pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes.
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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Overprotective PT 3
!kinda proofread!
Hope you enjoy the last part :)
Don’t forget to throw in some request!
-🩷
(They will be a few time skips)
**
I sat on the dining table down stairs slowly eating my breakfast as the boys were running around trying to figure out stuff and brining their bags down. My bag was already brought down by the help of I.N who didn’t seem as mad at me like the other guys were. So, there was no need for me to go upstairs anymore.
My head phones were on and I was eating up some bacon, eggs and potatoes Leeknow had nicely cooked for me knowing that my stomach normally acts up whenever we had to travel. Which was really sweet of him really.
The house was noisy like usual. People were walking in and out of the house. Chan was running around with papers and passports in his hands in one corner obviously stressed. Hyunjin and Han arguing about who was taking what skincare, leeknow helping I.N figure out his airport outfit and Changbin, Felix and Seungmin were taking selfies to post on bubble.
Once I finish the meal the cars pulled up in our driveway and I grabbed my heavy bag trying to carry it to the car but completely failing. Stupid stylists and packing sending me all these clothes (joking I’m totally thankful for all of them)
"Here let me help you." I.N says grabbing the bags and carrying them into the car. I say a small 'thank you' really appreciating the fact that he didn't stand there and watch me suffer.
We get into our different cars knowing our trio's.
Me, I.N, Felix, then 3 Racha, then Leeknow, Seungmin and Hyunjin. Like always. It didn’t change unless there was some type of security problem. Our car was the loudest in normal occasions but today due to the circumstances, the car ride was quiet.
No one dared to speak a word. I felt myself slowly shutting down because I was so tired because of the lack of sleep.
We had been learning the new choreography the past week and barely got enough time to sleep. Even the boys started to complain about the amount of hours we were putting in.
The sleepy red eyes and eye-bags were the biggest signs.
I was struggling to stay awake there was no lie there. I grab my energy drink and start sipping on it. Hoping it could atleast get me through the walk through of the airport.
By the time we arrive I had finished the drink and put the can in the car trash bin and got out of the car with the boys.
All the fans lining up outside, probably thousands, screaming our names and trying to get a picture or look.
"Let's go this way." The guard says shielding us from the paparazzi's flash lights.
We follow him and meet up with some of the boys making our way to the front of the airport where we all stood in line and waved. Waved at everyone and took some pictures.
I could hear the burning questions of the paparazzi about the pictures from last night. The yelling growing louder and louder. Some were horrible and others were way too insensitive.
"Just ignore them, yeah?" I.N says in my ear and I quickly look over at him nod. Nobody could see the tears that hid behind my glasses. Thank God.
I just knew I had to act normal and act like nothing was getting to me because if I did it would be suspicious if the person in the picture wasn’t ‘actually me’.
"Alright shall we?" The manager motions for all of us to follow him and we do. We follow him all the way through into the crowd and into check in.
"It must not be her it those pictures from last night then. What a scam! Her hair is blonde!" I hear some people whispering in the line that was right next to us.
"Poor girl! All the hate she's getting online is so saddening. Atleast now we know it's not her." The other girl replies while tapping on her phone.
The hate I was getting? What hate was I getting?
I questioned and pull out my phone and scroll through the new articles that read.
"New photos from last night FAKE!" I sigh in relief as people were actually believing it wasn't me in those pictures. Chan was right.
I was happy for a little while until I scroll onto twitter where things started to actually get out of hand.
I start reading each and ever comment under my hashtag. #straykidsY/n
"I knew she wasn't Idol type!"
"This is honestly disgusting how could she do that to her fans"
"Does it mean to at she's getting kicked out of straykids?"
"I told y'all she was disgusting. Y'all didn't believe me"
My jaw is left hanging and I squint my eyes scanning every single comment in shock. Why were people so mean? Why were men sexualizing me as well? Grown men?
"Y/n. Keep walking," Leeknow whispers in his scolding tone. “Your slowing down.” I try and pick up my pace and when we make it past the check in point. I quickly put my phone away and wipe the tears that had fallen.
The heat under my sweater was starting to get to me. It felt like I was slowly suffocating. It felt like the walls were crashing in.
I start to sweat as I access the way we're going.
A lot of people in the airport were staring at us. A lot of eyes were watching us. Watching me probably.
Probably thinking I'm the worst or thinking of how I would like it in my panties. Disgusting.
My hands grow sweaty and start to slowly shake. I feel my legs grow weaker. We're almost at the private jet. We're almost there.
If I can get to the jet that's all. That's all I need to do.
But the icky feeling of throwing up starts to crawl in my stomach. I start to slow down which causes Leeknow to scold me again but I can't, I can't walk. It feels like I'm slowly being pulled into the ground.
"What is it?" Leeknow says holding onto my hand. This causes everyone to also stop even the guards and staff.
"What's wrong?" He looks at me worried.
The cold sweat and pale skin worries him even more and starts to worry Chan now who is now walking from the front to the back.
"P-panic attack." I manage to say in short breathes. I'm leaning on leeknow. My breathing getting shorter by each breath.
"What is it? What going on?" Chan whispers. His hand automatically placing on my back.
"I think she's having a panic attack." Leeknow whispers.
"Fuck, Y/n. Listen, you need to breathe and walk so we can get you somewhere quieter." He talks to me softly, “can you do that for me love?” He asks.
I slowly nod and start taking slow steps. The two older boys standing by my side making sure I don't collapse.
By the time we walk into the jet I gasp for air and walk to a corner far from everyone. Leeknow and Chan following me closely behind.
“Do you need some water? Talk to me what’s wrong?” Leeknow asks kneeling in-front of me.
“It’s so hot, it’s so hot.” I start to panic even more.
My hands rip through my sweater. “Where’s your bag Y/n?” Chan asks and I point by the door. He grabs it and pulls out my small portable fan and points it my way.
A hand on my lap makes me look up. Seungmin standing there looking very worried.
"Y/nie you need to breathe my love. Breathe. Here look at me." He holds my hand and squeezes it. "See your doing a good job. Everything is okay. You don't need to panic okay? I've got you."
The world slowly starts moving at a normal speed again. Seungmin sits by me and pulls me into his arm cuddling me.
"See, there you go baby girl. You're okay now. You're fine." I look over at him and couldn’t help but smile. That didn’t last long when the feeling of nausea hits me really hard.
"I feel sick Minnie,” I say trying to get out of his grip just incase I didn’t throw up I didn’t want to throw up on him.
He furrows his eyes, “What kind of sick love?"
"I'm going to throw up." I take in deep breathes and swallow really hard trying to stop it from coming out.
"Oh my God, hold on let me grab a bag." The sound of panic rises in his voice and he moves to the side. "Chan pass me those paper bags now." He tells him in a hurry and Chan does so.
I grab it out of his hands and start to gag. The gag came with all the breakfast I had eaten. I keep throwing up until my throat and stomach start to burn.
I shut my eyes in pain. A few tears falling from all the exhaustion.
His hand was holding my hair now and rubbing my back waiting for me to empty the contents in my tummy. "Are you done?" I nod my head and he takes the trash bag away.
"Here's water babygirl." Chan hands me the bottle and I drink it then lay on the chair in my eyes slowly closing.
"How are you feeling? Talk to us.” Han pops up out of no where.
"Mmm sleepy." I softly say and I hear a tiny ‘aww’.
"Here are you headphones. Get some rest then in a bit you can have some food yeah?" I hum in response and face the other way so I could fall asleep.
I keep twisting and turning until I can finally get some rest.
*
"Alright welcome to New York!" A big buff guy says welcoming us in the airport. He was accompanied with 2 other big buff guys and a tiny lady.
"You must be BangChan." She smiles and gives him a hand shake.
"Yes I am and these are straykids." He smiles and we all bow saying hello.
"Nice to meet you guys. Okay, so we heard that you guys were tired so we might just do a few pictures outside and then we can head off to the hotels." She says enthusiastically, "Your schedules will be handed to you by my assistant once you guys arrive. Any questions?"
"No not really. No questions as for now. We would like to say thank you for having us and thank you for being our tour manger this time round. We appreciate it. Also as a thank you we braught you some goodies from South Korea." Chan smiles and point to the basket Changbin is holding.
"Oh thank you so much! Please I hope you guys enjoy your stay. If you guys need anything, anything at all do not hesitate to contact me through your managers yes?" Chan smiles at her and we all give her a friendly wave before walking outside to flashing lights and into our different cars.
In the evening a few of the boys came at different times checking in on me. Luckily I hadn’t thrown up or had any other panic attack. I knew they were still mad at me but they wanted to know if I was good or not.
“Why do you guys keep coming to my room if you’re mad at me?” I ask Hyunjin and Han who were the last ones to check in.
“Just because we’re mad at you doesn’t mama we want you to be sick and unhealthy. We still care.” Hyunjin tells me while handing me a cup of warm
Milk.
“True now drink up so we can go for dinner,” I give Han a small smile before drinking the warm milk.
I couldn’t help but still frown though. The unsettling feeling of guilt just lingering in my tummy.
I just wanted my scolding to get over with so that they wouldn't be mad at me anymore and when I was sent a text to go to Chan's room. I knew it was time.
I put on my slippers and quickly make my way to his room and stare at the door.
“God I beg you, let me come out of this room alive. Amen” I whisper a small prayer before knocking.
"Hey you wanted to speak with me?" Chan answers with his laptop in one hand and phone in the other.
"Come in Y/n." He says softly and I walk into his room. Slowly by slowly I notice all the boys seating in different places; on the bed, chairs and tables.
I sigh and take a sit on the chair that was put in the middle of the room obviously for me. It felt like I was in court at this point. A sigh leaves my lips as I wait for them to start.
"Y/n. What you did was the most stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life." Chan says getting serious. His tone getting harsh.
I flinch at this but continue to listen to his scolding.
“Yes Chan I’m sorry.” I softly say looking at the carpet beneath me.
"I am disappointed in you, I really am. I'm not even going to explain to you in depth how much trouble I am in with your parents and JYP. They still think that it wasn't you in that picture because we had to lie and say you were home getting your hair dyed. Your lucky people are eating this shit up." His tone was now getting more harsher.
