briley and the beautiful adventure they are about to embark upon together," she raised the delicate glass in her hand, “I can think of no two people better prepared for the journey." The guests joined in the toast, their glasses clinking together in celebration. Jake, too, raised his glass, his eyes never leaving Y/N's, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

As Y/N's words faded into the warm embrace of the gathering, the festivities resumed, promising stories yet to be told and memories yet to be made.

___________

The lively wedding celebration continued in full swing. However, amidst the jubilant atmosphere, Jake noticed Y/N's absence and couldn't resist the urge to look for her, against his better judgement.

He knew her well enough to predict where he might find her. He walked towards the balcony and was met with the view of her elegant backless dress. He stepped through the French door, the chill of the night instantly hitting him. "Aren't you freezing out here?" he inquired, his breath forming a faint mist in the cold air.

Y/N, her figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the night, turned to look at him. She held out the snifter glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid within, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I have my new friend, Brandy, to keep me warm," she replied with a wry smile. Jake ambled to the edge of the balcony, his fingers drumming nervously against the balustrade as he sought to break the silence.

"Hey, listen, I, uh—" he began, only his words faltered as he noticed her covering her face, her shoulders trembling. It wasn't clear whether she was crying until a sudden burst of laughter escaped her, echoing through the night. Jake could hardly hide his confusion, "what's so funny?" he asked.

"It's nothing, I'm— I'm sorry," she managed between giggles. "I just-” she caught her breath, “I can't believe they asked us of all people to make a toast at this wedding," she said, wiping her eyes. "I mean, isn't it stupid?" Y/N laughed, her mirth infectious.

 "Yeah," Jake agreed with a chuckle, "I guess it is a bit stupid," suddenly unable to hold back his own nervous laughter any longer.

"I mean, if we had any idea what the key to a long-lasting relationship was, we probably wouldn't be here right now," Y/N continued, holding her sides as she shook with laughter. The pair looked like complete maniacs from afar.

"Anyway," she carried on after a while, her laughter finally subsiding, "shouldn't you be with your date?"

Jake's smile faded slightly as he admitted, "She left early, had a bit of a headache."

Y/N recalled the restroom encounter from earlier, the awkwardness lingering between them. "God, yeah," she said with a nervous chuckle. "That... might be my fault. I sort of—"

"I know,” Jake confessed, his gaze softening, “she told me."

"I'm so sorry," Y/N apologized sincerely, her voice filled with regret. "I honestly don't know what came over me. You know how I can get after a few glasses—"

"It's okay," he reassured her, cutting her off gently. "I should be the one apologizing, really. I was an ass earlier."

"No, I mean— you’re allowed not to want to tell m-" Y/N began, her voice filled with understanding.

 "But I do," Jake continued sincerely, as he looked at her with warmth in his eyes.

“Y-you do?” She asked, surprised.

"I mean, I'm not gonna pretend it'll be easy, but- we were- sort of friends before everything." He looked down, his lips pursed at his own unexpected confession. But it was all true. Losing his girl was one thing, losing his partner was another. “And us not talking doesn’t really seem to be working out so well.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a glimmer of nostalgia in her eyes. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice softening.

"I guess we'll just have to figure things out," Jake said with determination, the tension slowly dissipating. He was right, their friend group was too close-knit and navigating the remaining uneasiness had been way too much. Both knew they would need to put it all behind somehow.

"Right," Y/N agreed, a sense of optimism filling the space between them. "So, tell me, then, what's been going on in Jacob Kiszka's life lately?"

As they continued to converse, the balcony became a haven of shared laughter and excitement. It felt like a slice of their past, reminiscent of the days when they were inseparable. The topics ranged from the mundane to the profound, and for a while, the world outside the balcony ceased to exist.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, the topic of Briley’s pregnancy inevitably arose. Unspoken sorrow lingered in the air. Their eyes met, and for a moment.

"They're gonna be great parents," Y/N said softly, with voice tinged with both happiness and sadness, and a bright smile Jake could see right through.

"They are," he agreed, a mixture of emotions playing in his eyes as they exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken chapters of their intertwined stories looming large between them.

 As Y/N scanned the room from the balcony, her keen eyes locked onto one Sam Kiszka, who was stealthily making his way back towards the reception area after his mysterious absence.

Her lips curled into a sly grin, and there was an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, hell no," she muttered under her breath, her voice growing louder with each word as she stormed back inside. "Samuel Francis Kiszka, don't you dare run away from me!"

Sam, sensing the impending storm of Y/N's wrath, attempted a quick escape, his agility and grace in his finely tailored red suit no match for her determination. Y/N's accusative finger pointed straight at him, and there was no escaping her fury.

"You!" she exclaimed, her tone filled with both indignation and playful annoyance. "You are the worst date on earth! I can't believe you'd disappear on me like that! 'Gallantry's my middle name' my ass!"

Sam, the epitome of charm even in the face of impending retribution, adopted an innocent expression. "Y/N, my darling," he began, his voice dripping with exaggerated sincerity, "don't be mad. It's not my fault I'm irresistible in a suit. I'm like a chick-magnet. I swear, there was virtually nothing I could do!"

"For two hours?" Y/N shot back incredulously. "Couldn't you just have a quickie like a normal person?"

Sam grinned mischievously, his playful banter unwavering. "What can I say? I'm a giver."

"You complete buffoon," Y/N retorted, her annoyance melting into amusement. "You owe me."

"Argh, don't be like that," the tall boy pleaded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, crossing her arms. "Come on, I'll buy you a drink," he winked.

"It's an open bar, Samuel." She answered, flashing a faux-grateful smile.

"Can I perhaps interest you in a tender kiss, then?" he teased, leaning in with a playful pout.

 Rolling her eyes, Y/N gave in with a chuckle. "Ugh, fine, a drink it is."

"Gin Martini?"

"Better make it a double," she warned him.

"Right away, Milady," Sam said with a faux-French accent, "As it pleases Milady, I only live to serve Milady." He walked away, theatrically bowing, and in a moment of poetic justice, he managed to crash into a waiter, causing a cascade of trays to topple precariously. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle before turning back to Jake, who was still out on the balcony.

"You coming?" she called out to him.

 Jake, watching the humorous exchange with an amused smile, shook his head. "I'll catch up with you guys later," he replied, content to remain on the balcony for a while longer, savoring the solitude and the cool night air.

____________

Jake stood there on the balcony, the soft breeze rustling his long hair as he contemplated his unexpected conversation with Y/N. Time seemed to slow down, the minutes stretching into moments of tranquil reflection. Talking to her had been oddly comforting. Despite their tumultuous past and the undeniable fact that their romantic union was over, he couldn't deny the nostalgia that their interaction had stirred within him.

Their messy breakup had served as a painful reminder of irreconcilable differences, but the past year and a half had been an ongoing challenge. Y/N had chosen to stay away, moving to LA the second she got back from tour.

Their careers kept them incredibly busy, but of course they had been bound to see each other again, running into each other at festivals and award shows. Navigating it all had been an awkward dance, each encounter weighed down by unspoken tension.

Yet, as Jake gazed out into the night, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility of a fresh start. He knew it wouldn't be simple. Their journey had been marred by heartache. But as he leaned against the balustrade, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they were turning a corner—a chance to breathe freely in each other's presence, a tentative step toward healing old wounds.

As Jake finally headed back towards the reception hall, lost in his thoughts, he was greeted by a peculiar sound that snapped him back to reality. Boisterous voices grew louder as he approached the hall's entrance. With a mixture of curiosity and bemusement, he stepped through the doors.

Danny, usually composed and collected and cool, was now swaying arm in arm with his girlfriend, the both of them belting out the lyrics to a country song as if their lives depended on it. Their voices wavering in and out of tune, but their enthusiasm infectious.

Turning his attention, Jake spotted Sam, barefoot, in the midst of an impromptu dance battle with a random kid, no older than 12. Danny's tie had somehow found its way around the youngest Kiszka’s forehead, adding a touch of eccentricity to his passionate moves. Jake couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Ah, Samuel.

 Meanwhile, in a corner of the hall, oblivious to the uproarious commotion, Marcus and Brailey were lost in their own little world. Their eyes were locked, and they swayed gently to the music, wrapped up in the bubble of their love. They’re going to be fine, Jake thought.

"Jesus Christ, Josh, keep it PG, will you?" a voice suddenly rang, drawing laughter from those nearby. Jake’s head whipped to the side, only for him to catch sight of none other than his twin brother, perched precariously atop a table, in the midst of an energetic, and wildly too suggestive dance performance. It was clear he had overexerted himself, evidenced by the conspicuous rip in his pants. Y/N was desperately trying to coax him off the table, her hands raised in a plea for him to descend.

Josh’s boyfriend, trying to maintain some semblance of order, added his voice to the mix, his tone half-joking and half-serious. "Joshua, get down- Jo- don’t make me call Mrs. King over, ‘cause I will!" He threatened, eyeing his man's antics with a mix of exasperation and fondness. Jake couldn't help but shake his head, thoroughly entertained by the scene.

 He watched for a moment, wondering if he should intervene. Before he could decide, "Jakey!” Y/N called out to him with a playful smile. “Are you going to help us out, or do I need to beg?"

 Yes, he thought, they were going to be just fine.

Next Track : California

Extended Masterpost

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Now That We Don't Talk

Masterlist

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: idk at this point, sorry. But here’s the jest of it: Breaking up sucks ass.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Previous Track:  Hits Different (coming soon..)

Chapter soundtrack: Now That We Don’t Talk – Taylor Swift

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind) Listen to the song, it's basically the entire chapter, I do not have a creative bone in my body, babes.

Guess this is how it was to be Now that we don't talk

Late at night, Y/N found herself lying on her kitchen floor. She scrolled through her phone, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across her face.

The press had been relentless; capturing glimpses of the lead guitarist of Greta Van Fleet, at various events and gatherings. Well, it was either that or her algorithm was fucked.

She found herself immersed in the snippets of his life presented by the media. His presence, magnetic as ever, effortlessly parting the crowd like the Red Sea in fan edits.

YN, herself hadn’t gone out in a while, choosing to steer clear from the limelight after a couple of nights of binge-drinking had gone more public than she would’ve liked.

Her red eyes captured by flashing lights as she was ushered into a cab by a friend of hers had made the front page for a week. Let’s just say the Sad Girl Era fans had branded her with, wasn’t exactly the kind of publicity she’d wanted out there.

She couldn't help but wonder if he, too, ever got anxious, while on his way home. Did he absentmindedly make a wrong turn towards the street they used to live on? Did he ever, for a fleeting moment, take a hand off the steering wheel to rest it on her thigh, only to find it was no longer there?

Stalking him online had become a guilty indulgence, a masochistic act that she couldn't resist. She lingered a little too long on his Instagram, scrolling through the curated moments of his daily life.

She noticed his hair, even longer than before, framing the features she used to trace with her fingertips. She observed the familiar furrow of his brow as he performed, a guitar pin between his teeth.

From the outside, it all painted a picture of a life moving forward. She remained on the periphery, a quiet observer of the world she used to inhabit. She caught short glimpses of his social life, photos of shared laughs with musicians they once mocked together, videos of studio sessions with a producer he’d once told to fuck off forever.

The bitter truth hung heavy in the air. She no longer had a say in the choices he made, the life he embraced. The silence between them was deafening. She had become an outsider, left outside in the rain, looking through a window at the life of a boy she once knew.

As her mind wandered into the realm of speculation, she couldn't help but wonder what he’d told his friends – those same friends they had once shared dinners and long weekends with. Were they privy to the turbulent love, the passionate highs, and the devastating lows that marked their time together? Few were even aware of their relationship, so would anyone even come to hear of their breakup?

The public was aware she’d moved from Nashville to LA after her latest tour, but only a select few knew why.

She didn’t know what she, herself would choose to say. There was no point in pretending it was platonic. It wasn't some amicable parting where two people decided they were better off as friends. No. Truth was it had just- ended.

She could never be his friend. Can you imagine? She thought. Casually sharing stories over Sunday brunch; smiling for group pictures at birthday parties? She felt ridiculous just thinking about it. After all, they hadn’t been friends to begin with. Not really.

The days and nights stretched endlessly, punctuated by the silence of unsent messages and unspoken calls. Pathetic. That's how she felt. Pathetic for caring, for still being affected by choices that they had made. The more she’d given, the more she laid her heart bare, the less he’d seemed to want her.

A bitter truth gnawed at her consciousness – a realization which had struck her hard, like a sudden gust of cold wind. She was paying the price of what she had lost, and heartbreak didn’t come cheap.