"As for your punishment,” I take a breath I’m hoping that it would be light, “Your not allowed to go anywhere unless your with the boys. You're grounded for 3 months. All your doing is going for practice, rehearsals and schedules. No where else. Understand?" Fuck.
"Yes BangChan." I say softly playing with the rings on my fingers.
"You can't even be trusted now. All my trust in you is gone. Do you know how many phone calls I've gotten?" I keep quiet. "Answer me, I'm talking to you."
"No Chan I don't" I reply.
"Exactly, so I hope you'll learn your lesson the hard way. Also whoever that little boy is, I never wanna see you with them until your dating contract is over understand? Fuck it I don’t want to see you with any boy at all whether they’re your friends or your bestfriends."
"Yes bangchan."
"Do any of you guys have anything to say?" He looks around the room to the rest of the boys who were giving me very stern looks.
"I hope you really learn your lesson love. We're only doing this because you're still young. You won't get it."
"Yes Hyunjin,"
"Okay now you can go on into your room." Chan says dismissing me.
I slowly get up and walk out of the room and into mine.
Atleast the scolding was over with and I wasn’t thrown out a window. Atleast now they won’t be angry at me.
My knees buckle as I make it into the dark bedroom but I'm able to stay steady. I walk and lay on the bed and scroll through my twitter reading the comments.
I find my self spiraling. The world spinning once again due to the mean comments and threats. I didn’t know why was doing this to myself, why was I reading such hateful things? I need a breather. Some fresh air. Without thinking, I drop my phone on my bed and grab my shoes.
I walk to the hotels stair case and start walking up the stairs.
When I get to the rooftop I sit down and take in the view. It was peaceful and quiet. No one was up there which made it even better.
I wipe my tears that I hadn’t noticed had fallen and start to calm down. Just enjoying the view. Enjoying being alone and taking a short break from people. From the commotion.
It felt like 30 minutes and when I come back down and walk into our corridor I see the guards standing outside us Chan is pacing up and down outside my door.
What were they doing? I question and make my way to them so I could get to my door.
"What's going on?" I ask furrowing my eyebrows.
"Y/n? Oh my God thank God." He sighs in relief. I swear I saw him tear a little too.
"What happened?" I asked everyone.
“It’s okay I found her, thank you though. I don’t know where she was but I’m about to find out. Yeah okay bye.” Chan hands up the phone and looks up at me, "Where did you go Y/n? I told you not to go anywhere without the boys!" He exclaims.
"Chan I just went upstairs to the rooftop. Is that wrong?" I ask him confused than before.
"You were just on the rooftop?" He asks unsure to believe what I’m saying.
"Yes I was. You can check the cameras if you don't believe me." I shrug and pull out my room keys.
"Then why weren't you picking up your phone? You scared me! I thought you runaway!" Hyunjin steps In.
"I left it inside because of all the hateful notifications I was getting," I sigh and look up at the boys.
"Hate notifications?" I.N asks confused.
"Yeah the hate is getting really bad, so I decided to go for a breather. No big deal. I didn't know I wasn't allowed to go anywhere in the hotel premises-"
"No no your allowed, I- I just started freaking out thinking you had run away or something. Go on into your room we'll be there in a bit." I shrug and watch him turn the guards who looked like they had seen a ghost.
Knowing the boys well, they probably had threatened them and cursed every living thing in their life time which I found kind of funny because of how Overprotective they were.
I enter my room and start dressing up for bed and removing my makeup.
When the door opens and closes and a few of the boys walk in. (Felix, Han and Chan) I look up at them confused.
"Would you maybe like to go bawling?" Han says softly.
"But isn't it late and I'm grounded-"
"We'll your grounded starting when we get to Korea. Right now we're in New York. Let's have some fun. My treat." Chan smiles and sits on my bed.
I knew they felt bad and I knew they didn't want me to be alone in the room to fight my thoughts.
"Come on it's a good distraction and we can grab some street food!" Felix chimes and rubs my shoulders.
"Okay fine I'll get dressed." I sigh tired.
"Unless you wanna stay in and watch a movie?" Han says looking at me worried.
"No no no, we can go I'm just a little tired."
"Oh then we're definitely staying in and watching a movie." Chan stands up from my bed and grabs his phone.
"We'll order in a lot of food and then go to sleeep yeah? I'll text the boys."
"Okay that's sounds relaxing."
"Yes it does AND we can finish of that game we couldn't last time."
"Yeah we can."
*
The food was really good and after so many questions about whether I wanted to throw up or not had passed, we were able to all lay in Chan's bed piling on top of eachother.
"I love you Y/nie" I.N says out of the blue and starts to poke my side.
"I love you more than he loves you," Felix jumps in.
"No I do!" Hyunjin says.
"Okay okay I get the point! I love you guys too. I geuss." I tease and they all chuckle.
"We hope your no longer sad about us scolding you, we really do mean well love,"
"I know I know, it's okay I deserved it. I'm sorry for being a handful."
"You're not a handful really, just a growing baby."
"Guys I'm 18, oh my God stop calling me a baby!!" I bury my face into the blankets and they all start laughing.
My little family.
**
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SAVING GRACE | h. lewis
summary: y/n goes on the saving grace podcast and talks sidemen hate, breaking up with her boyfriend, plans for the future and megan fox liking an instagram post! [14.4k words.]
pairing: reader x bog (W2S.)
notes: longly anticipated: the first podcast fic! little reminder that any questions missed may be in the next one w/ bog himself and more! i’ve got a lot lined up 🥴 plssss let me know what you thought, ik so many of you have been waiting for this and i honestly could have gone on forever!!! 🙂❤️ would like to thank you as well for the 1.4k following me, ily!!! lots of love! don’t forget to rebolog! <333
“‘ELLO EVERYONE, WELCOME BACK to another episode of Saving Grace, today — we’ve got Miss Wroetoshaw in the house.”
You waved from your chair, to the camera pointed at your face. “Happy to be here.”
“As am I, as am I! Quite the special guest today.”
“Well,” you tilted your head, “debatable.”
“No, I mean it. ‘Cause you don’t really give much away of yourself online — you don’t even have a YouTube channel, so! This is like a revolution! An exclusive! Getting you to spill today!”
“Yeah, fair.”
“So! Introduce yourself, tell the people who you are!”
You smiled, getting comfy in the chair as Grace copied on the one opposite to you. “Ok, so, hello everyone. I’m Y/n Y/l/n, probably better known as Y/n Wroetoshaw,” you looked to your host to see if that was better said, “yeah. I say this in no way other than straight facts: I am known as being Wroetoshaw’s girlfriend. Literally. I’ve — i’ve been brought up known as Harry’s girlfriend, there is . .”
“—there is no other way to say it.”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah! Does that bother you?”
“Not at all, it’s the straight fact like . . I am . .”
“—Mrs Wroetoshaw!”
“—Mrs Wroetoshaw,” you nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I’m not one of those people who are mad they are known for being their partner because . . they’re like, trying to make a name of themselves . . ?”
“Like Miss Talia Mar.”
“Like Talia! And even Freya like — and as they should, they do their own stuff! I don’t really. I happily — I accept the fact I will probably always be known as Wroetoshaw’s girl before ‘Y/n’. I literally introduce myself to new people as ‘Y/n Wroetoshaw’ rather than my normal name.”
“Really?!”
“Honestly.” You took no offense to it at all.
“Wroetoshaw. Such a weird name.”
“I know. It’s funny, when people are like ‘where’s big W2S?’ or ‘where’s Wroetoshaw’ and I -honestly Grace- the amount of people who talk to me and say where he is and I look at them for a minute like—” you pulled a confused face, “wroetoshaw? Who’s wroetoshaw? What’s that mean?”
Grace laughed loudly at that, holding her drink in her hand as you laughed too. “What, you just forget?”
“I have just never referred to Harry as Wroetoshaw. He’s Harry Lewis to me so I’d say that . . or Harry from Sidemen, like Wroetoshaw doesn’t occur - he hates when I call him Harry Wroetoshaw! I do it when I want to piss him off,” you laughed as she was surprised to hear that. “Yeah, I completely disassociate the name with him for a second.”
“That’s so funny. It’s weird how that has become the household name.”
“Yeah. People refer to is as if it is the last name which . . I mean whatever.”
“No such thing as Y/n Lewis – it’ll be Y/n Wroetoshaw.”
“No literally. It just rolls off the tongue.”
“It does, it does,” she agreed, “anyway! You’re here today to basically . . speak about yourself for once! Share your personality and life goals . . although, probably still dish on your relationship as well.”
“Yeah. I mean it’s a big part of my life,” you held your hand up to the camera, “it’s what the people have came here for.” You both laughed.
“Yeah, why do you not speak much on your relationship? I mean at the same, as much as you're not a secret, you’re private . . you’re also not?” She squinted her eyes, “I feel like quite a bunch know so much about you and if anything . . are fans in a way? Which! Is odd! Because you literally don’t even upload to anywhere! It’s like you have a fanbase without—”
“—without giving much to the fans. What is there to be a fan of?” You laughed.
“Yeah!”
“Yeah! I don’t know really,” you shrugged. “I think . . recently, i’ve been about online more than ever and i’ve fully gave in to the fact that I do have a bit of on online presence,” you explained, “I mean I’ve unprivated my Instagram for the last time and I post on TikTok a bit but more than what I ever thought I would do. I was so set on like . . never being that online.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I think just . . having Harry shield me from the internet, I never got the urge to . . copy him? It was his thing. I mean he already did it so I . . just . . use his clout!”
“Yep! As you should!” Grace clapped, raising her glass. “Cheers to that!”
“Cheers!” You raised yours, “but yeah. It’s just always been something Harry never wanted to bring to light and . . he’s just always savoured that one bit of privacy he has left, I mean he fully exposes himself online: his house, his friends, his family — I don’t know. He’s just never camera to share me like that.”
“Why is that, do you think? Jealousy?”
“Hmmm,” you pondered. “Yeah. Probably. In the long run, yeah, it comes down to protectiveness. Or maybe he just doesn’t want people to see that side to him.”
“So how did this all come about? How did it start? When did he decide this?”
“So . . the first time I was ever in one of his videos, I was literally strolling past the room I think. I knew he was recording and I— I remember, I was in my pyjamas, like some . . top and shorts, holding a cup of tea. I remember wanting to get into his bed but he was recording obviously, so I just left him to it,” you recalled the day like it was yesterday. “His comments that next day,” you opened your mouth.
“Shocking?”
“All the comments were all ‘omg, is that your girlfriend?’ ‘was that your girlfriend in the back?’ ‘your girl’s a smasher mate’ ‘who is she?’ ‘that your bird?’ ‘that who you’re shaggin’?’ ‘she’s fit as fuck’ ‘bring your girlfriend back mate’ ‘get her in mate’, ” you rhymed them off, “I was like 17! I remember he came to me laughing that night in my house like ‘look what everyone’s saying about you’ and we laughed for ages,” you explained, “and then like . . it obviously didn’t mean I wanted to be in his videos, so again, the next time I walked in the back, literally to grab a sweatshirt or something, not trying to interrupt, and the comments went off again — so crude! I remember he was so annoyed!” You laughed, “he was giving off, annoyed at all these lads talking about me, he was so jealous! Screwing his face up like,” it was adorable looking back on it, thinking of his mini fit when he read the comments. A moment of insecurity. “He was furious, he was like ‘you’re never to be in these again, look at what they’re saying about you’.”
“Little 17/18-year-old Wroetoshaw!”
“Literally! I think as well ‘cause they weren’t even talking about his video anymore like what he was actually doing in it?”
Grace laughed. “Bless him. It is weird though, for him to be that age and not . . this is going to sound weird, but you know: use you like that to get more views and subscribers! Instead, he kept you in the dark?!”
“Yeah!”
“Could have exploited you! Got the views in!”
“Yeah! I know!”
“But he didn’t!”
“No! He,” you shrugged, “don’t know. Just didn’t want the people knowing.”
“So this was on his own account? Not even on Sidemen?”
“Before Sidemen, yeah.”
“So . . you were getting hate before Sidemen?”
“I got more hate when Sidemen started, when they blew up, yeah. Before that it was comments like . . ‘oh, Wroetoshaw doesn’t want to show his girlfriend ‘cause she’s ugly’ ‘cause I was definitely not appearing on that channel, and . . Harry didn’t give a fuck. Unbothered.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah. ‘Can’t hurt if it’s not true’ attitude.”
That’s what’d he’d told you.
“So you’ve been dealing with hate for quite some time now, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What was that like? ‘Cause I feel like . . that must have been so odd and unusual for someone like you at that time. I mean seriously—”
“Yeah, it was really odd. I feel like hate is something that’s quite a new thing as the internet progresses so for it back then when you couldn’t do this anonymously and people didn’t think to make fake accounts . . they didn’t have the balls — now, it’s obvs more common so for it back then was . . it was so strange. Like . . who are these random people I don’t even know?”
“Did you cry?”
“Grace, I can wholeheartedly say, the first bunch of hate comments I got — I laughed at.” You held up an honest hand.
She cackled at that, almost choking on her drink as she took a sip. “Shut up!”
“I swear, I remember lying in bed with Harry and we were just scrolling through these comments of people who’d found my Instagram and they were just . . talking shit, really,” you laughed, “I would just click on their accounts and laugh,” you cackled.
“Just didn’t take it seriously.”
“It felt like a joke ‘cause I hadn’t done anything on them and I didn’t understand where it was coming from? And then one day I saw the comment and I can still see her profile picture to this day of the comment from this girl — unusual because it was only boys who watched him so I took this to be their girlfriends or whatever — saying ‘he’s better looking than her’. Or ‘I fancy her bf soooo much’ and I was just like ‘Ohhhhhh’ . . makes sense now.”
“Ahhhhhhhh.”
“Yeah,” you dragged. “So, i’ve kept that mindframe since the start really, which is why I don’t think hate affects me if at all now, ‘cause at the end of the day . . it’s people I don’t know, people I literally owe nothing to and know nothing about. Why should I care about a stranger’s opinion? I don’t know you. And it’s always jealousy.”
“Precisely.”
“No one is below me or above me at the end of the day.”
She snapped her fingers. “Love that.”
“That’s the life motto. Like yeah, he is fit. I fancy him too. I’m— I been shagging him, funny enough! Like what—”
She laughed louder at that, “and as you should,” she wiped her eye, “hm . . and then the Sidemen started to get popular?”
“Then Sidemen started to blow and I was,” you shook your head.
“—slaughtered.”
“In the dirt. I was everything in the book. I-it was honestly shocking.” You responded seriously. “It was so bad.”
“Really?!”
“Like . . people proper hated me. They put a picture up of me in an old, old video for some joke or whatever, and then I was known to everybody, they were able to find my socials and stuff and — I was every name ever. The original gold digger. I was using him for his fame, I didn’t fancy him, I was ugly, I fancied his mate, I was a bitch face, I was a try-hard, I didn’t support him, I was a slut, I was this, I was that — That’s - that was when I privated Instagram for the first ever ‘cause comments were just flooding to the point it was just irritating.”
“You were the original gold digger.”
“Yeah. Then it was Talia. Now it’s Faith.”
“Yeah.”
“. . I still am the gold digger,” you joked.
“HA! That’s brilliant.”
“Going private and like . . hating the camera since then ‘cause I knew these people were watching, I think that’s how I got pinned as like . . ‘Wroetoshaw’s bitchfaced girl’,” you laughed out loud. “In Freezy’s vids, Joe’s - I looked angry all the time and people commented on that.”
“Why do you think that is, even now, out of everyone, you still get it?”
“Me, Faith, Ethan and Harry were in the car like months ago—”
“—double date!”
“—yeah, boys had their romantic dinner, we had ours,” you waved off, “it was when Faith was starting to be the new target and Ethan was saying to Faith the way people didn’t like her ‘cause she is herself and doesn’t play on the whole like . . influencer vibe ‘cause she’s not an influencer? The way I was, like if I were a YouTuber—”
“—Zoella.”
“Yeah! They probably would have taken it better? Faith only is now- but at the time she was like ‘don’t care, that’s not me, not gonna play on it, not gonna fake it’ you know like, feed into their hands to win them over—”
“She said this on the pod, yeah! Like say what they want to hear — like no! Take it with a pinch of salt if you don’t like me!”
“Yeah! Exactly! So my experience was like that, but I feel like — I’m a confrontational person,” you side-eyed the camera, “I have no filter. I say shit how it is, I will give you the energy you are giving me, back. So!” You clapped your hands, “when people started being nasty to me, I was giving that energy back of not wanting to entertain them? And the camera? Like hating the sight of it ‘cause like I said: I could smell the comments from a mile away, and started to just . . play on their interpretation of me?”
“That’s hilarious. Just trolling them.”
“Isn’t it?! Like,” you laughed, “like yeah. You’re right, I am a bitch. What about it?”
“But that must have been so weird, considering the others’ . . girlfriends at the time , I don’t recall getting. .”
“Yeah! None of them got nowhere as near as bad as I got? And I don’t know why?” You pulled a face. “Josh was covering his face at this point and Freya was barely mentioned so it wasn’t like she could advise me ‘cause she wasn’t getting anything! The others weren’t even named, they were living in private, so I was so lost, I didn’t know what I was — what did I do! Clearly like . . too strong of a personality came through somehow or,” you shrugged.
“‘Cause you’re sexy.”
“Mm. Don’t think so.”
“I say so.”
You gave her a playful look.
Love her.
“I think so as well . . I can be a nasty person but I think the biggest misconception about me is that they think I’m like . . nasty for the fun of it? Just ‘cause I think it’s like . . ‘boss bitch’ of me— no? I speak my mind because biting my tongue is not going to sort the situation, I wouldn’t - I have never started on someone for the fun of it. ‘Cause I think I have some authority too. If someone is being a dick to me, I’m not gonna lay down on the ground for them to walk over me — I’ve been like this since school! I was the person who used to confront other peoples bullies,” you laughed pointing to yourself in your passionate rant.
“WERE YOU?!” Grace found that oddly cute but funny at the same time.
“Literally would see some 15-year-old kid getting in some 13-year-old’s face and would just bump into them like ‘who the F you shouting at?’ – I used to pretend eveyone was related to me, I’d be like ‘who do you think you are speaking to my little cousin like that? I’ll have you’ —never meant it! Obviously wasn’t going to drop some 13 year old,” you laughed, “but I used to get called to the principal’s office all the time for it. But it stopped them from being picked on, so.”
Grace was breathless, “I’M DEAD!” she held her stomach, “are you joking?! Just random little Year 7s?”
“Yeah! You know how they are, they’re all so small and intimidated as it is like, I’m not just going to walk by! I would like someone to do the same if it were my sister!”
“You’re a better person than me. I could never. You’re the person I wish I was but . . I couldn’t - I wouldn't have had the energy.”
“Some people just need a good scaring, you know. Sets them straight, and you know what? They never bothered them again.”
“Did you get given detentions or have parents wanting to speak to you?”
“The teachers would pull me and be like - ‘did you, an almost 18-year-old just threaten a Year 10?’ and I’d be like ‘yeah, ‘cause you’re school did fuck all about the bullying problem in it’ and they’d just — couldn’t argue with it, d’you know? Like did they want me to ignore it and proceed to let it happen without their knowledge if was going on, so.” You shrugged carelessly. “I ain’t give a fuck, I hated that place too.”
“Got haters since the beginning.”
“Literally. Haters and bullies — they’re all the same. I’ll sock them all,” you preformed a weak pinch to the camera. “It’s Baffling. Now it’s . . i’ve felt more love than I ever have this past year or so. I think they finally get me, they know what I’m like. Plus, we’re all older, mature. They can take a joke. And also — I’m just not going anywhere, so,” you raised a shoulder.
“YES!”
“Wooo!” You clinked your glasses.
“Your hate fuels her.”
“I’m not mean, everyone’s just soft.” You shrugged again.
“Love to hear it, love to hear it. So, tell us, from the beginning,” she set her glass down, “ . . what time did you pop out at?” You laughed at her joke, filling up your glass. “No, so how — what made you move to London? Who lured you here?”