In the quiet hours of the night, phone calls to Patty became a familiar ritual for Y/N, a whispered confessional amid the shadows. Her manager's voice echoed like a guiding beacon in the recesses of her mind.

"Remember, it's all for the best, sugar," Patty would assure her. "Maybe try and get it all off your chest, yeah? You’ll feel better."

Craving the catharsis that only honest introspection could provide, YN eventually heeded the advice. She sat down at the piano and opened her notebook to a crisp white page. Pen in hand, she began to write.

She tried reminding herself of the way he'd faded ‘till she’d left. A distant star dimming until it was barely a shimmer in the night sky. A black hole whose pull she’d barely escaped.

Every stroke of ink presented an attempt to convince herself she was, of course, so much better off now. As it is written, so it shall be done, or some shit like that.

Let’s see. Now that they didn't talk… well, first off, she didn’t have to keep acid rock in her shower playlist. She no longer had to pretend to revel in the company of so-called industry legends on some yachts. No longer found herself forced to feign interest in these obsolete men’s very important thoughts on the death of good music when she’d much rather jump off the deck.

Quite a relief, right? She smiled bitterly. She was a compulsive liar, even in the privacy of her own apartment, in the secrecy of her own thoughts.

Those weren’t the things that she was glad to be rid of. But the unfiltered truth would look too ugly on paper. It would sound too coarse on the radio.

Frustration seeped into her bones, settling like an unwelcome guest. She didn’t know who or what she was even trying to protect.

She wondered if he, too, lingered on her social media, if he glanced at the magazine covers when he stopped by a gas station. She shook her head. What magazine covers? She’d been trying to stay as far as she could from the press.

In an attempt to recover a shred of her dignity, she’d tried turning back into a shrouded mystery. And failed miserably. Fans and critics alike couldn’t get enough of her enigmatic persona, and it seemed she couldn’t go anywhere without people following her.

Success had never tasted to bittersweet.

Could be worse, though, she thought. She could’ve been heartbroken and shunned. Plus, it may have all been for the best. After all, the flash of cameras was the only bridge they had yet to burn. The only way they could haunt each other without having to do the dirty work themselves.

And this was simply how it had to be, now that they didn't talk.

______

One night, at the ungodly hour of four in the morning, her phone's shrill ring shattered the stillness, causing her to bolt upright from her couch.

"Patty?" YN's voice was thick with sleep as she answered the call, squinting at the glaring screen. "Do you know what time it is?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sitting down, what is it?" she asked, her tone tinged with apprehension.

YN listened intently and, after a prolonged pause, she breathed out, "Oh my god."

A mere twenty minutes later, she found herself settling into the backseat of a cab, her mind racing

The driver's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Where to?" he inquired, casting a curious glance at her through the rearview mirror.

"LAX, please," she instructed.

(Welp… guess who’s about to be talking again lol)

Next Track: Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Hope you all liked it! Please interact lol, I am desperate for any reaction at all. Help a girl out, peaceful army. Xxx

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

California

Masterlist

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: idk at this point, sorry. But here’s the jest of it: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwriter was close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully. Now they’re stuck trying to navigate the whole exes-to-friends dance, and somebody is bound to get their toes squashed.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Previous Track:  Queen of Peace (coming soon..)

Chapter soundtrack: California – Lana Del Rey

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Oh, I'll pick you up, If you come back to America, just hit me up. 'Cause this is crazy love, I'll catch you on the flip side. If you come back to California, you should just hit me up.

 YN sat on the sandy shore, her satin robe gently swaying in the breeze as she stared out at the endless expanse of the ocean before her. She was on the set of a fellow artist's music video shoot, patiently waiting for her turn to be on camera.

The rhythmic crash of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to her contemplations. In her hand, she held a postcard, its surface adorned with her friend's familiar scrawl.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she traced the words with her fingertips, savoring the sense of connection it brought. It had been ages since she'd received one of those.

With a soft exhale, she reached into her purse and retrieved her phone, fingers deftly navigating to dial a familiar number. As the call connected, she brought the device to her ear, anticipation fluttering in her chest.

 “Well, well, well,” Josh’s voice echoed, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello to you too,” she smiled, “am I interrupting?”

“Not in the slightest” he replied, “we just got back to the hotel.”

“Shit-” she muttered, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Time difference, you idiot. “You must be drained. I can call at another time if y-”

“And wait another two months for a phone call?” her friend interrupted, his laughter cutting through her concerns. “Not a chance.”

There was a beat of silence. She knew she should’ve reached out earlier.

"I got your postcard," she finally said, her tone warm. "How did you even get my new address, Kiszka?"

"You know I don’t kiss and tell," he teased, his voice tinged with amusement. “Why? Don’t fancy mail anymore?

"Oh, you know, I can never be too careful,” she quipped, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, “so many stalkers out there."

"Guess that means you found the strand of pubes I slipped in the envelope," Josh joked.

"Gross," she groaned, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Eh, you love it” he replied without missing a beat.

“So, how is Europe treating you?" YN asked.

"Well, we’re in Stockholm right now, you know how it is," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, “people are very… tall and morally upstanding."

"And how is everyone doing?" she inquired nonchalantly, though her curiosity lingered beneath the surface.

"Good," he replied, but there was a moment of hesitation before he continued, "Jake’s doing okay, I guess." YN almost sighed in relief, grateful that Josh had spared her the need to ask.

"You guess?" she pressed, sensing his uncertainty.

A heavy silence lingered between them before Josh broke it, "You saw the articles, didn’t you?"

YN didn’t reply, but her silence spoke volumes. There had been a bunch of articles in the press lately, and a lot of fans on social media expressing concern over the demeanor of Greta’s lead guitarist.

“Well, you know,” Josh continued, his tone reassuring, “he’s just been a little more off than usual. Then again, it’s hard to know if it’s the touring that’s getting to him.”

She sighed inwardly, wishing she’d had the courage to pick up the phone and dial Jake's number. She had wanted to reach out so many times but was always held back.

Just then, a commotion erupted in the background, the distant sound of voices and laughter coming through in indistinct snippets.

"Hey, I got YN on the phone over here," Josh declared to whoever was there. YN's heart skipped a beat as she realized that the other members of the band had joined, their boisterous greetings suddenly echoing through the phone.

“YN, I HAVE A NEW VIKING HELMET TO SHOW YOU!”  Sam, of course.

“Sam stole my helmet after he broke his, actually.” And there was Danny.

“That’s not-”

Suddenly, a voice, rough around the edges and achingly familiar pierced through the chaotic backdrop of their conversation.

"Hey, superstar."

Her breath caught in her throat at the sound.

"Hi, Jakey," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She heard the click of a door on the other end of the line and quiet finally returned. They were alone. "So, what's the occasion?” Jake asked casually, “Don’t tell me you’re missing us already."

Her lips curved into a wistful smile at his playful tone, "Oh, you know, just wondering when I’ll get to see your faces again," she replied, "if you ever come back to America, that is."

His laughter echoed through the phone, a comforting sound that washed over her like a soothing balm. "Yeah, who knows when that’ll happen," he admitted, the weariness of their never-ending tour evident in his tone. "Don’t worry, though," he added, "your favorite band will probably play the city of angels soon enough."

A grin tugged at her lips as she teased, "Are the Beatles planning a reunion?"

Jake's laughter filled the air once more. "Oh, fuck you," he chuckled. "And then they wonder why we’re taking the long way home," he mumbled, his words laced with mock-offence. In that moment, as their laughter mingled, she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

"For real though," she said, her smile softening as she spoke, "you should come by sometime.”

"Meh,” he shrugged, his tone nonchalant, “LA weather isn’t really my cup of tea."

Of course, she thought with a hint of amusement. He always hated the heat. Always complained about it. The boys used to joke that it was the Frankenmuth in him. You can take the man out of the city, but not the city out of the man, right?

Still, YN wasn’t discouraged. They'd always found a way to make the best of it before. They could do whatever they'd want. They could hit up all the old places, reminisce about the good times. Maybe throw a rager of a party, get his favorite liquor off the top shelf and dance 'til dawn. Like old times. Cali had many flaws, but it had always been a great time touring there with the boys.

"Come on," she insisted, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "I’ll even pick you guys up from the airport."

"Princess treatment, huh?" he teased, "Tempting."

There was a beat of silence. This was her shot.

"So," she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. "Everything's alright with you?"

“Didn’t get the dirt from Josh, huh?” he taunted.

“Answer the question, punk,” she replied gently.

"Yeah, yeah,” he replied, his tone casual and breezy, “everything's been great."

YN played with the sand absentmindedly. She wished she could tell him that he didn't have to act all strong and cool with her all the time. She wished she could only reassure him that she would always think the world of him, always see him as the brightest of the brightest stars. No matter what.

But instead, she remained silent, her words trapped within the confines of her mind.

"What about you, superstar?" Jake's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in focus, she found herself faced with yet another dilemma. There was plenty new with her. Too much, perhaps. Or too much for small talk over the phone, at least.

"Well, you know,” she replied with a forced nonchalance, “same old, same old."

“Oh," he paused, "okay.”

She winced at his noticeable disappointment, knowing she was keeping him at arm's length, too. On top of being a coward she was a hypocrite.

"Hey,” she interjected, changing the topic in an attempt to lighten the mood, “guess where I am right now."

"Oh, I’m not falling for that one" he chuckled, his amusement evident even through the phone. She once had a habit of ending up in the most unexpected of places, much to the band’s amusement and occasional frustration.

"It's nothing like that, Jacob," she reassured him, a small smile playing on her lips as she thought back to their past adventures.

"Well, go on then," he urged, curiosity piqued.

“That little beach in Santa Monica,” she revealed, waiting for his reaction.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and she couldn't help but wonder if he remembered. After all, there had been many beaches over the years, and the beach bars hadn't exactly helped them keep track of them all.

"The one right across from Jack’s," she added, hoping to jog his memory.

“Aw shit,” Jake blurted out, “the one where Sam-?”

“That’s the one,” she confirmed with a chuckle.

Yeah, it had been quite a night for them. A soft smile played on her lips as memories flooded back with vivid clarity. Drinking and dancing on the beach, the salt on her skin, and the pink cocktail umbrellas in her hair.

Jake had drunkenly written out a love declaration on the wet sand, to which she had responded with a nauseous heave, both from how horribly cheesy the gesture was and from the alcohol churning in her stomach.

Only it was Sam who had ended up bearing the brunt of their drunken escapade, his stomach unable to handle the excesses of the night. She remembered the sight of him retching into the sand, the clear water tainted with vibrant hues of Tequila Sunrise.

“Any remains?” Jake asked, his tone light but tinged with curiosity. She found herself wondering whether he was referring to the remnants of Sam's unfortunate mishap or to his own words carved in the sand. She shook off the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, “seems the tide took care of it.”

“Lucky for us,” he remarked.

“Yep,” she echoed, “lucky for us.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them.

“So, are you taking a day off to call old friends while you work on your tan?” Jake inquired, breaking the silence.

“Uh, well- not really,” YN replied, her voice faltering slightly. “I’m here for, uh, it’s- like- like a work thing.”

“Oh shit,” Jake began, “well, I don’t want to hold you up-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she interjected quickly, not wanting to end the conversation just yet, “I’ve got plenty of tim-”

"Y/N, time for your closeup!" a booming voice interrupted her, and YN's head snapped to the side to see the director in the distance, holding a megaphone.

"…You were saying?" she could practically hear Jake's smirk, and he could practically see her eyeroll.

"Okay," she mumbled reluctantly. "Rain check?"

"For sure," Jake agreed, "you haven’t even gotten to tell me what’s new with you."

"Right," she said, waving to the filming crew to signal she’d be there in a moment.

There was another moment of silence. They’d never been any good at saying goodbye.

"I meant it, by the way," she said suddenly, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Huh?" Jake replied.

"If you come back to California, you should hit me up," she reiterated.

She heard him sigh gently. "Alright,” he said, his tone soft and warm. “I’ll catch you on the flip side, superstar."

"Catch you on the flip side, Kiszka," she replied, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips as she hung up the phone.

She got up, brushing the sand off her robe as she made her way towards the set. As she approached, her heart skipped a beat when she saw pretty-boy hopping towards her, his sparkling green eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

"There you are, love!" he exclaimed, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in a whirl of excitement.

"There I am," she replied with a smile, her heart fluttering at the warmth of his embrace.

"Thanks again” he said, “for doing this, I mean," he continued with a radiant smile.

"Are you kidding? You couldn’t keep me away if you tried," she beamed. “And you’re not shooting my face, anyway, right? So, it’s not like anybody will recognize me," she added with a playful wink, slipping off her robe to reveal her bikini and handing it to one of the stylists. He eyed her with a gentle grin, admiration evident in his gaze.

"Alright, I'll swing by craft service, and I'll be right back. You do your thing, love," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I trust you."

With a final smile, he headed off, leaving her to prepare for the shoot ahead. She was quickly ushered to the filming spot, where she was briefed on the various angles the director had in mind as the stylists worked on final touch-ups.

"Not a bad day to be Y/N, huh?" a makeup artist declared with a knowing grin.

Caught off guard by the comment, YN hummed inquisitively, "Uh?"

"Well, it's not every day your boyfriend writes a hit song about you," the makeup artist elaborated with a wink.

“Oh,” YN nodded, "right."

As she looked to the horizon, her mind involuntarily drifted to the countless songs another boy had written about her, what felt like ages ago. Most of them had never seen the light of day, let alone the inside of a recording studio; destined to remain tucked away tenderly in the corners of her memory, along with images of messy sheets and late night drives. But the delicate strumming of a guitar played in her mind, still.

“Totally,” she added with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

After a moment, the styling team scattered. The music started playing and the cameras finally began to roll.

“Tastes like strawberries, on a summer evening…”

__________

Next Track: Secrets From A Girl (7.6k words)

Hope you all liked it! Please interact lol, I am desperate for any reaction at all. Help a girl out, peaceful army. Xxx

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

I’m sorry I’m just so confused about your masterlist (I’m slow) but can you write them out in order cause I’m so confused and I keep accidentally reading things with like no prior Knowledge of the story lmao 😭

I'm sorry girl 😭😭😭 apparently my toxic trait is I FULLY believe that people across tumblr have complete access to the fanfiction mindmap I keep buried inside my brain.

But fear not, I just posted another masterpost. It's essentially an extended version, meaning it has the titles of ALL the chapters of the ENTIRE story in it, just so beautiful people like you can get an idea of how much is missing between the chapters that have been posted.

It's completely normal to be confused and feel like there is so much info missing. It's because there is SO MUCH MISSING, it's actually not even funny, my grandkids will probably inherit rough drafts. I have it all planned out in my head I just haven't had the time to write latelyyy

I will, however, try posting a couple of chapters in the next few days (pinky promise)

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Love Songs and Shit (Extended Masterpost)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x YN

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Fluff, Smut (honestly it varies depending on the chapter)

Wordcount: if only I knew...

Plot: YN is a popular American singer-songwriter who, on a rainy evening in 2018, crossed path with the members of Greta Van Fleet. It didn't take long for the usually detached and fiercely independent girl to experience an unfamiliar itch. As she put pen to paper, it seemed a certain long-haired guitarist had her thinking about writing love songs and shit.

Concept: Each Album is a period of YN's journey, each track is a song she wrote after a specific chapter, so basically her discography is a chronological story of her life (with Jake, mostly). I'm currently not posting chapters in chronological order, but everything is organized in chronological order on this Masterpost.

Disclaimer: All the album covers are paintings by Norwegian painter Henrik Aarrestad Uldalen I edited. So, credit to that guy.

Also some chapters may involve triggering themes, I'll add the specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Stay safe, besties.

(PREQUEL)Debut Album: "Remain Nameless" => NOT YET STARTED

Old Money

Seven

Blue Velvet

Lost at Sea

Bel Air

South London Forever

This is what makes us girls

Dollhouse

All-American Bitch

Hope There’s Someone

Grace

idontwannabeyouanymore

Remain Nameless

Brutal

Rabbit Heart

National Anthem

2nd Album: "Sweet Nothings" => NOT YET STARTED

The Night We Met

Ride

Lover to Lover

Body Electric

Moves

Hiding

Hope is a Dangerous thing for me to have

Love Song

Sweet nothings

3rd Album: "Let the Light In" => NOT YET STARTED

Wildest dreams

All the girls you've loved before

Cornelia street

How Big, How blue, How beautiful

Dress

Love

Always Remember Us This Way

Let the Light In

Lover

4th Album: "How to Disappear" => NOT YET STARTED

The Next Best American Record

King

Brooklyn Baby

How to Disappear

Mariners Apartment Complex

Norman Fucking Rockwell

Watercolor Eyes

Sky Full of Song

One step forward, three steps back

Out of the woods

5th Album: "The Greatest" => NOT YET STARTED

Happiness is a Butterfly

Swan song

Too Good at Goodbyes

Favorite Crime

You're Losing Me

Without You

The Greatest

6th album: "Long & Lost" => IN PROGRESS

Hits Different (coming soon..)

Now that we don’t talk

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Long & Lost (coming next)

Is it over Now? (coming soon..)

All This and Heaven Too

7th Album: "St Jude" => DONE

California

Secrets from a Girl

Style

The Way I loved You

St Jude

All You Had to do Was Stay

Honeymoon

Happier than ever

8th Album: "The End of Love" => ON HIATUS

The Bomb

Prayer Factory

River

All too well

Caught

Stargirl Interlude

Getaway car

Angels like you

Various Storms and Saints

Leave my Body

Cassandra

The End of Love

9th Album: "Dream Girl Evil" => NOT YET STARTED

Carmen

A&W

Hometown Glory

Dream Girl Evil

Swimming

Restraint

Sober

Sober II

Heaven Is Here

June

God knows I tried

Never Let Me Go

(SEQUEL) 10th Album: "Margaret" => NOT YET STARTED

Morning Elvis

Girls against God

Mama who bore me

Patricia

Did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean boulevard?

Kitsungi

Back in Town

I Drink Wine

Back to December

Margaret

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

The Way I Loved You

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Context: YN has some big news. Chaos ensues, as per usual.

Disclaimer: THIS IS UNEDITED, this chapter has been driving me insane and I just wanted to get it out of my drafts. Also, English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: Style

Chapter soundtrack: That’s the way I loved you – Taylor Swift

He is sensible and so incredible He opens up my door and I get into his car And he says, "You look beautiful tonight" And I feel perfectly fine. But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, And It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name. So in love that you act insane, And that's the way I loved you. Breaking down and coming undone, It's a roller coaster kind of rush. I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you.

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Alright, let’s get into this.

The plane cut through the clouds, having left the US behind as YN and the band embarked on a journey together. YN couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia mixed with anticipation as the Paris skyline unfolded beneath them.

The past six months had been quite a personal success. A mosaic of regular shared experiences had broken down any residual tension that might’ve lingered between her and Jake. Their casual encounters at shows, festivals, and birthdays-alike had served as genuine moments of connection, reforging the group dynamic they had all missed.

YN’s relationship with Harry, on the other hand, had blossomed into a real spectacle that constantly adorned the front pages of tabloids. This, of course, earned her a lot of suffocating attention, but amidst the whirlwind of it all, she managed to find refuge in the simplicity of the few moments she spent with the band.

The purpose of their Parisian escapade was twofold — YN was set to attend the art exhibit opening of an old friend of hers, while the band sought out some specific piece of music equipment that Sam had simply refused to order online.

It was a perfect opportunity to blend business with pleasure.

The jet touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport and as they stepped onto the tarmac, the crisp Parisian air infused the atmosphere with a sense of adventure.

As the day unfolded, the city of lights revealed its magic. Goofing around in a place where no one paid attention to them was exactly what they’d needed. It felt just like old times.

They explored hidden corners and indulged in local delicacies until the jet lag simply became too much to bear. With tired but cheerful eyes, they returned to the hotel as the city lights began to shimmer.

__________

The lobby buzzed with the chatter of a day well-spent. YN got off the elevator on her floor, wishing the boys a good night with a smile.

As she stepped into her hotel room, her gaze wandered across the space. The muted ambiance contrasted sharply with the vibrant memories of the day.

The blinking light on the telephone caught her attention, and curiosity compelled her to check the answering machine.

With the press of a button, none other than her fiancé's voice resonated in the room, a familiar warmth despite the miles that separated them.

"Hi, love, hope you're havin' a good time with the guys. Wish I could be there with you, but I'm still in London.” She smiled softly as his words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

“Listen, I just wanted to let you know I just got off the phone with the jeweler,” a pause hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the unspoken, “they said they're done."

 YN fell back onto the bed with a huff, the mattress embracing her in its soft contours.  Stretched out on the bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the weight of the secret she’d been keeping pressed on her conscience.

Harry’s voice, a distant echo, continued to fill the room, “The ring should fit perfectly now."

The next day arrived, and jet lag had firmly taken hold, but YN shook off its drowsy grip to join Josh, Jake, and Danny in the hotel's dining room for some brunch.

The fatigue was evident on everyone's faces. She inquired about their plans for the day.

 "Well, we have an appointment at the music store in an hour," Danny replied.

Josh scoffed, "If Sam ever decides to—"

"If Sam ever decides to what?" Sam's challenging voice cut in as he strolled over, taking a seat at their table.

"Samuel, how nice of you to join us," Jake teased.

"You know I need my beauty sleep, brother. Don't be jealous," Sam retorted. YN chuckled at the banter, enjoying the familiar dynamic.

As the conversation continued, Danny, with a raised eyebrow, steered the discussion back to the important topic, “As I was saying,” he resumed, “we have an appointment at the music store in an hour. How long do you reckon that will last?” he asked.

 Sam, with his typical nonchalance, replied, “Not sure; the call was all in French. Might be ten minutes, could also be ten hours.”

The eye rolls from Josh and Jake were nearly audible, a synchronized response to their younger brother’s signature unpreparedness.

“Alright, we should probably head out right about now,” Jake declared, scanning the surroundings. He sighed in anticipation, “For all we know Sam may have gotten the address wrong as well.”

The youngest, catching wind of the ribbing, protested with a whine, “Hey now, that’s not fair,” as the group headed out through the bustling lobby.

__________

Once they stood outside the hotel, Danny turned to YN, “Are you heading to your friend’s thing?”

One of YN’s old friends was having the opening night of her new art exhibit, an event which they were all planning on attending later that evening, and YN had mentioned the possibility of going early to lend a hand.

“Yeah,” she replied absent-mindedly, “I’ll see if she needs anything.” She looked away in apprehension.

“Alright then,” Sam said, “we’ll see you later.”

As they were about to part ways, YN nervously blurted out, “Do you all need to be at that appointment thing?” She paused, turning to Josh, “I mean… the equipment is just for the players, isn’t it?”

Josh instantly scoffed, feigning an offended expression, “Well, I happen to play something called the vocals, YN, thank you very much.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” she insisted, an unusually tense expression on her face, “please?”

Sam was about to retort with a whole bunch of technical issues but Josh, catching on to his friend’s unspoken plea, quickly intervened, "Uh, you know what, guys? I think I'll stick around with YN for a bit. I can catch up with you later."

The others, slightly taken aback, glanced at each other, then at Josh and YN.

“Sure, no problem,” Danny smiled.

YN grabbed Josh and the pair strode away, arm in arm, leaving the others slightly dumbfounded.

Josh couldn't help but shoot YN a puzzled look, to which she responded with a silent gratitude that spoke volumes.

The rhythm of their footsteps echoed a subtle tension in the air. After twenty minutes, Josh, usually the easygoing one, couldn't help but enquire, "So, what was that about?"

She glanced at him, her expression a mix of urgency and hesitation. "It’s nothing, let’s keep going we’re almost there.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, “come on, there clearly is something,” he stated, crossing his arms, “and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

She stared at him, tempted to call out his bluff, but decided against it, knowing it was only a matter of minutes anyway.

 “Alright,” she sighed nervously, “I have some news.”

___________

The air hung heavy with the weight of revelation. YN's eyes, now wide with anticipation, searched Josh's face for a reaction, a sign that he had processed the bombshell she had just dropped. The silence echoed like a distant melody, the street a quiet stage for the unfolding drama.

YN finally broke through the deafening quiet. "Aren’t you going to say anything?" her voice carried a mix of vulnerability and desperation, a plea for connection.

Josh, still processing, stared into the distance as if searching for answers among the unseen horizons. The creases on his forehead deepened, and the corners of his lips twitched with unspoken thoughts. "I just—” he finally uttered, “this- it’s is a lot to take in."

 "I know, I'm sorry to spring this on you like that," YN said, her words softening the room's tension. She continued, "I've been dying to tell you- or anyone for that matter, but- with the boys and other people always around, I was afraid it would turn into a big thing, and the news would get out."

Josh remained silent; his eyes still locked on some distant point.

"So..?" YN pressed on. She needed a reaction, a response, anything to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

"So..." Josh hesitated, choosing his words with measured precision, "we're not heading to your friend's exhibit, are we?" he finally inquired, his question cutting through the haze with unexpected clarity.

"Well,” YN couldn't help but let a smirk play on her lips, “remember we always said you'd have dibs on giving your- style opinion if I ever tied the knot?" she teased, the corners of her lips curling with a hint of mischief.