You thought. “So, really — I did basically come here . . to be with Harry,” you threw her a look because you knew it sounded as insane as it was. “Basically, we weren’t together very long and my Mum was — even if my Mum told me no straight up, I probably would’ve went anyway — I mean I practically did, because what was she gonna do?” You laughed, although you did always feel bad thinking of your poor mother at that time. “I was such an unproblematic child, I did good in school, I always had a job, I had good friends, I didn’t do drugs, I didn’t have a thousand boyfriends — I was such a chill daughter. I mean it was Guernsey to be fair, not much goes on—”
“Yeah, can’t imagine big fuck-off nightclubs over there. Crime rates.”
“No!” You agreed. “But I was good and honestly gave her no bother — never bothered her for money, never had her lie for me — I was a good kid!” You expressed.
“Yep,” Grace nodded, “and then . .”
You laughed at that, “and then I met Harry!”
“Fabulous. You met Harry — it went tits up.”
“It didn’t even, like he was a good boy, it was just . . we weren’t together that long, like maybe just over 6 months if even when he told me he was planning to move to London,” you shared, speaking with your hand.
“And you didn’t want him to go? You didn’t want to break up?”
“I knew it was crazy. I knew if it was anyone else, I would have been the one laughing - like if someone from my year in school told me they were going to move to be with their boyfriend of 6 months, I would have pissed myself. But . . I know it’s cliché and everyone thinks the same but it was honestly different with Harry and I. Like, I knew our relationship was a lot more mature than others our age. I’ve always said it was different. It’s something that always surprises me because I’ve never grown that attached to someone so fast like that in all my life. I am such an independent person and I can be so careless of others — it’s why I don’t give a fuck about confronting people— but I remember laying in my room knowing I was fucked ‘cause I knew I — I would really miss him if he left.”
“You would have been gutted.”
“Yeah. And I always made fun of others my age having boyfriends and girlfriends ‘cause you just know fine rightly they’re not gonna last. Sorry to say but they just don’t. You have so much growing to do and it’s usually inevitable: a year or two max is applaudable. When I first started going with Harry, I thought to myself too ‘we’ll probably be broken up this time in a year’, like I was so realistic.”
“Really?!”
“Yes! I was honest with myself. Didn’t tell him that, obviously. So when he told me about him moving to London I was crushed. He kept telling me he was thinking about it but I knew he was basically telling me.”
“Yeah. Dropping the bomb not so discreetly.”
“Yeah. And if he said straight up like - ‘I’m moving to London. We’re just gonna have to call it quits ‘cause I can’t do long distance and it’s not fair on me or you’ whatever — I would have been like ‘fairs, you’re right. You’re basically 18, you’re finally legal, an adult, you want to go out with your freedom and go . . shag birds and get blackout drunk with your new roommates’.”
“Yeah! ‘Course!”
“Yeah, but he never said it like that, he always — he’d phrase it like he was genuinely torn about going if I couldn’t be there, like we’d be chillin’ in my room, having a good time, laughing and he’d just go ‘yeah I’m not going to London’ and I’d be like ‘no, now come on, London will be amazing’ because I didn’t want to . . hold him back on anything? But like . . I was thinking really hard ways I could get over there that my Mum would approve of because I didn’t want her seeing me anymore as the lovesick teen that I already was. Living in this bubble. Y’know?” You sipped your drink. “So, long story short, I told her I was going to Uni over there — she blew up. She knew I was straight up doing this so I could be with him. Didn’t want me to go, talked me through every possible scenario that would happen. Put her foot down, did not want me to go.”
“Rightly so!”
“Of course! Honestly, at the time I knew it was cruel to do it on her and I was being a prick, a stubborn, selfish prick but—”
“—I mean worked out in the end.”
“Hey ho, it absolutely did,” you winked, “but I look back and my sister is around the same age I was back then and I would absolutely slaughter her if she tried that. I would laugh in her face and tell her to go back to her room because she’s not hearing herself out loud,” you laughed. “But yeah. Enrolled in Uni — hated Uni, never wanted to go, always said throughout school I was never going ‘cause I just hated the idea of being in education with tasks on tasks and coursework and exams to do and — no. Didn’t want to do it. Knew it from I was young — BOOM. Met Harry — needed an excuse that made my point look valid, that made me look good and not like some little . .”
“—slag following her boyfriend.”
“LITERALLY! Who was I trying to fool?! Anyway. I enrolled, got accepted, we moved — been my home ever since.”
“And did you go to Uni?”
“Yeah, I went to Uni. I picked a course to be a teacher.”
“Did you?!”
“Yeah. But I’ll obviously never get a job,” you held up her hand to the camera, “they told me that a year before graduating, they did a faux background check and told me I’d obviously fail ‘cause I ‘had a online footprint’ of whatever even when I wasn’t on vids. But because of the Sidemen age range of viewers, it’s literally all kids, they would know me instantly. And know so much of my personal life because of Harry running his mouth back then.”
“Oh my God! Actually?!” Grace was in shock. “Is that true?!”
“I swear! They were just honest with me so I dropped out. And then I went on to get another job and work. I didn’t mind.” You shrugged.
“Really?!”
“Yeah. So I dropped out. It wasn’t that big of a deal, I didn’t need to move or anything.”
“And you’ve always worked normal jobs, isn’t that right? Calfreezy told me that.”
“Yeah, I’ve had so many jobs. Dispatching jobs over the phone are usually my go-to ‘cause it means I can work from home majority of the time and travel as long as I take the equipment with me. But I worked in nurseries, in shops, in hotels, in offices then at the airport—”
“Why?!”
“I dunno. I guess just so no-one could ever hold anything over me? So I never had to ask for money or whatever. Never liked asking my mum and dad for money so guess it just followed me into adult life.”
“What the hell? While dating a Sideman?”
“I mean it’s his money,” you looked to the camera and muttered “it’s our money. But it’s his money and like — we both know he earns more than I ever will so he would refuse to let me pay equal halfs of something, still to this day. He’d not have me pay for it at all but I’m adamant to give a good amount on my behalf. I’d never let him pay for anything fully on his own. I’m not actually a gold digger.”
“You’re not.” She awed.
“No. Unless it’s obviously a present or something but . . I mean yeah, I like to spoil back. I’d like to be able to say I, funnily enough, pay into our rent too.”
“Did you always live with Harry in London or did you get student accommodation?”
“No, I lived with him, Cal and Lux the whole time.”
“Oh?!”
“Yeah. Lied to them and said I would move out as soon as I made friends and found an accommodation and they were like ‘sweet!’”
“ . . and then you never moved?”
“And then I never moved.” You laughed evilly. “Which — if they had minded and really didn’t want me there and I knew they didn’t want me there - I would have found an accommodation. I would have let them live their little ‘lads! lads! lads!’ plans of running the house and not shadowing Harry but . . they liked me living there. I paid into Harry’s rent or through the getting weekly shop ‘cause they understood I made nowhere near as much as they did.”
“Aw really?!”
“Yeah, which was fucking expensive for 3 boys! And myself! But yeah. They — it was Freezy who said to me one day after I’d brought it up to see if they still wanted me gone, he turned around and was like ‘why would you move out? You’re saving more money living here and it’s just better? Don’t be so stupid, like we have a good system in here’, and it — melted my heart ‘cause I knew I was wanted. I wasn’t just seen as their mates girl who was slumming it and living off him.”
“That’s cute.”
“Yeah. I think it’s ‘cause I was keeping them in check, y’know, the reason the house stayed clean . . made dinners . . worked the washing machine.”
“Probs took the piss with you.”
“Well I thought that too but I made sure they didn’t,” you clicked your nails, “it was kind of like . . I scratched your back, you scratch mine? I’d be doing my washing and check their room like ‘do you need anything cleaned?’ and they’d pass their stuff, then when it came to asking to get the dishes cleaned it was - ‘well I did you laundry and I didn’t have to. I’m asking you to clean your plate you used’, y’know?”
“Boss babe.”
“They obliged most of the time.”
“And if they didn’t?”
“If I asked Callux to clean a mess and he left it for a day — like dishes or after filming a video — i’d shoot Harry a look and he’d be like ‘yeah lads, let’s actually clean up ‘round here’, and it’d be done. Never had to ask anymore than two times. Just a—” you raised your brows at Grace just how you raised them at your man.
She clapped. “Love that for you.”
“Thanks. I find it mad Cal is your manager by the way.”
She gave a heavy sigh, “yeah. The big boss.”
“Mm. Big.”
She burst at your mocking. “Mad you lived with him! For how long?”
“Longer than when Lux was there. I’m talking only a couple years ago we we went our separate ways.”
“Jesus. Why’s that?”
“Just a growing up thing I guess. I loved every moment of it, truly. I can’t even lie. I can’t even joke about it, I loved it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Honestly. If I got given the chance to do it all over again I would. It was the best. I can honestly say -yeah, times got tense and there were pretty arguments- but I would relive it it if I could. The memories in that flat, like . . I love him. Honestly.”
“Did he ever just . . want Harry to himself though? As you said, in a ‘boys only’ way? And Lux?”
“Thankfully, Lux moved out with his girlfriend at the time so he wasn’t here for long, he used to joke a lot about what I was doing there but,” you waved it off, “that’s Lux, biggest wind up. Cal might have but I was never told? I was included in everything. Unless my whole life has been a lie, I felt like Cal wanted me to be there. I included him in our dynamic and he included me in their dynamic? There was no third-wheeling, we were a trio for the longest time, we are our own trio.”
“Yeah! Like it wasn’t like you turned against each other!”
“Yeah! No special treatment or 2 against 1. If I was making dinner, I was making three dishes. Going out? Ironed both their clothes. Don’t get me wrong, Harry and I still had our moments but we’re not PDA people anyway - in the comfort of our own room, yeah, but I’m not gonna . . start necking onto him at the dinner table!”
She laughed at that ide. “So considerate of you.”
“Isn’t it?” You twirled your hair.
“No lack of privacy?”
You pondered. “I mean . . you had the struggles sometimes. I’ve heard Calfreezy’s headboard going, know what I mean?” You both giggled like teenagers, “as he has definitely - probably heard ours.”
“—I think everyone’s heard your headboard banging, love.” His voice sounded from the side of the set where he’d peaked his head in.