Josh’s eyes widened with surprise, "Hold on, what?" he exclaimed. The tempo of the conversation had, once again, caught him off guard. "Didn't you just get engaged?"

"I know, it's all going a bit fast," she admitted with an excited sigh. "But Harry and I were at this Westwood show a week ago and the bridal look was just exquisite," she paused, “one thing led to another and we just- booked an appointment.”

Josh returned to his silence; surprise still etched on his face.

"Come on, don't be mad," she implored, her tone softening. "You know you love a private fitting," she added, attempting to inject a bit of lightness into the atmosphere, to soften the edges of the unexpected news.

 After a while, Josh looked up, meeting her eyes. "There’d better be a lot of champagne involved," he finally quipped.

She smirked, a sense of relief washing over her. Finally, a normal reaction from her friend. "And only the best,” she assured, “this is Paris, after all."

_____________

The boutique, nestled in the heart of the 7th arrondissement, exuded an air of exclusivity that transcended the ordinary. As YN and Josh stepped into its realm, they were greeted by the hushed whispers of luxury. The walls, adorned with mirrors, reflected the rare creations that hung elegantly on display.

An impeccably dressed man emerged to welcome them with a pronounced French accent. Every detail of his attire spoke of an innate understanding of elegance, a testament to the boutique's commitment to excellence.

It was the kind of boutique that dealt exclusively in one-of-a-kind couture looks, each piece meticulously curated through age-old relationships with some of the most illustrious maisons in the world. It housed creations that transcended mere garments; they were wearable art, destined for the most exclusive clientele.

 Led by the man, Josh and YN were ushered into a private fitting room. A sanctuary of privacy, it was adorned with soft, indirect lighting and the air was filled with a faint scent of peonies.

With a polite nod, the man assured them that he would return shortly with the dress YN had come to try on. As he exited the room, Josh couldn't resist calling after him, sending a playful reminder to bring in the champagne.

The leather sofa cradled them in its plush embrace as a delicate silence lingered, both YN and Josh settling into a cocoon of thoughts.

Josh, breaking the quietude, voiced the question that hovered between them. "So, you're really engaged, then?" His words hung in the air.

“Yeah,” a wistful smile played on YN's lips at the surreal nature of her situation. "I guess I am."

"How did it happen?" Josh asked, the question laced with genuine curiosity and a hint of brotherly concern. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the proposal.

Josh listened attentively, a complex array of emotions crossing his features. He wanted to be solely happy for her, to share in the joy of her new life, but the reality of the situation still needed time to settle.

"It's all moving so fast, isn't it?" he mused, a thoughtful expression clouding his features. YN nodded in acknowledgement.

The atmosphere shifted as Josh leaned back against the velvety cushions, his eyes fixed on a distant point. "On the bright side of things,” he suddenly stated, “Sam owes everyone twenty bucks.”

She looked at him with a confused smile, “What?”

Josh sighed, memories flashing through his eyes. “About four years ago, the guys and I made this whole wedding bet thing” he giggled, “Sam, of course, bet the first marriage among all of us would be him and Carole King,” they both laughed, “guess that’s not happening.”

 “Did you bet on anyone?” YN asked playfully.

Josh nodded silently, a serious expression quietly returning to his face. “Yeah," he finally admitted, a veil of nostalgia covering his eyes. YN's smile softened, a hint of understanding in her eyes. Of course, Josh would’ve bet on her and Jake.

"Life takes unexpected turns," she gently stated as she leaned back into the sofa. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Yep,” he mirrored her words, “who would’ve thought?”

 As the minutes passed, the pair found solace in the shared silence.

The man finally returned with a garment bag that made YN’s eyes sparkle in excitement. Josh, taking charge of the celebratory mood, promptly popped the bottle of champagne, the effervescent bubbles escaping with a soft hiss.

He poured the bubbly liquid into two crystal flutes, the delicate clink resonating in the air as a toast to the unfolding moment.  

_____________

As YN disappeared into the changing area, Josh took a seat, sipping the effervescent liquid and allowing its crisp taste to dance on his palate.

Amid the subtle symphony of sips and the rustle of fabric, Josh suddenly heard some noise emanating from the main area of the boutique. Curiosity piqued, Josh set down his glass and ventured toward the source of the commotion.

“I don’t think this is the place, it’s all clothes in here.”

Josh closed his eyes as he recognized the all too familiar voice. Sammy. He sighed, recognizing the imminent chaos that his baby brother, in all his oblivious glory, was probably about to unleash upon the sophisticated boutique.

 Josh let out an exasperated breath, mentally preparing for hurricane Sammy. As the chaos drew nearer, he glanced toward the main area.

 « Puis-je vous aider? » the owner inquired, attempting to bring order to the unfolding comedy.

“Oh, um, oui, oui, oui, Bonjourrrr Monsieurrrrr, ” Sam stammered in response, « nous, uh- ouch! Daniel, my foot!” he whined.

Danny interrupted, mercifully ending the linguistic massacre, “I’m sorry, do you speak English?” The owner nodded in response. “Great, um, I don’t suppose this building is also an art gallery by any chance? We’re looking for our friends.”

“I’m afraid not. Who are your—” the manager began before being cut off.

“It’s okay,” Josh interjected, stepping out from the doorway to the fitting room with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation, “they’re mine.”

“There he is!” Sam exclaimed before turning back to the owner, “merci very much, pal,” he said, tapping the flabbergasted-looking man on the shoulder.

As Sam and Danny approached, Josh wasted no time addressing the impending chaos. "How did you even find us her—” he interrupted himself, “Danny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop tracking my phone?"

Danny, caught off guard, stammered, his ears turning red, "I don’t know what you’re talking ab—"

"I swear to G—" Josh began, frustration evident in his tone.

 “It doesn’t matter,” Sammy interjected, nonchalantly dismissing the potential drama. “Weren’t you going to some gallery?”

“It’s- a long story, not really mine to tell,” Josh replied, visibly nervous, “weren’t you going to the music store?”

 “Well, we did go,” Danny rolled his eyes, “only someone apparently booked an appointment for the year 2032-”

“Here we go again!” Sam groaned, throwing his arms up, in the air “I already said it was my bad, what more do you want from m-”

“Alright,” Josh sighed, his patience wearing thin, “you guys should head out, like, right now. Where’s Jake?”

“Jesus, chill out, he’s just outside, on the phone with Ma’,” Sam informed, attempting to diffuse the tension.

Danny, with his signature grin, couldn’t resist adding his two cents. "You know," he said, "if you guys wanted to go shopping, you could’ve just said so."

"That’s- not it," Josh retorted, his tone carrying a mix of irritation and urgency. "Will you please just listen to me and go before—"

“Hey!” Jake suddenly appeared from behind the other two, “Ma’ says hello,” he slowly looked up from his phone. “What are we doing here?” He took a moment to assess his surroundings, “Are we going shopping?”

“No, we were just about to leave, actually,” Josh replied nervously, his words rushing out. “Y/N will meet us later.” The air seemed to tense with an unspoken secret, the ambiance of the couture boutique now a battleground for conflicting interests.

"Is she not here?" Sam asked, glancing around the shop.

"No, she’s—" Josh began, but he was suddenly cut off by a voice from behind him.

“Alright, I’m coming out…” a voice range out.

Lord, help us all.

“…but I swear to God if you start crying, I will kick your—" YN’s figure materialized from the fitting room, and instantly froze. Her eyes widened, and her words hung in the air as she recognized the crumpling faces in front of her.

The four guys, equally dumbfounded, if not more so, slowly took in the sight of their friend wearing, what very much appeared to be a wedding gown.

Sammy was the first to break the silence, “What the—”

Fuck.

___________

"So… now you know," Josh announced, absurdly loud, attempting to divert attention, "This year’s MET Gala theme is all-things-white, I know, I know, controversial, but, uh—"

“Josh,” YN cut in. She was thankful for her friend’s futile attempt to cover for her, but it was time to be honest. She turned to the boys.

“So…” She sighed hesitantly, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag, then. I’m kind of—" she paused, the word struggling to come out, “engaged?”

“You’re joking,” Sam blurted out.

“I don’t have my ring,” she clarified, “It’s getting resized, but—”

“Are you for real?” Danny interrupted.

There was a moment of palpable silence, and then YN timidly confirmed, “Y-yeah.” She wore a shy smile, and they scanned her face for any sign of dishonesty, finding nothing but sincerity. The realization hit them like a freight train.

“When’s the due date?” Sam couldn't resist adding.

“I’m not pregnant, Sam,” she snapped back, her eyes rolling with annoyance.

“Holy shit,” Danny exclaimed, rushing towards her and spinning her around. She laughed, feeling the tension dissipate.

“Someone’s making an honest woman out of YN, that certainly wasn’t on my bingo card” Sam teased, earning a look from YN, a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Alright, come here,” he opened his arms, and she gladly stepped into the embrace. “Congrats, superstar,” he mumbled into her scalp.

YN’s eyes finally landed on the one person who had yet to say a word.

Jake stood there, completely still. His gaze remained fixed on YN, an array of emotions flickering across his face. Surprise, disbelief, and perhaps a touch of realization danced in his eyes as he took in the sight of YN in a wedding dress.

 In that moment of stillness, Jake's mind raced. The news of YN's engagement hit him with an unexpected force. Despite knowing that they had both moved on, seeing his ex-girlfriend on the verge of marriage obviously stirred something within.

He watched as YN stood before him. She radiated excitement, yet looked at him with nervous doe eyes, as though seeking approval. Jake's features softened into a faint smile and he finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so happy for you.”

She instinctively wrapped him in a soft embrace. Taken aback, he eventually wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you” she mumbled against his chest, “that means the world.”

“Okay,” Sam’s voice interrupted the moment of tenderness, “now that this is out of the way, let’s talk about this” he said, motioning to the dress she was wearing with an expression of disgust.

The atmosphere lightened as the group transitioned seamlessly from the weight of the revelation to their usual playful banter. "You don't like it?" YN inquired with genuine surprise, her eyes flickering from Sam to Josh, seeking confirmation.

Josh’s mirrored expression conveyed that his baby brother may have had a point, the unison hinting at a rare consensus. YN sighed with playful resignation, a mischievous grin creeping across her face as she hatched a plan to address the situation.

"Alright,” she announced, the glint of mischief in her eyes, “you know what we have to do, then." The boys, catching on to her playful intent, mirrored her smirk in anticipation.

"Fitting Frenzy!" they chanted with a jump, as Danny and Jake shook their head with both amusement and despair. The impromptu decision dispelling any lingering tension as they embraced the whimsical spirit of the moment.

____________

The boutique transformed into a whirlwind of shades, fabrics, and laughter as said fitting frenzy ensued. Each member of the group contributed their unique flair to the impromptu dress-hunt, turning what was initially a stressful situation into a memorable experience.

"Eggshell, Daniel?" Josh's voice echoed through the boutique, a mock sense of outrage coloring his words. "Have you gone mad? Do you think our Y/N will have some barn wedding?"

Danny, unfazed, shot back with playful defiance, "Well, I'd rather have her in an eggshell gown than that horrendous bedazzled mess you suggested." Their banter echoed through the fitting rooms, punctuated by bursts of laughter that drew bewildered glances from the boutique staff.

YN, caught in the middle of the sartorial crossfire, couldn't help but chuckle at the playful antics of her friends.

Amidst the banter, Sam emerged from a changing room, strutting down the shop in a princess ballgown layered over his shirt. "You know, this is actually much more fun than what we had planned for today," he declared, twirling around.

The boutique's managing director, growing increasingly concerned with the boys' chaotic energy which clashed with the usual etiquette of his establishment, observed the spectacle with a mix of confusion and disapproval.

As the afternoon continued, YN found herself submerged in a sea of fabrics and styles. The excitement that had initially fueled the endeavor was now tinged with a hint of desperation as she tried on dress after dress, searching for the perfect one. Despite the growing frustration, she maintained a sense of fun, laughing at the playful banter of her friends.

 Throughout the disorder, Jake moved around the boutique, occasionally offering suggestions but seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts. His attention wavered here and there.

“Hey how about this one?” Sam interrupted his brother’s train of thoughts holding up a dress to him, but Jake wasn’t paying attention, his gaze seemingly stuck on something. “Jake?” Sam inquired.

 Breaking from his distracted reverie, Jake finally voiced his suggestion, pointing at the specific garment that had captured his attention. "No," he said definitively, "She should try this one."

The owner's enthusiasm echoed through the opulent boutique, his thick French accent lending an air of sophistication to his words. "Aaaah, I see you have the American eye, don't you? We curate very few pieces of American design, but this one," he declared, his fingers delicately grazing the luxurious fabric of the dress in contemplation, "yes, it is… quite delectable, is it not? Tom Ford, 1986. A good year."

As he held the dress with a certain reverence, Sam eagerly announced, "We'll take it," seizing the hanger from the poor man's hands and dashing toward the fitting room. "YN, look what we found!" he gleefully shouted through the boutique, the proclamation carrying a hint of mischief that made the owner flinch.

Apologizing once again for his brother's exuberance, Jake offered a sincere "Sorry about that" to the slightly rattled proprietor. The old man, despite the chaos Sam had caused, chuckled halfheartedly as he returned to the meticulous task of sorting the upscale garments.

After a pause, he turned back to Jake, his eyes holding a glint of appreciation. "If I may," he said with a knowing smile, "you have a good eye. She will look exquisite in it."

Jake nodded in acknowledgment, a sense of satisfaction warming his chest.

__________

As he headed back towards the fitting room. A chorus of oohs and aahs reached Jake’s ears.

There she was, YN, adorned in the dress he had chosen just moments ago, the sleek and elegant silk hugging her frame in a way that seemed tailor-made for her. The dress accentuated YN's beauty in a way that left him momentarily breathless.

Caught in the moment, YN looked around the room and inquired, "What do you think?" A chorus of enthusiastic responses filled the air.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Sam chimed in, eliciting a genuine smile from YN.

Turning to Josh for his opinion, YN received a heartfelt compliment that seemed to catch her off guard. "You look really beautiful," Josh admitted, his voice slightly breaking with emotion.

"Gosh, stop it,” she playfully remarked, attempting to lighten the mood, “You're going to make me cry, and I haven't even seen it."

“Well go on, then,” with a helpful hand from Danny, YN was guided onto the small platform, facing the grand mirror. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked up at her reflection, and the room held its breath in anticipation.

Her eyes began to glisten as she took in her own reflection. The dress reflected Jake’s taste for the understated, emphasizing the beauty of simplicity and allowing YN's natural grace to shine through. It was a creation of plain elegance, a sleek masterpiece crafted from immaculate porcelain silk that draped effortlessly on her frame.

A soft smile played on YN's lips as she stood there, momentarily rendered speechless by the sight before her. "It's-” she eventually said struggling to find the right words as emotions bubbled to the surface. “It’s so…"

"…you," Josh finished the sentence for her, “it’s so you.”  The collective affirmation in the room conveyed a shared understanding—the dress wasn't just an exquisite garment; it seemed to be an embodiment of YN's essence, a celebration of her being.

The owner, with an air of grace, stepped forward, breaking the tender moment. He inquired, "Now, what are we thinking in terms of hair?"

 "Up," Jake and Josh said in unison. Jake glanced down, slight embarrassment coloring his expression.

YN nodded with a radiant smile, "Up it is."

"Would you like to see our collection of hair accessories? Just to get an idea." the owner offered, leading to an affirmative nod from YN. A skilled stylist promptly approached, delicately crafting an elegant updo, revealing YN's delicate collarbones.

As she perused the display case of accessories, YN settled on a sophisticated white gold pin adorned a single pearl. The owner, appreciating her choice, carefully retrieved the accessory.

However, the pin slipped through the owner's fingers, hitting the floor with a delicate clink. Before anyone registered the mishap, Jake had descended to one knee. He delicately picked it up, his movements fluid and confident, as if the gesture had been rehearsed a thousand times before. The boutique seemed to hold its breath as Jake rose to his feet. Sam and Danny exchanged a knowing glance.

The clearing of Jake's throat pierced through the stillness, drawing attention from the clandestine intensity of the scene. His eyes met YN’s through the mirror, seeking permission.

A nod from her, gentle yet affirmative, signaled her consent, along with a soft flutter of her eyelashes. With a deliberate step, Jake closed the distance between them, the air charged with unspoken anticipation.

He extended his hand, gently placing the pin in her hair. In a moment suspended in time, his fingertips accidentally brushed against the nape of her neck. A feathery touch that let an electric current pass between them.

As the two stood side by side, the lavish Parisian boutique provided a glamorous backdrop to a silent interlude. YN, adorned in the white gown, and Jake beside her, found themselves momentarily immersed in the alternate reality painted in the mirrors. The soft ambient lights seemed to cast an otherworldly glow.

In that suspended moment, their reflection seemed to carry whispers of the 'what-ifs' and the divergent narratives that fate had penned for them.

As their gazes met in the mirrored picture, an unspoken understanding lingered in the air—a shared acknowledgment of a parallel universe where the threads of destiny had woven a different tapestry.

The boutique owner, sensing the shift in dynamics, played the role of an artful conductor, steering the ensemble away from treacherous territories. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed, his voice serving as a gentle reminder of the present moment. “Isn’t it?”

The spell broken, Jake and YN found themselves back in the shared reality of the Parisian boutique. The moment dissipated, leaving behind a trace of wistfulness and a shared understanding that some paths, no matter how enticing, were to remain veiled in the realm of what might have been.

In that fleeting moment, Josh and Sam exchanged another knowing look. They understood the silent undercurrents that had rippled through the room, visible only to those attuned to the intricacies of their story.

 "Yeah,” echoed Jake softly, a touch of unease in his voice “Beautiful."

Suddenly, a voice breaks the contemplative atmosphere, announcing, "Hope I’m not interrupting." To everyone's surprise, the figure standing at the door is none other than that of YN’s fiancé.

Harry’s entrance cut through the atmosphere like a gentle disruption, eliciting a swift reaction from the gathered ensemble. In the blink of an eye, Jake stepped away from YN, creating a visible distance as the unexpected visitor approached.

The shift in dynamics was palpable, the subtle recalibration of postures a silent acknowledgment of unspoken boundaries.

"Oh my god,” the surprise painted across YN's face turned into sheer joy as she hopped off the platform, and sprinted towards Harry, her hand tenderly finding its place on his neck. In an impulsive burst of delight, she planted a kiss on his lips, an expression of unrestrained affection that spoke volumes to those around. “What are you doing here?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

 Harry, with a casual charm, explained, "Just landed an hour ago, thought I’d surprise you." His eyes then shifted to greet the boys, who still bore the remnants of surprise on their faces. As the initial shock settled, YN, still wrapped in the delight of the moment, turned to Harry with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

 "Are you coming to the opening tonight?" she asked, anticipation of his response lingering in the air.

“No, I’m flying back as soon as I’m done with my interview,” he said, “Actually, I have to run right now, I’ll make sure to send Camille flowers though, tell her congrats for me, will you?”

Camille, Jake thought reluctantly. Harry knew YN’s other friends. How come Harry already knew her other friends? How come he’d never heard of Camille before?”

“Are you sure you can’t stay just a little while longer?” she pleaded.

“Sorry, my manager’s expecting me back in London by tonight,” he said, prompting a subtle pout from YN. “Aw, come on, don’t make that face, love. Here, I have something that’ll cheer you up.” He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a small leather box and Josh cast a quick glance at his twin brother, who observed the scene. “I swung by Cartier on the way here,” Harry opened it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. “There,” with gentle precision, he slid the ring onto YN's finger, “fits like a glove.”

"Thank you," YN smiled, her words accompanied by a tender kiss Harry planted on her hand.

“I left a little something at your hotel as well” he murmured, and she smirked sheepishly in response. She, by nature, may not have been driven by material gifts, but she knew how excited Harry always got.

“You’re the sweetest” she said softly.

“You are,” he retorted, “and would you look at you!” he exclaimed, eyes dancing with admiration as he twirled his fiancée around, reveling in the enchanting vision she presented. The moment, however, took an unexpected turn as he took a closer look at what she was wearing, “Hey, this isn’t the dress we’d talked about,” he questioned.

“Yeah, the Westwood didn’t exactly pan out,” Sam interjected, before YN could respond “that’s on us, mate.”

“Is this the one, then?” he said, gesturing to the gown she had on.

The room seemed to hold its breath as his question lingered. A wave of discomfort washed over YN. The very thought of walking down the aisle to Harry in the dress felt terribly inadequate for some reason.

“Uh, no,” she gently admitted after a pause, "I think I'll keep looking,” she shrugged. Her words prompted groans of disapproval from Sam and Danny. "It should be perfect for us," she insisted with a smile, though in truth, she was uncertain whose feelings she was trying to spare.

"Whatever feels right for you," Harry said, "I’ve got to run. It was nice seeing you all," and with one last peck on her lips, he exited the room.

Harry's departure left the boutique enveloped in a subtle sense of relief as Jake grappled with an internal turmoil that mirrored the brewing storm outside.

Irritation, disguised beneath a veneer of nonchalance, slowly began seeping through his veins.

 Suppressing the inconvenient truth that lay dormant within him, Jake found himself grappling with an internal struggle between acknowledging the depth of his feelings and maintaining the carefully constructed walls he had erected around his heart.

YN silently turned back to the boys, casting a quick glance at Jake. The subtle creases of his brow, a silent acknowledgment of a storm brewing beneath the surface.

“I think we’re done for today,” she declared, as she fumbled with the ring on her finger. “We don’t want be late.”

______________

As the day melted into the evening, YN's wardrobe transitioned from the sleek ivory gowns of the boutique to a fun silver dress that shimmered with each step she took. The metallic fabric reflected the neon lights that illuminated the night, outside of the art gallery they were heading towards.

Adorning her ears were emerald earrings, thoughtful gift left by Harry at the hotel, glinting subtly as they caught the sporadic flashes of the vibrant light.

The anticipation of the evening's celebration seemed to clash with the subdued mood that had settled among the group as they approached the venue,

YN, still tense after the afternoon's emotional rollercoaster, maintained a dignified composure, though the echoes of her emotional turmoil lingered beneath the surface.

Jake, who hadn't uttered a word, let alone glanced in YN’s direction since their departure from the boutique, appeared increasingly tired as resentment simmered beneath the surface.

The vibrant energy that had characterized their friendship now hung in a delicate balance, disrupted by the unexpected currents set in motion. YN, though saddened and upset by the palpable shift in dynamics, chose to endure the silent treatment. It was true that she could have handled things with more thoughtfulness earlier.

They were welcomed into the space by the sound of music and sight of a decent crowd, a mix of art enthusiasts and socialites, swirling around the vibrant works of art.

Camille, with cheeks flushed and a self-soothed confidence fueled by a few drinks, spotted YN from across the room. "Oh my God, you're here!" she exclaimed, rushing towards her old friend with genuine excitement. She enveloped YN in a warm hug, her voice reflecting both joy and intoxication. "How have you been?" The two of them chatted for a minute.

The attention then shifted to the Greta boys, looking as handsome as ever. Camille, her eyes gleaming with mischief, greeted the boys with a seductive charm. "Well, bonsoir, gentlemen," she cooed, extending her hand with theatrical elegance, "Enchantée."

Seizing the opportunity for a flirtatious exchange, Sam pushed his brothers aside, positioning himself at the forefront. With a confident flair, he lay a delicate kiss on Camille's hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, prompting the others to roll their eyes.

________

As the evening unfolded within the pulsating confines of the neon-lit gallery, Jake sought refuge at the bar, carefully avoiding any contact with YN like a sailor steering clear of a storm. His deliberate avoidance, a self-imposed exile, left her feeling adrift amidst the swirling currents of tension.

Distressed by the unspoken chasm between them, YN ended up seeking solace on the terrace, where the crisp night air provided a temporary respite from the stifling atmosphere inside. Her eyes were fixed on the ring on her finger, it glistened delicately in the light, yet felt heavier than ever on her finger.

“What are you doing out here?” Danny's voice interrupted the solitude, breaking the quietude of the night. He approached YN, his breath forming visible puffs in the chilly air.

"Is that a cigarette I see in your hand?" he asked, genuine surprise coloring his words.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," YN responded with a wry smirk. She wasn’t a regular smoker, but when days were high in stress, she sometimes found comfort in the smell and taste of tobacco, a weakness from years past. She took one last drag before moving to put out the cigarette.

"No need to put it out," Danny reassured her.

"It's okay, I don't mind," YN replied, extinguishing the cigarette with a flick of her fingers. The cool night air seemed to match the tense atmosphere lingering between them. Danny, breaking the silence, finally broached the sensitive topic that loomed over the night like a specter.

"So…" he began, his words hesitant.

"So…" she echoed, her eyes teasing him.

"Marriage, huh?" Danny eventually voiced, the question lingering in the air like an uncharted path in the dark.

"Yep," she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips. Danny and YN shared a glance that conveyed an unspoken acknowledgment — a few years back, the notion of YN embracing matrimony was nothing short of an absurdity. She and Jake had broached the topic once or twice, but it simply wasn’t her style. Not at the time, at least.