You immediately barged him, “HEY! Don’t come invading my interview now!”
“Do what I want! It’s my set!”
“Get out!” You pointed to the door, laughing at his appearance.
He flipped you from the door and left with a laugh, and you chuckled in your seat, taking a sip of your drink. “Sometimes. Like usual stuff, probably like having a sibling through. Them playing their music over yours or just coming in to bother you when you’re doing something. Tolerable though.”
“So, what’s it like dating a Sideman/Sidemen? I asked Faith and Talia when they came on here like . . how do you feel about certain videos? How do you feel about Sidemen Tinder?” Grace started the next subject.
Your shoulders slouched and your face deadpanned and she slapped her knee, knowing she was in for a great one. You were the best one to get asked.
“I . . ok. I get it. I get it gets the views up. I understand it’s the most popular type of vid,” you reasoned, “but . .”
“But!”
You grinned, biting your tongue a little. “I . . I mean I might get annoyed a little bit if he mentions it, I'm not necessarily jumping and clapping excitedly when he tells me they’re gonna be filming one. I have no issue on his side of things, he doesn’t mean them. He’s being funny, it’s for the camera, they don’t know he has a wife waiting at home.”
She laughed at that.
“But . . I mean even if they do — it all depends on the girl. You have some really nice ones and you have some . . not nice ones? I don’t know what it is about Harry but he seems to be the favourite of some kind — not to be biased because he’s mine,” you jokingly hair flipped, “but I feel like the girls are always aiming for him, or at least it feels that way. I don’t get that angry, it’s his reaction that makes it bearable, I love how awkward he gets when he gets complimented or they say they prefer him?! I’m proud almost!”
“No!”
“Yeah! Like there are some lovely girls. But . .” you closed your eyes, “the ones who . . make it personal - they’re the ones who ruin it.”
“What’d you mean by that?” She bit her nail.
“Like, if they make the comment of like,” you could feel you blood slowly rising at the thought, “‘you should leave that girlfriend of yours again’ or like—”
“NO!”
“Cunts.”
“NOOO!”
“Like do not be so fucking disrespectful you inconsiderate cow.”
“PLEASE!”
“Like I will send you a photo with my man in my ass — do not test me.”
Grace was gasping for air, and even you felt a little blush at saying something so vulgar. “Like,” you laughed a little, “there — it’s so rude! So un-girl coded!” You ranted. “There is no need to make it personal! It always feels personal when it gets to me!”
“It does, it does. They try to come for you, babe.”
“They do! They have a go! I’m like — it’s a game! It’s supposed to be fun! It’s not fucking real you fuckin’ . . bitch.”
“Weirdos. They think they actually have a shot.”
“YEAH!”
“Have you ever really gotten upset over one? Or a video in general?”
“I have got upset maybe once or twice, but only ‘cause it’s got personal and Harry maybe hasn’t said something the way I would have wanted to? Confrontational junkie,” you threw a peace sign at the camera. “Yeah. Definitely argued over it with him, I think all of us have with our lad. I mean that time I was like ‘Harry why’d you have to keep that bit in?’ ‘cause it was rude.”
“I would be swinging.”
“Trust me, I’ve wanted to. Oh my God — have you seen the American one tney did in the USA?” She shook her head no, “there were girls who flashed them?”
“I BEG YOUR FUCKIN’ PARDON?!”
“YEAH! They straight up flashed them all, like?” You had to laugh with Grace about it, “d’you see what I mean! Stuff like that I’m like ‘what the fuck, now c’mon’.”
“What did Harry do?!”
“He closed his eyes, actually. Flung around in an instant, literally as if it were on instinct.” You laughed, beaming. “He’s a good boy.”
“Good lad!” Grace praised with a clap.
“No I literally rewarded him like a dog. I remember watching it and stroking his hair like ‘good boy’. ‘Well done’.”
She laughed into the back of her hand. “Well done! Brownie points for you later!”
“How outta pocket though?”
“It is weird. Did the other boys close their eyes?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’d like to believe so!” You laughed, “It does get easier as the years go on. I feel like Harry gets awkwarder and awkwarder as it goes on. He doesn’t — he can’t . . he literally can’t make eye-contact with women. With anyone, almost, he’s gotten so strange.”
“You’re killing me,” she fanned herself.
“Seriously! He wasn’t like that when he was younger! I don’t get him!” You laughed.
“He did seem more unhinged, younger.”
“He still is, I’ll not lie.”
“He just hides it better?”
“Yeah.”
“What was your favourite era? Like, did you prefer when he was small and not known? Attic days? The Sidemen house? Did you like the hype around, what was it, disstrack era?” She swiftly moved on, finding it the perfect way to merge.
“Ooo.” You were impressed.
Grace nodded, “ooo, yeah! Did me research! Disstrack era!” She pretended to drop a mic.
“Did you listen to them?!”
“‘Course babe. I know my man was getting pussy every day.”
You cackled loudly at that, having to set down your drink on the table.
“I think my favourite time is . . I like time now. I like the settled vibe from everybody, I love the girls. I mean the boys are the exact same, they haven’t lost their ‘spark’. They’re still as childish and as reckless at times; still have their boyish ways but they’re just . . more mature and have their women at home now. It’s funnier now that they’re older, I feel?”
“They just have wives now.”
“Literally. Yeah, I like now. Disstrack era was peak almost - got slaughtered around that time when JJ brought me up in his diss, yeah, I got dug up. If no one knew about me by then, they knew now.” You smiled. “Yeah I liked that era. Harry was,” you shrugged, “yeah. Acing it. Fit little shit he was.”
Grace laughed at you. “Edit central!”
“The jawline that could cut your finger,” you traced along yours, thinking of his looks back then.
“That was his savage era.”
“It was. The Versace dressing gown unlocked something in him. Although, I literally remember after recording that absolute slander, he’d took us to come weekend away to do all couple-y stuff. Being a suck-up as usual,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Have a good cuddle in the Versace gown.”
“Aw really?!” She awed.
“Yeah! Harry's such a softie at times.”
“Can he be clingy?” She wandered.
“Oh my days, of course! Isn’t everyone?” You swooned, “yeah, he can be clingy when he wants to be,” you shared that look of . . we all know how clingy they can be. How much they liked to be babied. “It would surprise you how relaxed and quiet he can be.”
She raised her brows.
“Like he does have his hyper ways but he can be so chill,” you moved your hands in a horizontal line as you spoke. “Very calm.”
“It’s funny ‘cause I know everyone is obviously not how they are on camera 24/7 but it’s something you wouldn’t think so much but - I can see it now that you say, a very relaxed sod.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Adorable.”
You smiled. “. . what were we talking about? Oh yeah! I mean I’ve witnessed every era so . . have my SDMN shirt from 2014 or whenever. Every merch released ever.”
“DO YOU?!”
“Yeah!” You flexed, “do my makeup in ‘em. I’ll say Disstrack era just ‘cause it was a perfect balance of everything then. Popular, not too popular, making bank, loved up, legal and able to do things, being a youngster. Yeah. Being young and sexy.”
“Vibes all around. Running London at this point.”
“Felt like it.”
Grace snapped her finger like a boss. “You’ve lived the life.”
“I have.” You smiled proudly. “Although, old, old Sidemen was peak. When they were making videos in the house and in gardens and stuff, renting out pitches or whatever. I got to see Harry a lot more. But then,” you twisted your head while backtracking, “I see him enough as it is now?! That’s just me being . .”
“Clingy girlfriend?”
“Clingy girlfriend, yeah.” You shrugged. “I don’t mind when they travel so much anyway. I’m just as bad now.”
“Seen some places?”
“Perks of dating a Sideman.”
She laughed. “What’s been your favourite country to see? Any romantic getaways? Best holiday? Do you tag along regularly?”
“Not so much when I was younger with work and uni and stuff. Now — always. Especially now nobody cares if I’m in shot or not. The girls sometimes all come along and do their own thing when it’s during events or something, like if we’re in Dubai together. We get to spend the day together whilst they make a video while they’re over there. But yeah, I get in on the experience now on shoots. Out of everyone, I’m probably tagging along the most now, just ‘cause everyone has their own thing going on. But I mean Talia tagged along on the Japan trip, and I went on the snow trip so,” you shrugged, “yeah, if we can. If they say it’s cool for us to be there. Harry asks me to be there ‘cause it’s a holiday once all the footage is captured and we can just stay longer, know what I mean?”
“That sounds fucking mint, oh my God. How do I get Billy in there?”
You laughed at her. “I’ll bring you sometimes. But, yeah, I definitely seen some places. Very blessed that way, my life doesn’t feel real at times,” you threw your head blissfully against the head of the chair as you reflected on the millions of memories you’d created over the years with a very special boy. “We’ve been to Italy, we’ve been to France. The Bahamas. Ibiza. Mykonos. Thailand. Ireland. Liverpool. Manchester. Amsterdam. Benidorm. Portugal. L.A—” you rhymed off, “everywhere, it feels like. Sometimes only for a couple days, but we been there.”
“Jesus, you’ve seen the world. What’s been your favourite? Where’s your go-to?”
“I mean Ibiza is our fav,” you gave her a knowing look, “for multiple reasons. We love a group holiday as much as just ones on our own, always there with friends.”
Memories of the hotel and villas you’d stayed in. The festivals. The drunk singing to each other. The sloshed antics. The excitement. Pools in your gardens and the scorching hot sun. The outfits, the food, the endless cocktails when out for dinner. Getting to sit out under the night sky for hours on end, not needing anyone else’s company after they’d all gone to bed and you two could sit and chat shit on anything and everything; gossip on friends, share opinions, question theories. Walking the streets of the city, hand in hand, comparing tans, seeing people eye you both because omg, what a hot couple. It was your favourite.
“Have you been on holiday with Chip?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t. I know,” you shared that same look with a nod of your head. “I’ve tried to drown him so many times in the ocean, let’s not.” You’d tried to drown a lot of his friends.
“So Ibiza?”
“We love Amsterdam too. It was one of our first city breaks. We got a lock for the bridge, Love Lock they call it? Where you write your names on it and lock it to the bridge? We try to find it every time we go. It’s probably about 10 years old now.”