As her short response hung in the cold night air, Danny's eyes held a mix of curiosity and concern. "Are you happy?" he gently probed.

"You know…?" she paused, the words carrying the weight of introspection, "I think I am." As she spoke, the echoes of her own journey reverberated through her voice.

There was a time, not too long ago, when the prospect of happiness felt elusive, hidden in the shadows of heartbreak. After Jake, she had wandered through life with difficulty. The idea of happy-ever-after had seemed like a distant dream, an illusion shattered by the echoes of what had been.

Yet, Harry had entered her life like a gentle force, a subtle breeze that whispered promises of new beginnings. It wasn't the same love, nor did it intend to be. The edges were softer, the hues more muted, but it felt right, it felt- sensible.

She had once believed that devotion could only wear the guise of what she had known with Jake, but life had a way of rewriting its own narratives.

Danny, leaning against the cold metal railing of the terrace, absorbed YN's words with a thoughtful expression.  "You've come a long way," he remarked, his voice gentle, “Both of you.”

"Yeah," YN responded, her gaze momentarily drifting to the city skyline. “He hasn’t said a word to me all afternoon, though.”

Danny nodded, understanding the weight of unspoken words. "You know him, better than most. It doesn't mean he's not happy for you; he’s just never good with change."

Amid the day's tumultuous atmosphere, Danny once again stepped into his role as the voice of reason. His words carried a soothing reassurance, a balm to the unease that had settled over YN.

She sighed, the night air carrying a hint of hesitation, "I hope so.”

 A gust of wind swept through, eliciting a shiver from YN.

“You should go back inside,” Danny said with a gentle nudge, “Wouldn’t want you to catch death before you make it down the aisle.”

 “Yeah,” YN chuckled back, “that would not be a good look.”

_______

As YN walked back inside, her eyes locked onto Jake, who, upon meeting her gaze, promptly diverted his course, striding purposefully in the opposite direction and disappearing into the men's room. The continuous avoidance and unspoken tension had reached its breaking point, and Danny’s reasonable words seemed like no more than a distant echo.

Fuck it.

Fed up with the unspoken rift, YN briskly followed the guitarist, determined to confront the lingering unease that had shadowed them throughout the day. With each step, her resolve strengthened. The hallway echoed with the clicking of her heels, a stark contrast to the lively hum emanating from the exhibit area behind her.

The door to the men's room swung open, revealing the dimly lit space within, and YN was met with the sight of Jake standing near the row of sinks. His posture, while seemingly casual, hinted at an anticipation that sent a ripple through the charged atmosphere.

She tried to hold onto her tenacity before it inevitably slipped away. "Can we talk?" she ventured, unnecessary loudly.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Jake's downturned gaze as he replied, "This is hardly the place."

"Since when has that been a problem?" she retorted, frustration seeping into the words. Jake's silence, an unnerving response, hung between them like an unspoken challenge. "We need to talk; you've been avoiding me all day," she continued, the weight of the unsaid pressing down on the confined space. “See? You won’t even look at me.”

"Alright," Jake finally shrugged, looking up at her, "Get on with it."

Caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze, YN hesitated for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked, concern evident in the furrow of her brow and the subtle quiver in her voice.

Jake scoffed, turning away. "What do you think?" he spat, his words cutting through the air with a sharp edge.

"You said you were happy for me," she countered, a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

"Yeah, well, what the hell d'you expect me to do?” he shot back, “I wasn't exactly about to make a scene in front of everyone."

"Jake,” she sighed, her voice softening in the face of his evident frustration, “I'm sor—"

"And to find out about it like that?" he interrupted, hurt evident in his eyes. "I mean, I know we've had our ups and downs, but Jesus, I thought we still had some respect for each other."

"I'm sorry," she offered sincerely, "this— it wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I wasn't—"

"Sure,” he pressed, his voice carrying a bitter edge, “and when exactly were you going to tell me, huh?"

"I— I don't know—" she stammered, her words an acknowledgment of the disarray surrounding the situation, a vulnerability laid bare.

"Were you just going to wait until paps got a shot of that huge rock you carry on your finger?" he continued, and YN wished she could sink into the ground.  The rapid clenching and unclenching of Jake’s fists revealed the intensity of his emotional turmoil. "Or better yet, wait for me to see photos of your fucking honeymoon in the press—"

"Stop it, you know I'd never do that," she interjected defensively.

"Actually, I'm not sure I know anything about you right now," he retorted.

"And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?" she demanded, her voice tinged with defiance.

Jake looked at her for a moment, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You're seriously going to make me say it?" he shot back.

"Well, I'm not a fucking mind-reader!" she roared.

"Come on, YN” he rolled his eyes, “Marriage? Mrs. Styles?" he mocked, his words carrying a weight of disbelief as if grappling with an inconceivable reality.

"Yeah, well, what about it?" she spat, attempting to conceal the hurt that flickered in her eyes.

"Please," he shook his head dismissively, as if challenging the very essence of the decision she'd made. “That's not you."

"And what do you know, huh?" she said, the echoes of her frustration reverberating off the restroom walls. "We haven't been together in years; what makes you think you know what I want for my life?"

"Because I know you!" he yelled, the force behind his words revealing a desperation to be understood. Silence hung in the air, a palpable tension between them before Jake pressed on, "and better than that jackass does, apparently,"

"You don't even know him!" she shot back, her defenses rising.

"See, that's the thing," he scoffed, a bitterness underlying his tone, "I don't need to know him. I know your taste in men."

Her eyes flickered with pain, a wounded expression betraying the impact of his words. "That's a low blow," she eventually said, a mix of hurt and indignation coloring her response, "even from you."

"Yeah, well, only the truth hurts, I guess," he mumbled, a bitter acknowledgment hanging in the air as he walked past her and headed towards the exit.

"So what?" she called out, the desperation evident in her voice. "Was I supposed to stay single for the rest of my life?" He turned around, his heart breaking as he met her sad eyes. She continued, "I—After everything- do I not deserve a chance?"

"No, that’s not-" an instinctive pull drawing him closer to her. His hand gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You know all I want is for you to be happy."

"Well, I am. For maybe the first time in years, I am," she whispered, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand. "Harry, he's good, he makes me feel- safe."

He felt a pang in his chest at her words. "I'm sure he does," he said sadly, his words weighted with an unspoken ache. "That— that's not the problem."

"Well, then, what is it?" she searched his eyes, desperate for understanding.

"It's just— " he hesitated, the words burning in his throat, unwilling to ever come out. His fingers delicately brushed her hair behind her ear, and his gaze lingered on the emerald earring that dangled from her lobe. "He’s-” Jake continued, his eyelids flickering, “he's got good taste."

 With those words, he walked out, leaving YN behind, paralyzed, the weight of the unspoken lingering in the air.

________

YN found herself back in the exhibition area, but the vibrant artwork was a blur as her mind wrestled with her recent exchange with Jake. The odd thrill of their heated encounter served as an unsettling reminder of what she’d left behind.

She’d messed up and he’d messed up, a pattern that seemed to keep on haunting the both of them, even in friendship.

Truth was, he’d probably been right. She wouldn’t have had the guts to tell him about her engagement.

Why, though, was a question she couldn’t quite answer. Perhaps she’d enjoyed that in-between. On some level. Perhaps she’d wanted to witness his unfiltered reaction, or she’d been curious as to what might happen if she let the news come out on its own. Perhaps she’d simply been bored out of her mind.

Her songwriting had seemed to have run dry recently. The more time passed, the more she found that ‘happiness’, whatever that was, presented a ridiculously uneventful subject. After all, there would be no grand choirs to sing, no chorus could come in about two people sitting doing nothing.

Perhaps Patty had been right when she’d said YN had always needed to go to war to find material to sing. But it was a dangerous game, one she’d renounced a long time ago. Too much of her blood had been shed. She had let the sword fall to the floor, only to be replaced by the ring on her finger.

Immobilized by a sea of emotion, YN suddenly felt a comforting presence beside her. Josh's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Don't worry about him,” he offered, “he'll come around eventually. It's just a lot to process."

"I know," she replied with uncertainty, her eyes still fixed on the artwork as if seeking solace in its silent forms.

"One of you was gonna end up getting married someday," Josh continued, "you just happened to be the first. That's nothing to apologize for." His hand found hers, the silent gesture conveying a silent promise of support.

_________

The following day unfurled with an air of quiet tension. It was YN’s turn to deliberately avoid Jake as they moved through the day's activities. However, the serendipity of travel arrangements had a laid out different plans for them.

As they boarded the plane, YN's eyes darted across the cabin in search of her seat, her desire to maintain distance palpable. Yet, the universe seemed intent on weaving a narrative of its own.

There, in the vast expanse of plane seats, she had apparently been expected to sit next to none other than the very person she’d been trying to avoid.

A flicker of reluctance crossed YN's face as she hesitated near the row, contemplating her options.

Just as she decided to retreat, Jake's hand gently reached out, “YN, come on,” a silent plea evident in his touch, "please?" His words hung in the air, soft yet compelling. It seemed he had renounced his fighting mood from the day before. She relented, sinking into the seat beside him.

The hum of the plane engines served as the backdrop to a charged silence, unspoken tension echoing in the space that stretched between their bodies.

Once takeoff was done, Jake hesitated, glancing towards YN with a contemplative expression. Breaking the uneasy silence, he began, "About yesterday..."

She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions, a silent invitation for him to continue. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," Jake admitted, his voice carrying a blend of regret and vulnerability. " It's just... it all caught me off guard."

YN, too, felt the weight of remorse settling in. "I should've told you. I should've found a way to tell you before,” she looked down at her hands, “but everything happened so fast, and I-I didn't know how…"

He nodded, a mix of regret and understanding in his eyes. "Still, I was an ass.”

"I get it," YN replied softly, meeting his gaze. "It's a big change. I never intended for you to feel blindsided."

He sighed in acknowledgment, "I guess we both have a lot to process. I never expected- I mean, I didn't think it would hit me that hard."

She met his gaze, a shared understanding passing between them. "To be fair, I never expected to find myself here either," she admitted, her voice soft. "But things change, I suppose."

"Yeah," he whispered, "they do."

The tension that had gripped the air between them began to slowly dissipate as YN chose to inject a much-needed dose of levity into the confined space of the plane.

"If that makes you feel better," she remarked with a gentle smile, "I’ll make sure to have a full-on meltdown when you get married, that way we’re even."

“Deal,” Jake chuckled, a warmth spreading through him, "just make it memorable, okay? Maybe hire a choir or something."

"Oh, absolutely," she nodded with mock seriousness, "I'm thinking fireworks, synchronized swimmers, the whole shebang. It's going to be an event."

“And of course, you'll need a soundtrack.” He mused, “Maybe something like ‘I Will Survive’ or ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’?"

"Solid choices," she laughed, "but I was thinking more along the lines of Cryingby Aerosmith. Really amp it up, you know?"

"Ah, a woman of refined taste," he quipped, "I'll be sure to add it to the playlist.”

She nodded, playing along, "And a fog machine as well, for my dramatic entrance.

"Well, naturally," Jake responded, “Can't forget the fog.”

The banter continued, a familiar cadence of playful exchanges that danced on the edge of shared memories. YN, feeling a sense of relief, leaned into the easy camaraderie they had always shared.

"So," Jake eventually needled, a curious glint dancing in his eyes, "have you set a date?"

“No, not yet" she responded with a casual shrug. "But knowing us, it's probably going to be a while. We're constantly swamped with work. You know how it is.”

“Too busy to plan your special day?” he smirked, “I don’t believe it, you were already picking your dress, weren’t you?”

“Well, I do have my priorities straight,” YN laughed. “But seriously, though,” she insisted, “I swear you might end up tying the knot before I do.”

Jake chuckled in response.

__________

He would contemplate the conversation in the following weeks, assuming the wedding talk had merely been banter. The idea of YN getting married seemed like a distant future, perhaps years away.

Little did he know that merely a month later, a small, elegant envelope would arrive in the mail, bearing news that would unknowingly alter the course of their fate.

Miss YN YLN and Mr Harry Styles Request the pleasure of your company at their Wedding Save the Date

Next Track : St Jude

Series Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

St Jude

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Context: Y/N’s Bachelorette Party and an open bar don’t mix very well for one Jacob Thomas Kiszka.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Previous Track: The Way I Loved You

Chapter soundtrack: St Jude – Florence + the Machine

Another conversation with no destination, Another battle never won, Each side is a loser, So who cares who fired the gun? And I'm learning so I'm leaving, And even though I'm grieving, I'm trying to find a meaning. Let loss reveal it. St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes. St Jude, we were lost before she started.

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Alright, let’s get into this.

_______

The Florida sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the expansive beach. Gentle waves whispered tales of excitement as the beachside bar awaited the arrival of the bachelorette and her entourage.

The atmosphere was charged with anticipation when Sam, Danny, and Jake walked through the door, greeted by a lively crowd of friends and colleagues of YN’s.

As they took in the venue, Sam couldn't help but chuckle, "Well, would you look at that? The three of us are early for once!”

Danny grinned in agreement, “Must be some kind of cosmic event."

Jake, however, remained unusually quiet, his eyes scanning the room as though searching for something elusive.

The trio made their way to the bar area, where the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations offered a lively background. Sam raised an eyebrow at Jake, sensing something brewing within his brother. "You alright, man? You're quieter than a library on a Sunday."

"Yeah, just tired,” Jake took a sip of his drink, the bitter taste doing little to soothe the turmoil within. “Probably just need more of this," he quipped, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Truth was, he had been having a hard time getting proper sleep. Eating too, but he’d blamed it on the stress of their upcoming album.

Guests mingled, sharing anecdotes and laughter as the sun set over the horizon. Yet, Jake remained on the periphery, a shadow among the revelry. His gaze occasionally flicked towards the entrance, a subconscious yearning for something unseen.

In a sudden burst of energy, YN and her bridesmaids, including Josh in his bright pink bridesman attire, finally made their grand entrance. The room erupted in cheers and applause and the air filled with an infectious effervescence.

YN, radiant in her sparkly dress, moved with a grace as she made her way through the crowd, greeting friends and well-wishers. Jake was surprised to feel his chest tightening with an indescribable unease.

As YN approached the trio, her infectious energy lit up the space around her.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, behold the miracle,” Sam playfully teased, “she has arrived, and only an hour late!”

"Very funny, Samuel,” YN chuckled, giving a light shove to his shoulder.

Danny smirked, raising his glass. "Taking punctuality lessons from Josh, YN?"

Amidst the banter, her eyes met Jake's. "Hi," she beamed at him, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m so glad you could come.”

"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Jake replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the night progressed, the sky darkened, and the party came alive with the sounds of music and champagne bottles popping open. The bachelorette, seemingly everywhere at once, danced from one group to another. Her laughter mingled with the rhythm of the music, a joyful symphony that echoed through the night.

Meanwhile, Jake found solace at the open bar, the cool glass in his hand offering a temporary escape from the overwhelming ambiance.

Each drink served as a futile attempt to drown out whatever was going on with him as he watched her from a distance. The alcohol in his empty stomach brought a temporary numbness, but the reprieve was only fleeting.

The atmosphere in the venue grew electric as the bridesmaids gathered to present YN with a playful gift—a sparkling tiara adorned with rhinestones spelling out ‘Mrs. Styles’. The crowd erupted in cheers as they crowned her, and YN, with a laugh, embraced the moment, wearing the gift with an air of mock regality.

Jake, however, felt an odd pang in his chest at the sight. He could’ve sworn the glittering tiara had been taunting him.

The night wore on and the tension within the guitarist continued to escalate amidst the pulsating beats and laughter. The bar, as per usual, turned out to be both his refuge and prison.

His gaze regularly flickered to her figure, unable to escape the magnetic pull she exerted, however much he tried to convince himself otherwise. And she looked so fucking happy.

The event carried on, and it seemed everything and anything only added fuel to the growing fire. A well-intentioned bridesmaid, unaware of the complexities that lingered beneath the surface, approached Jake to toast to the newlyweds.

A bitter taste lingered in his mouth at the girl’s words, and he thought he might just get sick all over the poor girl. It’s probably just the whiskey, right?

He somehow managed to retain composure, turning back to the drink he was nursing while the confused girl walked back to the dance floor.

It’s only a while later that a familiar voice interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“One Negroni, sugar.” Patty. “And don’t skimp on the Gin.” YN’s manager materialized to his side as she addressed the bartender. After a moment she turned to the guitarist. Leaning against the counter, she broke the silence.

“It’s nice for you to have come, Jacob.”

He clenched his jaw at her words. Yes, that was him, Jacob nice-guy Kiszka. He absolutely had not considered setting himself on fire for the past three hours.

The two of them once had a lovely friendship, if you could call it that. They never had that much in common, but they’d always shared one priority. YN’s well-being. Everything, of course, had turned sour when the rocky days of his and YN’s relationship creeped in, forcing Patty to step in more than once.

Memories of years past came back to Jake. Hushed conversations between the manager and him. Arguments behind closed doors. It’s for the best, Jacob. She won’t admit it, but she’ll eventually break if you two keep on going that way. It’s a necessary evil.

Patty had almost always been right, of course. Still, the bitter memories left his very flesh feeling raw.

“I can’t imagine it was easy,” she continued with a knowing look. Jake stared at his glass in silence. “But trust me, this, it’s good. It’s right.” she stated, “I suppose some things are just- meant to be.”Jake knew exactly what she’d meant to say. And some other are not.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Patty truly knew YN. Not the performer, not America’s sweetheart, not the tabloid-pleasing, award-winning, photo-posing girl. The true YN.

To be fair, she probably did. After all, Patty had been by YN’s side much longer than he had. She’d protected her in ways that went far beyond her role as manager. She’d cared the way a mother does. She’d wanted the fairytale for YN and, of course, with that came the prince charming, on his white fucking horse, with his stupid fucking English accent.

The chaos that clung to Jake’s very skin had most definitely clashed with that picture. Of course, the early days were fine. More than fine, in fact. Before Patty had witnessed them at their worst, she’d seen them at their best. But when the time came, when the chips were truly down, she had, of course, put YN’s interest first.

“If that make you feel better,” Patty carried on, “I’ll still look after her in London.”

Jake’s heart skipped a beat and he thought he might have misheard. He finally looked up to meet her gaze. Patty nodded, as sad understanding in her eyes, “They’ve been looking through houses, for after the honeymoon.”

Jake’s grip tightened around the glass in his hand. He might have burst out laughing had it not been so ridiculously tragic. He hadn’t even considered that an option. Why couldn’t Harry just move permanently to the US, huh? If he really was so giving and good? Why couldn’t he make that sacrifice? Asshole. And why on earth would YN ever accept to settle down with that guy to the other side of the world? Since when was she the kind to just follow someone around?

“You must be happy,” Jake eventually mumbled, taking another sip.

He couldn’t help but act as though it was all Patty’s doing. As though she had somehow planned the whole thing, the way a Bond villain does. As though she had wanted to make sure YN remained out of reach forevermore.

Maybe it was simply easier to believe that, than to accept the fact that YN, his YN, had wanted to follow her husband so far away. 4000 fucking miles away to be precise. That she had chosen all this.

“I am,” Patty replied with a gentle nod, “so long as she is, too.”

Some voices beckoned Patty back to the dance floor and with a gentle squeeze of his arm, she finally retreated. “Go easy on the whiskey, Jacob,” she uttered as she walked away.

Jake let his mind wander. A London townhouse. With a backyard and a fucking cat. An extra room on the second floor, just in case, with walls waiting to be painted in shades of pink or blue. Fucking baked beans for breakfast. And tea. Yeah, Harry probably drank tea. Harry probably wasn’t one to drown himself in booze and send the car flying off the road, glass shattering all over her skin.

YN would go to bed without worrying about where he was. Harry would be in bed before her, probably reading some posh poetry collection; reciting some Keats verses as she slid next to him.

Jake had never been one for words. It had been the delicate strumming of his guitar that filled the air when YN slid next to him in bed. Of course, that was before the stupid fighting, the tears, and the nights away. She must’ve had gotten used to sliding into an empty cold bed, with only the sound of city construction nursing her to sleep.

Now he was the one going to bed alone. Or he might as well have been. The coconut-smelling girls coming in and out of his apartment didn’t exactly constitute company worth mentioning.

 A bitter ache ran through him, and he ordered another drink.

It was around two in the morning when toasts started echoing through the venue.

 One of YN’s bridesmaids, took the stage. As she stepped forward with the microphone, the room fell into a hushed silence, the soft murmur of the ocean outside the only background noise.

She spoke eloquently, weaving tales of love and destiny, her words painted with the vibrant hues of celebration. "And here's to the happiest I've ever seen YN," she declared, raising her glass. "It's like fate itself intervened to bring her and Harry together. It's a love story for the ages, one that was truly meant to be."

Jake, further lost in the depths of intoxication, sat at the bar with clenched fists, the whiskey in his glass nearly forgotten. Each word intensified the throbbing ache within him. His gaze fixed on YN, who smiled with genuine joy, seemingly oblivious to his anguish.

As the applause erupted, drowning the room in a symphony of congratulations, Jake felt a surge frustration. No longer tethered by reason, he downed the remaining contents of his glass in one swift motion. The sharp burn of the alcohol igniting the dormant embers of his emotions.

 With an intensity that surprised even himself, Jake pushed away from the bar, his movements unsteady as he navigated through the sea of well-wishers.

Without a second thought, driven solely by a raw, unfiltered impulse, Jake ascended the small stage. The bridesmaid, caught off guard, relinquished the space, her eyes widening in surprise as Jake snatched the microphone from her hand.

The atmosphere hung heavy with a mix of tension and anticipation as Jake took center stage with a stumbling step. His jaw clenched, and a fire burned in his eyes.

"Good evening, everyone," Jake began, his squinting gaze momentarily lost in the sea of faces before him. His words slurred slightly, a testament to the alcohol coursing through his veins.

"As some of you may know, I am the ex-boyfriend and now dear, dear friend of the bride-to-be,” he paused for a second, the words making him nauseous. “Anyway, where was I?" he chuckled, the sound tinged with a bitter undertone. "Right. Y/N. What can be said about her? I mean, she truly is something, isn't she?" A nervous ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, uneasy with the unpredictability of the guitarist's unfiltered words.

Sam and Danny exchanged concerned glances, realizing that this impromptu speech had the potential to become quite a spectacle. "She's full of- surprises, a real freak, if you know what I m—" someone from the crowd attempted to interject, but Daniel swiftly got on stage, a diplomatic smile plastered on his face. He gently grasped Jake's shoulder, a silent plea for restraint.

"Come on, man," Daniel murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Let's go get some fresh air, huh?"

Jake brushed off the boy’s attempt with a dismissive wave, his focus resuming on the microphone. "No, no, no, it's okay," he insisted, his words carrying a touch of defiance. "I'm just- joking around. That's what you do at a bachelorette party, isn’t it? Recount the future bride's past adventures,” he giggled bitterly, looking to the crowd, “and boy, you would not believe—"

"Jake, let's go," Sam intervened, his presence adding a sense of urgency to the situation. The crowd's gaze shifted from Jake to Sam, to Danny, and a hushed murmur swept through the venue. Jake, however, seemed caught in a trance, his eyes seeking YN’s figure in the crowd.

Sam and Danny attempted to guide him off the stage. "Hey! Let go of me," he protested, swaying unsteadily in a mix of intoxication and defiance. "Come on, I'm just joking around!” he resisted, his hand still holding tightly onto the microphone, “Sammy, come on, you, of all people would know what I'm talking about. I mean, you did catch us fucking a couple times, didn't you?" A collective gasp swept through the crowd in audible shock.

The atmosphere shifted from celebratory to uncomfortable in the blink of an eye. Jake's words hung in the air, leaving those in attendance in a state of stunned silence.

Before Jake could utter another word, Josh leaped onto the stage. Swift and decisive, he forcefully grabbed the microphone. The screeching feedback filled the room, momentarily drowning out any further words from Jake. The abrupt halt cut through the tension and the venue filled with an uncertain hush.

Sam and Danny, each with a firm grip on Jake, guided him away from the unfolding chaos, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration. "Alright, time for bed," Sam asserted, his tone firm as they led Jake out the door.

Back on the stage, an uncomfortable silence lingered. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Josh, perhaps for the first time ever, found himself dumbfounded with a microphone in his hand and spotlight shining on him.  

 His gaze met YN’s. Clearly shocked, she stood completely still. Patty at her side, was offering a comforting presence by rubbing her shoulders. He searched for words to fill the void left by his brother's reckless outburst.

"Alrighty then,” Josh quipped, attempting to inject a dose of humor into the tense atmosphere, “seems like my brother has, in true Kiszka fashion, overindulged in the open bar." A few chuckles broke through the awkward silence, and he offered a sheepish grin, acknowledging the awkwardness that lingered. "You know how it is with rockstars, always a bit- unpredictable." The crowd responded with a mixture of laughter and relieved smiles, grateful for the comedic relief.

As Josh said a few more words, the music gradually resumed, filling the venue with lively beats once again. The party mood, momentarily disrupted by Jake's impulsive antics, slowly rekindled.