“Oh my god, actually?! That’s so cute, Y/n,” she covered her mouth in awe.
“Yeah. Been there since we were like 18. I’ll see if I can find a photo of it. Gets rustier and rustier every time we see it.” You flicked through your phone.
“That's adorable. I need to do that with Billy.”
“You should! And if you break up then whatever . . think of the amount of couples' names still locked on it,” you shrugged. “Yeah, been to Amsterdam.”
“Do drugs?”
“Course. Saw the red light district–”
“—I woulda been covering his eyes the whole time.”
“He was covering mine too, it’s alright,” you waved, “stayed on a boat one time. Rode bikes. Went to museums. Heineken factory. Saw the iconic stuff. Smoked spliffs. Ate waffles. Yeah. I like that ‘cause it reminds me of the start of our relationship, so it’s very sweet. Went to Benidorm saw Sticky Vicky, went on the piss. Went to Dubai, rode bikes in the desert, the only kind of driving he does—”
Hearing your stories just made Grace think of how close you both were, in the way of finding a friendship in each other. You really didn’t need anybody else. You could be one of his boys and he could be one of your girls.
“I think Bahamas, or any Carribean place is our holiday place. The blue waters, the little huts you stay in: that’s our holiday destination ’cause we’re actually vacationing, you know? It’s relaxed. Harry is unwinding, he’s completely laid back. You know he’s completely relaxed when he doesn’t even bring his phone out. PDA in full swing, lives for the privacy. enjoying the moment. Like we’re abandoned on an island. It’s the only place we don’t really take the piss, think it’s the only place we don’t have a hangover.”
“That sounds fucking lush right now. Sipping on a coconut—”
“—Piña Colada. Bathed in oil, tan lines, swimming in clear water, stunning beaches - love it.”
“Goals. Reminds me of that I Got U music video, y’know the one—”
“LOVE THAT SONG! Such a good music video. That’s our holiday song.”
“IS IT?!”
“Yeah,” you grinned. “That’d be Harry’s idea of bliss. Living on an island like that. He doesn’t feel the need to go hard.”
“It’s the island vibe, innit?”
“Yeah. Removes every wrinkle and grey hair on my face,” you finished your drink and Grace laughed at you. “I like everywhere. Anywhere we go is a good time. We love travelling, we love a hot holiday, we love a snowy holiday,” you shrugged, “I mean we pitch a tent in a field and it’s a blast, know what I mean? We enjoy anywhere we go.”
“That’s goals right there, absolute goals,” she waved a finger, reading her list for her next topic. “IN SAYING THAT—”
“Oh fuck.”
“Pour yourself a drink, babe.”
You began pouring your vodka.
“I discovered . . there was a little tiff a couple years before lockdown between you both.”
You poured the vodka more than halfway.
“Can we. . dive into that? Nothing too personal, of course. Feel free to tell me to fuck off.”
“Ok,” you laughed, adding a seltzer.
“I’m mainly intrigued by your thought process behind that, because although it wasn’t the most publicised break up, it was more public than most regular break ups. I mean you were still a normal person, how was that? Was the hate bad?”
“Hate got bad around that time, yeah, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I was off social media, I had new secret accounts created to keep in touch with friends and such without notifications going off for all those guys.”
“You just ignored it?”
“Yeah. Easier than you think.”
“Really? What was it like? Would you say it was more of a chill breakup or slightly on the traumatic side? Because I imagine your life changed more than his did when you both left?”
You adjusted your mic. “I mean yeah, it did. I went back to Guernsey and lived with my mum and dad again. Hated life. Was a very angry person,” you explained, “was angry at a lot of things, at a lot of people. And was lost to say the least.”
“What went through your head? ‘Cause I understand it’s a personal thing and nobody else’s business, you probably didn’t want to share much but . . was there times when you wanted to like . .” she nudged you, “let out the toxic queen we all have inside us?”
You laughed, swirling your drink. “I mean I did have my moments of thinking ‘ . . ok but what’s the worst that could happen if i did this?’ but I knew I would never. He was a good boyfriend! It wasn’t toxic! It’s never been toxic! It was a sad reason to have had to break up, very frustrating but never toxic. I hated him because I loved him and cared so much about him, not because he’d done something on me and . . you know?”
“‘Course, course. It wasn’t a bad breakup, morals wise.”
“Yeah.”
“What went through your head with it all, do you regret it?”
“I don’t regret it because . . I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason,” you deadpanned. “My Nan always said stuff to me like ‘no rain, no flowers’ , ‘you need the dark to see light’. All that stuff. Basically everything happens for a reason. There is a timing for all - at least in my mind. So, I like to think if it didn’t happen – we might not be where we are today?” which was the scariest thought ever. “Whatever happened, has happened and it’s led us to now which I wouldn’t change for the world. I would do it over again if I had to if it meant I’d be with him like now: happy and healthy and still as obsessed with each other. At the time though—” you paused, thinking about it. “It’s tricky. I was very conflicted at the time, it felt like my brain was in many places at once, and didn’t know what decisions to make? I don’t know how to explain how I felt, I just wasn’t myself. I was so . . angry all the time. You could not talk to me or I would just go off.” You had to laugh. You were driving the whole family insane “I think patience is everything. Let’s things take they course. See how they play out. That was probably the most patient I’ve ever been and Harry has ever been.”
“No contact?”
“No contact. If he had tried to contact me or tried something, as much as I’d thought about it -if he had said about hooking up even just once as a toxic-ex fling moment- I probably would have never gotten back with him.”
“REALLY?!”
“Yeah.” You grinned. “I don’t know, that would have finished if for me I feel. So it really was a moment of testing like . . does he blow it for one last time together and end all possibility . . or does he wait it out for like . . the 5% chance of us getting back to together?”
“Did you ever think you’d not get back together?”
“Until he got with somebody else, I realised like . . he really isn’t mine to take . . whenever I want.”
Grace scoffed. “That’s a lie. He would drop anyone for y— we all know he would probably cheat o—”
You spat your drink out into your glass again, trying not to laugh at her savage take. “GRACE!”
“What?!”
You shook your head. “I— actually, now that you say that— don’t make me laugh. Stop. Cut that out, I wasn’t laughing then. I don’t want to seem spiteful when I say this.” You pointed to the camera.
“OOOO! Evil bitch! Let’s hear it!” She smacked her armrest.
“No, it’s just - you can cut this ‘cause it is mean, even though I didn’t say it but I’m bragging,” you looked at her, feeling giddy at the thought. “Harry obviously - he’s very nasty when he’s drunk - never to me, but he gets in this mind frame where he becomes very . . hatful.”
“Okay.” She nodded, amused at that information. Almost laughing.
“And one time, a few weeks after we got back together, we were out with friends, just chillin’ in the club and I dragged him away ‘cause I knew he was gonna start,” you explained, “and he went off on this rant about his exes when we were apart, saying stuff like ‘I never spent money on them the way I did on you’ and ‘I used to order your dishes when we went out to eat’. ‘I bought them all your favourite things and used to make them your style of tea on accident ‘cause I couldn’t be arsed’.” You giggled into your hand, thinking of how heartbreaking that would have been to heat on the other end, but you weren’t, so it was funny.
It was flattering and really fucking hot.
“He was like ‘I hated spending my money on them and lending them my clothes, I used to ask for them right back’.” You mimicked his malicious words before adding your favourite. “‘I never used to leave their pyjamas out for them coming home on a night out or helped them take their makeup and shoes off ‘cause they could do it themselves. I didn’t love them the way I loved you!’.”
“I never used to leave their pyjamas out for them coming home— I’M DEAD!” The blonde sat with her hand on her chest, her mouth agape as she could have listened to you go on forever. “STOP!”
“Is that not like . . the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?”
“YES?! Oh my God!” She looked to the camera, “that would - I would be sobbing hysterically if I was one of those girls right now hearing this,” she burst out laughing. “Oh my God!”
“Yeah, maybe leave it out. He’s the malicious one, not me.” You winked.
“You are.”
“Not as badly.”
She laughed louder. “Oh my God, that is so romantic. If Billy doesn’t say that to me one day, I’m going to be fucking fumin’,” she looked at you again.
“I mean, I don’t think you’d want him talking about exes, period!”
“That is true, that is true. I couldn’t deal with ex— I couldn’t even discuss a breakup I don’t think. I wouldn’t know what way I would react to talking about it, it would depend on how it ended, innit?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Does it bother you talking about it?”
“Hmmm. Not really. It’s just confusing; frustrating trying to put a description to an emotion. I feel weird ‘cause I’m like . . how did we do that to each other? I mean I’m glad in a way we split, but I also wish it never had to come to that? I wanted to be with him but I didn’t. I wanted to go running back to him but I forced myself not to. I would cry over him and others — he would make me so, fucking, angry. Like I wanted to fight him.” Grace laughed as you punched your other hand. “It’s . . it’s almost traumatic. Things just switched up and I didn’t know the reasoning behind it — ‘cause he knew how I felt about something and I knew how he felt and we just weren’t being what the other wanted?” you gave an awkward face because you felt bad saying that, “I take it as an immaturity thing and growing up a little slower than the other, or too quickly in the other’s case.”
“That makes perfect sense.”
“It does! And it’s like . . we want the other to have their fun obviously, we’re always on the same page on a lot but that was always our major difference and it was always gonna be grey, grey area. I know some people have really bad experiences in relationships and break ups but mine does — it just messed with my mind because I genuinely didn’t know what to do. I got so overwhelmed all the time and frustrated ‘cause I didn’t know how to deal with it? I’ve never had these extreme emotions before?”
“So what you’re telling me is you were hysterical over a boy you broke up with but were angry at others for not telling you to get back with him.”
You laughed. “I sound as if someone took my child off me, it’s awful!” You half-facepalmed. “A big thing of like . . I don’t want him but I don’t want anyone else to have him?”
“Oh my days, me.” She quickly joked. “I think that’s young love for you. That’s what they mean when they say it’s really mentally damaging when you get with someone at a young age!”
“I get that completely. I wouldn’t say I’m emotionally dependent on him though, dependant on him for anything,” you shook your head, “my Mum said this when we started dating, and I get it. I used to say the same about people in my class in school: they date these people at a young age and when they break up, they have no personality at 18. 19. They don’t know who they are. I’m not like that, it wasn’t like that, I like to think I have – we both have quite the personality outside each other. I think Harry just brought me out of a mind frame I was stuck in beforehand that I was scared I would go back to that before? Like this inner turmoil I dealt with on my own. Truthfully, and it may be the vodka talking now, but I think I didn’t realise how lonely I was before Harry?” you raised your glass. “Very self-defensive. Very misjudged? My mind — I felt like I was in somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, and it’s odd because I’m so close to my family and I grew up in a loving, happy home I wouldn’t change for the world . . but,” you shrugged, “I got in my head a lot. Sometimes I still do. Inwardly anxious and I never told my Mum or anyone how I was feeling - which she will hate me to admit, but that’s how I am. I don’t get upset, I get angry. I get stressed. When we broke up, it was probably the most my Mum saw me like . . heartbroken about something. Didn’t see me as a selfish, cold-hearted cow,” you chuckled. “This podcast turned very deep Grace, I do apologise!” You looked at the camera, laughing with your glass in your hand.
“I’m here for it babe, an all exclusive! Keep going if you want!” She raised her glass, reaching for your hand to squeeze comfortingly, “I feel like a therapist!”
You laughed so loud at that. “I’m fine. I promise it’s all good. I’m very happy. Well fell in love all over again.” You drunkly cheesed for the camera.
“She just feels sad for her younger self.”
“Yeah! Exactly! I wish she had someone like me now,” you cheers-ed to the camera, “tell someone how you’re feeling. Open up. Slide into my DMs if you want. Life it better with friends. I just had none of my own.”
Grace’s drink trickled out of her mouth at the sad joke. “For fuck’s sake. Why don’t - why didn’t you speak to your Mum? Or sister about it?”
“Oh I was hell for my Mum. For my whole house. D’you know that bit in Euphoria where - is it Cassie? Who like — screams at her Mum, she’s like ‘you don’t have to, I can fucking feel it!’” you perfectly mimicked the scene, “that was me. And then the Mum goes ‘oh she needs a fucking exorcism.’” Yeah that was her.
Grace laughed so loudly, because although she didn’t even know your Mum, from what she’d heard, she could so see that occurring in your poor household. “Why?!”
“‘Cause she would ask dumb questions! Or she’d like, not speak his name and I’d be like, ‘you can just say Harry, y’know’” you mocked your bitchy tone, “and then she’d say his name casually in conversation and i’d be like ‘STOP SAYING HIS FUCKING NAME!!!’ and it was just a disaster. It was awful, I knew I was really horrible, like my family understood I was going through something - did they make it out that I made out it was a bigger deal than it was? Yeah. Was it a bigger deal than it was? Yeah?” You guessed.
“I mean i’m sure it had its own circumstances that made it feel a little different from your regular break-up. I know they're all hard but everyone has their own thing.”
“Yeah!” You looked at her wholesomely, “things no-one might not even know about or understand.”
“Your poor Mum. I’m sure your sister thought you were a psycho.”
“No honestly, I didn’t like myself. The thing was that . . I felt like everyone was looking at me like I was a psycho over a silly little break-up and I wanted them to know that it’s not - it was that a bit but like . . it wasn’t, it was mo— it was kind-”
“—Jesus Christ, you’re explaining to me now and my head is — I couldn’t have lived in that house with you.”
Now you were laughing at Grace. Yeah. You just didn’t make sense.
“It’s my emotions, I don’t — I do get sad but there is a very, very thin between my sadness and anger and I think they just fused together and — it was just not good for anybody,” you shamefully laughed.
“But I mean you got over it eventually. What happened there? What was your turning point?”
“I wouldn’t say there was a specific point, there was a lot of things that led up to it but I remember a conversation with my Mum, probably the first heart-to-heart with the woman. I’m not one for being like that with my Mum, as much as she would like. My sister is, she would go to her for any problem, big or small, but i’m more of a . . I’ll get over it, it’ll pass, I can sort it myself, you know? But um . . . I was struggling with this and I didn’t know . . I just was waiting for it to get sorted, for it to pass?” you tucked your hair behind your ear as you recalled the day. “I was getting ready for a family event and I really didn’t want to go. We were broken up for ages but I just remember really not wanting to go and my Mum was forcing me to get ready and do it but I was depressed sitting at my vanity. Really dreading it—”
“Why?”
“‘Cause all my family were there -and I love my family, I’m a big family person- but it was . . it would be - I just knew everyone would be asking about it and what happened and how we were getting on which is fine, they’d probably make jokes and stuff but I — I just knew I wouldn’t be able to cope. I’d take it bad. I wouldn’t be able to fake my mood for so long. I’d - I just knew I was gonna be all emotional. My aunties and cousins - they’d be like ‘yeah! Don’t need him anyway!’ ‘fuck him! You’re a gorgeous girl! I’ll get you one of my mates’, ‘come on go out on the piss! Get your tits out!’ and I love them for that,” you grinned at Grace’s jealousy at the sound of your family, “but I just . . I felt like a weirdo, like the black sheep. But my Mum was like ‘get your fuckin’ makeup on and let’s go’ and I got on with it. But then she came in, I was ready, sitting at my table, makeup and hair done, waiting for her to get me. And I think she just saw me and . . I don’t know. Something about the little bored look on my face pulled ar her heartstrings,” you laughed.
“Showed you mercy.”
“Yeah. But basically she just started - she knew Harry had something to do with it - it always came down to Harry.” You scoffed.
“Probably knew it was the first time you didn’t have him there or to talk about at a family event.”
“Yeah. Exactly,” you sipped your drink, “but we ended up not going, I sobbed to her in my room, the both of us laying on my bed, she was just comforting me, being like - ‘this is the most grown up thing you’ll probably ever do,’ like ‘you’ve done it yourself, you’ve made these decisions ’cause you know they’re right for you, for the both of you. This is your coming of age moment,’ and I was like ‘I know, I know but I just miss him’ and she was like ‘Y/n, that’s fine! You’re allowed to miss him. He was in your life every day’ and it got to a point where she was like - ‘you’re worried about him. That’s your issue, you’re scared somethings gonna happen to him while you’re apart and you need to get out of that mind frame,’ and I was like ‘yes, Mum. Exactly’.”
“Y/n . . that’s so sad,” Grace have you a concerned look, “that’s so dramatic!”
“Thought he was gonna die without me,” you placed a hand on your heart as you pulled a joke. “No but that’s what my anxiety was all about! I didn’t know what all these people were up to now: his friends, his family, the girls — and I just thought what would happen if I wasn’t there?!” You shared your thought process, “I was just convinced something was going to happen and I would just . . blame myself. Literally sound like a mother letting their child go to their first sleepover or something,” you laughed as she did. “It’s weird! I know! I know,” you threw four hands up. “But anyway! She grabbed me and was like ‘whatever happens has nothing to do with you. You have nothing to do with him. Stop worrying about him, he’s fine. He’s perfectly fine, Y/n. Nothings gonna happen to him.’ Started making fun of it going: ‘he’s living in London with his best mates, look at his job for a living, look at his income, the places he can see, how young he is - he has no rules, he — he literally lives the life, he’s doing fine without you! You need to stop worrying about him!!!’ and I was like ‘she’s so right.’ And then I apologised for everything, the way I was behaving - cried some more ‘cause I felt bad, but that was a big moment for me. Like I did choose this for myself because it was in the best interest for us both. And it clearly worked out because look at us now.”
“Was your Mum angry you got back together?”
You shook your head. “She . . I think she knew how much things had changed when we got back - how we both changed a lot before getting back together so it didn’t look so . . stupid?” you tilted your head. “Like we actually grown up. She had a positive feeling about it? She said to me not that long ago — we have our regular heart-to-hearts now,” you flexed to the camera, “she was saying that she was talking to her friend who was asking about us and said something like — I look at you both now and think ‘oh goodness, no, you couldn’t take him away from her now, or take her away from him!’ I think she sees now . . how it’s always been? It’s so different now, getting back together made us both realise how . . fucked it was for us to be a part,” you have a coy laugh, “like that’s not supposed to happen, it’s not supposed to be that way. And yeah. Even more now, we’re both so stuck to another. I’ve never — I’ll never have a relationship like this again.” You stated.
Your host gave you a particular smile, your words having some kind of impact on her that had a funny feeling in her chest. It was painfully sickening in the most loving way. “You’re, like, soul-tied.”
“I think we are, you know.”
“You were just having your coming-of-age moment.”
“I was!” You laughed, “I was lying on my bed after, starring at the ceiling, tears dried like, ‘this is my coming-of-age moment. This is my main character moment,’” you laughed with her.
“I’m dead. She thought she was that bitch. I’d think so too,” she snapped her fingers, “it’s part of the plot.”
“It’s for the plot!”
“So you - so you missed him but you didn’t want to keep up with him, did you?”
“Sort of. Well . . no, ‘cause I knew to get over it, I had to block him out.”
“To block him period.”
“Exactly,” you held your hand out, “it felt like I knew what he was up to, even though I was never asking? I wasn’t checking in on him or keeping a tab or anything . . like . . if he was alive, I was happy” you both burst out laughing ‘cause of how coarse that sounded.
“Bless. You must have loved him ‘cause you didn’t wished death on him.”
“Exactly,” you raised your glass, laughing some more. “No I wasn’t stalking socials or texting friends to ask ‘cause I genuinely didn’t care - I didn’t want to care but I think word just got out and I’d find out things, y’know?”
“Yeah. Like in the club, people mention something but you genuinely just don’t give a shit.”
“Yeah. It was that thing of like . . I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I never hear a thing about it — that was the mindset I had. I still wanted him to do well.” You looked at her understandably. “Didn’t necessarily wish him the best but whatever kept food on his table,” you cackled more.
“Jesus Christ, couldn’t have been me. I’d be praying for their downfall.”
“GRACE!” You laughed. “I was glad to know he was ok . . still working away, had his friends by his side but I didn’t need details about what he was getting up to. Like if he appeared in . . ChrisMD’s insta post of them on a night out or in Ibiza or some shit — I didn’t care, I was jealous, I wasn’t upset, I didn’t wish him a shit night, I just swiped past. That was me ‘keeping up’,” you air-quoted. “And if I ran into friends, I didn’t ask about him. I was asking about everyone, you know?”