____

A few yards away from the vibrant venue, Sam and Danny grappled with Jake, who continued to argue drunkenly, his resistance growing more erratic with each step. The trio moved further away, the rhythmic waves providing a somber soundtrack to the guitarist's inebriated protests.

Eventually, Jake crumpled to the ground. His suit, now adorned with wet sand, presented a testament to his unwillingness to cooperate.

Danny sighed, glancing at Sam who, frustrated, chose to distance himself from the situation for a moment. Few things could truly irritate the youngest Kiszka, and the disruption of a good party just happened to be one of them.

Left alone with Jake, Danny stood silently by his sitting figure, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

Sam returned after a brief respite, holding a glass filled with seawater. "That ought to sober him up," he declared, tossing the contents of the glass in Jake's face.

 "Hey, what the fuck?" Jake sputtered, lurching to his feet abruptly. His venomous gaze settled on his younger brother, and in an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Jake, fueled by alcohol-induced bravado, was in a fighting mood.

Sam, unyielding, met Jake's gaze with a stern expression. "Just calm down, Jacob,” he urged, his tone firm but laced with brotherly concern, “You're making a fool of yourself.”

The stars overhead witnessed the unfolding drama, casting a gentle glow on the sand as the two youngest grappled with the complexities their bandmate’s emotions.

Jake stood defiantly, wet sand clinging to his clothes.

"Come on, man” Daniel's voice cut through the night, firm but gentle, “you have to know you were way out of line." He always served as the voice of reason, an anchor attempting to steady a ship tossed in turbulent waters.

In that moment, however, Jake couldn't help but despise the drummer's calm demeanor. He only wished for a spark, an ignition to match the wildfire within him, and his bandmate's rationality only seemed to fuel his own frustration.

 "And what the fuck would you know about that, huh?" Jake spat with anger. His words edged with bitterness as he got up in Daniel’s face, "Always playing the calm, collected one, like you're above it all. Just back the fuck off." The night echoed with the strained conversation, the waves crashing against the shore.

Jake, fueled by a concoction of alcohol and resentment, wanted a release, a confrontation to validate the storm within him.

Daniel sighed, a weary acknowledgment of the futility of the situation. "We're just trying to help. You don’t want to do this."

Jake scoffed. Feeling the weight of his own frustration, he muttered in defeat, "Whatever.” The sand crunched beneath his shoes as he turned away, a solitary figure against the backdrop of a restless sea, “Just go back inside."

"Oh,” Sam sneered, “if you think we're about to leave you unsupervised after this shitshow, you are dead wr—"

"You should get back inside," someone interrupted from behind them. Jake's face dropped, recognizing the voice instantly. Sam and Danny turned around to see YN standing a few feet away with her arms crossed. An unreadable expression was etched on her face.

Sam and Danny exchanged glances. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog that refused to dissipate.

 Sam sent YN a inquiring look. Are you sure? They respected YN's judgment, yet the worry lingered like a silent undercurrent beneath the surface. They were all too aware of Jake’s unpredictability when he drank too much.

She nodded wordlessly, her gaze shifting to Jake’s back. Her eyes, once filled with laughter and joy, now held a depth of emotion that was difficult to decipher. Sam and Danny eventually walked past her, offering apologetic smiles. They headed back into the bar, leaving Jake and YN alone on the moonlit beach.

The distant murmur of the party and the sound of waves crashing against the shore served as a backdrop to their silent standoff. The night held its breath, caught between the residue of a disrupted celebration and the muted tension.

With his back still turned, Jake closed his eyes.

The stillness was finally broken by YN, unable to bear the quiet any longer. "Aren't you gonna say anything?” Her tone was sharp, a mixture of bitterness and anger lacing each word, “you seemed to have a lot to say back there."

Jake flinched, the gravity of his actions washing over him like the freezing tide. Slowly, he turned around to face her. There she stood, arms crossed against the night chill, her hair gently swaying in the wind. Goosebumps adorned the delicate skin of her arms as she seemed to shiver against the breeze. The moonlight cast a melancholic glow on her features, framing a face etched with disappointment. Caught off guard by her candor, Jake struggled to find the right words.

"I—" he began, but before he could complete the thought, she sprung towards him.

"I cannot believe you would do this to me," she spat, her words cutting through the night air like shards of glass. A forceful push against Jake’s chest caused him to stumble backward, "you, fucking asshole!" The sting of her words hung in the air as she continued to unleash her frustration.

Jake, attempted to downplay the situation with a dismissive sigh. "Come on, no one will remember a thing in the morning," he remarked, reaching out to grab her wrists to stop the damage.

YN struggled against his grip, her eyes ablaze with a mix of anger and hurt. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Jake's eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, he saw the hurt reflected in her eyes. "Come on, it's a just party, for Christ's—"

"That's not the issue here!" she asserted, pulling away from him. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? How could you pull that crap?" Her voice wavered slightly, and he could feel the weight of her hurt settling in his chest. "Why even bother coming?" she shook her head in disbelief, "If you were just going to—"

"Well, it's not exactly like we'll have that many opportunities to see each other,” he spat, the bitterness in his words slicing through the night air like venom, “once you officially become Mrs. Styles."

"Yes, I am getting married!" she yelled in frustration. "I know that! And I tried doing what I could to make it easy on you, but—" she paused, her words hanging in the air like a heavy curtain, "Honestly? I don't even know why I should anymore. We broke up ages ago—"

"Yeah, and whose fault was that?" he interjected, his tone accusing and filled with a bitterness that had long festered in the shadows of their past. The charged atmosphere between them crackled, the pain of their shared memories surfacing like ghosts in the moonlit night.

YN's reaction cut through Jake, the hurt evident in her downturned gaze. In that moment, regret gnawed at him, his impulsive words now a bitter aftertaste. He knew well that their breakup had been entirely his doing, fueled by demons of his own making. But the anger, amplified by the drink, had led him down a senseless path.

 “Believe it or not," she stated, "things were as difficult for me as they may have been for you.” Her voice was a mix of hurt and frustration, "I honestly thought we'd outgrown all of that. But- you—saying that shit about me, in front of my friends, my colleagues, m-my future stepfamily? What is wrong with you? That’s just—” she shook her head, “do you really despise me that much?" he flinched at her words, guilt settling heavy on his conscience.

"Of course, not—" he started.

"Do you hate me so much that you can't stand, let it only be, the thought of me finally being at peace?" Her words pierced through him, each syllable carrying a vulnerability that echoed in the stillness of the night.

"No, that's not it—" he tried to explain, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between them.

"Well then, what the fuck is it, huh?" she demanded, frustration evident in her voice. "A few months ago, everything was fine, we were fin-"

"You wouldn't get it!" he snapped.

"Well, I sure as hell won't get it if you refuse to talk to me," she retorted in exasperation. Almost six years down the line and they were still stuck, facing the same issues they did on day one.

Despite his strong front, Jake remained silent, the weight of his emotions stifling any coherent response. "Jake—” she continued, calmly, “you—this past couple of years, us- managing to be- to get along, it’s been so good, I’d missed it so much," she confessed, stepping closer until her chest touched his. Her eyes sought his, "I’d missed you so much, but this? This angry, bitter jackass? I don't want him in my life,” she scowled. Her words cut through him like shards of glass, each syllable a painful reminder of the person he had become in that moment. “And yes, I know, it probably sucks having an ex get married first but- Jesus Christ, Jacob, grow the fuck up. We're friends, aren't we?"

He clenched his jaw, his throat tightening as he struggled to contain the whirlwind of emotions. Stepping away, he attempted to shield the tears that threatened to escape.

“Aren’t we?” she repeated, her voice breaking. A fragile silence lingered in the night.

"Just—" he finally muttered, his voice laced with a bitterness that mirrored the bitterness within him, “just go back to your fucking party,"

The sadness on her face slowly morphed back into anger. She gulped, her resolve finding new strength.

"Gladly," she spat, turning on her heels to walk back to the bar.

He clenched his jaw, hands on his hips, frustration and self-loathing churning within him as he watched her retreating figure. In a futile attempt to reclaim some semblance of control, he shouted out, "Fuck you!"

She didn’t bother turning around, but without missing a beat, she shouted back. "Well, fuck you too!"

____

Jake sat on the sand alone. The weight of the night’s events settled heavily on his shoulders as the alcohol-induced fog slowly dissipated. The crashing waves seemed to echo the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" a voice erupted, and Jake didn't bother looking up, recognizing the tone of his twin brother. Josh sat down next to him, a mixture of frustration and concern etched on his face. "An asshole, too."

"Yeah, right," Jake scoffed, bitterness coloring his words. "I'm the asshol—"

"She doesn't know," Josh cut him off, gently. The words hung in the air: a heavy truth finally spoken aloud. Josh, with his intuitive understanding, had always read his twin better than anyone.

"Please," Jake eventually muttered, his voice low and strained. "Of course, she does."

"How could she?" Josh retorted; frustration evident in his expression. Jake had watched as YN got in the stable, healthy relationship he had failed to give her. And he had sat patiently as she stepped towards the life of a married woman. Yet, through it all, he had remained silent, failing to express the one thing she’d needed to hear.

"Yeah, well," Jake mumbled, eventually, clearing his throat as he stared off into the distance, "It's not like I can do anything about it now."

Josh remained silent. His brother had a point. The opportunity to come clean had passed, and the consequences of his silence weighed heavily.

"Come on," Josh said finally, getting up on his feet and brushing the sand off his suit. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."

"You're a bridesman,” Jake said, “isn't it your job to be here?"

 "My job” Josh stated, “was to make sure everything went smoothly for Y/N, which I miserably failed to do tonight, thanks to you, brother. Now, come on," he held his hand out, a silent invitation, "I'll drive back here once you're in bed."

Jake chewed on his lower lip, his gaze fixed on the sand beneath him. He finally asked hesitantly, "Shouldn't I go and apologize first?"

Josh chuckled sadly, a knowing expression on his face. It was always impossible to stay mad at his twin for long. "It's probably better to give her some space right now."

____

"Alright," Josh called out, his eyes on his phone as he texted Sam, informing him he was on his way back. The ride to the hotel had been quiet and Jake had collapsed on the hotel bed the second they arrived. "I put aspirin and water on the table, your phone is charging and—" he stopped abruptly as he heard a muffled sound, his eyes lifting from the screen.

"I—" Jake muttered shakily, the word barely escaping his closed throat, as Josh approached his bedside. "I just- I don't know what to do," he managed to get the words out of his closed throat.

Josh didn't need more to understand what that meant, his heart breaking at his brother’s unusual display of vulnerability. He knew the pain that must’ve been tearing him apart. The admission hung in the air, a poignant acknowledgment of the emotional turmoil that swirled within him.

Jake had had his fair share of flings after their breakup, and he had expected YN doing the same. After all, she was nothing short of incredible, and admirers were bound to line up at her door. But marriage? That was a different realm entirely. Marriage meant forever. Marriage was the final nail in the coffin of what they once shared.

Josh sat silently at the side of the bed as Jake, exhausted both physically and emotionally, slowly succumbed to sleep.

“Me neither, Jakey,” Josh eventually whispered, pulling a blanket over his twin, “me neither.”

Next Track: All You Had To Do Was Stay

Series Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

lol I saw on your masterpost you have a St Jude chapter coming. Please god tell me it's for St Jude by Florence + the machine. I am begging you. I need the feels. And I saw you already put a couple of her songs for different chapters, you are part of the elite ma'am 🤝🏾

😏😏😏

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

This entire story has my critical thinking skills going like a hamster on a treadmill.

What happened? Why? Harry’s here but how long? Sammy what happened? Jake why would you allow that? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

lmao, I know, it's a mess right now :') I'm just posting random chapters but not in chronological order so basically the storyline is full of holes for now. I'll try to write the titles of all the chapters on the masterlist so the readers can have an idea of how much is missing in between the ones I've posted.

So stay tuned honey, I promise we'll get there eventually!

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

"She didn't turn to him for solace, and he refrained from offering it. His own hand discreetly flexed with tension." Like. Girly. I AM NOW STUCK VISUALIZING JACOB THOMAS KISZKA DOING THE MR DARCY HAND FLEX. YOU ARE USING YOUR POWERS FOR EVIL

I believe it's Jacob Thomas Kiszka + SIR????

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Can I just say The way I loved you sort of broke me????? All the hints about the past, it's got me scratching the walls. I really want to know about why they broke up. Also the little hints about Jake's past substance abuse?? Just drive me to the psych ward already.

I don't have my driver's license (do not judge me okay??? We don't need cars in France), but I'll make an exception. Hopefully... traffic won't be a bitch.