“Were any of the boys bitchy to you? You know how girls are with their mates ex?” She laughed.
“No! Honestly never. No,” you shook your head, leaving it at that.
“Did you ever run into family members?”
“Yeah! Both siblings,” you nodded, “running into them though, again, I was only ever focused on them, and it was such a relief because I genuinely - they are my world. I wanted to know exactly how they were doing and what they were up to. I didn’t want to hear about their brother and I think they knew that. I wanted to hear about Josh and his job or Rosie in Uni like - and they always talked away. I was more in contact with Rosie online because I followed her on my secret account. Cutting Josh slack, he was a teenager, you know - you don’t give a fuck about anything at that age, do you?”
“Absolutely. That’s adorable though! So they happily talked to you?”
“Yeah! Rosie would text me whenever about anything and everything if something came up; always reacted to my stories and asked where I was going and stuff. Then I ran into Josh at a festival once with his friends and — I was like a mother! I was like ‘are you ok! How are you getting home! Who are you staying with?! Do you need any money? Do you want a drink? Are you keeping cool?’. I remember thinking he’s so grown up now. Towering over me, looking more and more like his brother, he — he’s my favourite boy. So I remember staying with him for a bit and dancing, probably embarrassing him in front of his friends—”
“That’s fucking adorable.”
“Isn’t it?” You frowned, “just came up to me, tapped my shoulder hugged me and - ugh! Melts my heart that boy.”
“Bless him.”
“I mean sometimes. He’s still a cheeky shit at times,” you looked to the camera with your hand still on your heart. “But yeah. I missed them both a lot. That was another big factor in the heartbreak ‘cause I fucking love his family!” You groaned as she laughed.
“Alright. Moving on. Before you have me revealing my trauma and we all start crying again,” she adjusted in her seat. “I mean, you overcame it and figured it out on your own and became a boss babe again, which is all that matters at the end of the day.”
“Yeah!”
“Did you actually date anyone else after that? Any new boyfriends? Girlfriends?” She perked a brow.
You raised your brows at that. “Funny you say that—”
“Oh my God, stop it. Actually - shall we do a shot? I’m loving today!”
“YEAH! Always!”
She got up to sort you both. You waited innocently in your chair, sending Harry a text to let him know how you were getting on.
“Def in my top 5. Get Harry on for me next time.”
“I actually will!” You promised. “I will — honestly, I’ll do my best.”
“Bribe him with the drink.”
“Trust me I will.”
“Cheers sexy.”
“Cheers!” You emptied the tiny glass of clear liquid.
“ERGH!” Your host immediately began coughing while you closed an eye to make sure you hadn’t missed a bit.
“So! Boyfriends? Girlfriends? Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Well,” you crossed a leg over the other, “I might have met this girl one night in the club?”
“Oh?! Carry on.”
“She — I’ve never met anyone like that before, i’ve never been drawn to a person like that before? I was captivated by her the moment I met her, the minute we began talking. I just wanted to know more, more, more.” You leaned closer to dish.
“Down bad!”
“Literally had me in a trance, I was like a lost puppy. I’ll not say her name but she was the first person to really grab my attention since getting over Harry. Or partially. But I met her at the start of the night and we talked - was literally entranced, got on like a house on fire. I’ve never felt so . . I don’t know! So into a person so quickly! It was insane! She was insane. I blame her for making me put myself back out there.”
“A goddess?!”
“Literally. A weekend blurred into one, went out first night, met her, spent the night, next day, went out again to a different club — it felt like a fever dream. A quick-forming friendship.”
FLASHBACK
“Are you alright? You have this . . little lost look about you, love?” She grinned at your face, hand cupping your cheek. You’d been talking all night, falling in love with everything she had to say. She was just you.
At first intimidating, but she was soft in the way she explained things, caring nature in the way she kept asking if you were okay and preoccupied with a drink. A comforting hand always touching you.
Her eyes were captivating, scary to look at first but hypnotizing. Her makeup was stunning, strong cheekbones, bold brows, her lips naturally full. Her hair was dark with a dyed streak, the same as her current acrylic nails, and you were jealous of the multiple piercings she had. She made you feel inferior for once.
You were lost for words. What did you say? This was only one of the few things you were trying to get back out there when you didn’t necessarily want anyone.
“I’m fine,” you smiled, feeling like putty in her hand.
She was in awe of you. Her finger rubbed your cheek gently as she inched closer, the both of your tucked cozily in the corner of the dark room, the music loud and lights flickering. “Are you nervous?”
You shook your head. You just . . had butterflies.
She chuckled at you, lashes touching her cheekbones, “you’re so cute,” she whispered, sensing you’d followed her lead, fluttering your eyes closed and inching forward, locking lips for the second time tonight.
She was smart. She was mature. She knew what she wanted. She was caring and clearly loving from how she’d described her friends and family; she thought a lot of them. She was funny. Cheeky, better described. Naturally flirty. She gave you a run for your money.
“Have you ever been with a girl?” She’d asked you at the bar.
You shook your head — no, but you were ready more than ever to be so. You weren’t even nervous, you were eager.
You had her thinking about the future already. How you’d easily slot into her life. How you would suit living in her apartment. How her friends would adore you and family dote on. You were perfect. You were fucking stunning. A steal. Where had you been hiding? Who was that boyfriend who’d let you go? It was pathetic how mesmerised she was by you.
Sitting in that booth, getting tingles down your spine and butterflies in your stomach as she ran her hands all down you, you felt as if something had finally unlocked in you. Felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Holding your waist as your moved your lips against each others’, bodies burning for more friction, she finally pulled away, fingers in your hair, looking at you with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m going to go to bathroom and we’ll go. Want to come?”
You nodded, getting to your feet as she helped you, reaching for her bag, digging into it as you headed near the bathroom doors. “Do you . .” she lowered her voice, “want to split a bag?”
You know when you feel like all hope swipes from under your feet? When the heavy feeling of disappointment drops on you at once? It feels like your shoulders weigh a tonne?
That your throat turns to sandpaper?
You wished that wasn’t what had happened.
You wished you’d heard different. “What?” You whispered cluelessly.
She smiled at your cuteness, and pulled out the little white bag of powder from her Chanel bag.
Your face couldn’t have fallen more.
No no no.
It felt like you were witnessing heartbreak all over again. 2.0.
“Y/n?” She looked at you worriedly, grabbing your wrist to sit you down.
You blinked rapidly, shaking out of your head, you spoke her name, holding her arm reassuringly, “I can’t. I—” how else did you put it? You forced a laugh so you didn’t make her nervous, that you weren’t going to snitch on her. “I can’t,” you couldn't take your eyes off the bag of coke, “that’s . . that’s the whole reason I split from my ex. I - I can’t do drugs.” Can’t accept them, was better put, but she got that. She understood that right away. She could see it from the look of your eyes. It was a heavy subject clearly, and she felt bad.
That was the end of that.
“Y/n, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry—”
“Its ok! It’s fine, it’s fine! I just . . I just can’t deal with that shit - I’m sorry. That’d be . . really fucking unfair on my ex,” you laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “If it’s your thing, you can—” what were you even doing right now? “yeah. I’m sorry.” You needed to leave immediately, feeling your body get worked up so effortlessly.
It was short-lived, but you wondered what she got up to these days. If she found someone as good as you.
As hot.
“Yeah, she was so cool. We got along great and . . it was such a good night. But then.”
“Oh no. But then?”
“But then, at the end of the night, she . . basically said about like . . splitting a line?”
“Oh no.”
“And I was like no. Sorry. I don’t play in the snow,” you kept it light-hearted.
“Awwww.”
“It would be unfair to my snowman, ex-boyfriend.”
“What?!” Grace burst out laughing as did you, not knowing if you made sense. You were so tipsy.
“Yeah. It was short-lived but I mean,” you shrugged. It ain’t meant to be, it ain’t meant to be.
“Would do again?”
“I mean . . hopefully not, I hope to marry this one,” you laughed, thinking of the very face on your lockscreen.
“What a perfect segway into my next question!” She clapped her hands as you laughed at the perfect timing. Grace was amazing. You would definitely be back here. “What is the plan now? What’s on the to-do list both as an individual or with Harry? Got any work moves? Proposals coming up? The Sidemen seem to be in their proposal/baby era if I do say so myself.” You let out a breath with wide eyes, knowing you weren’t riding that train anytime soon. “How do you feel about that by the way?”
“It’s weird! It’s – I can’t believe i’m at that time in my life where I get to see my friends get engaged and get married and have kids, it’s mad!”
“Must be right weird.”
“It is. It makes me feel so old. It feels like I only moved to London like a couple years ago,” you swirled your drink. “I currently have no plans coming to mind. We are planning to move this year but that’s a whole drama in itself.” You waved off.
“Why?!” Grace laughed, ready to hear all.
“Because,” you sighed, dwelling, “we — so our lease is up at the start of the new year and we were saying to our mums the other month when we were in Guernsey and both of them — Grace, we literally ended up going from one house to the other, got the same response and ended up going out in the car for about 3 hours, just sitting ‘cause we were pissed off,” you laughed, “well, Harry got pissed off. He was in the worst mood.”
“Why?!”
“‘Cause,” you shifted in your seat, “ we were in his house, in the kitchen with his mum and he just said ‘oh! our lease is up next year, like, we were looking at properties the other day’ just bringing it up to be like ‘we’ll be moving again!’”
“Yeah!” She understood.
“Yeah! And she was like ‘oh, well this will be a big decision this time around’ and we were like ‘. . why?’ and she goes ‘well, this will probably be your forever home this time,’ and Harry was all–” you replicated his baffled, bewildered, offended-looking face, “he was like ‘what?! what?’ and she was like - ‘well you know! You’re both nearly 30 now, you been together 100 years, what are you gonna do when a baby creeps up on you and you’re still living in a tiny apartment’ and Harry just lit up on one, he was all ‘why you keep saying about babies! Why you say shit like that! Our apartments aren’t small!’ yada, yada, yada. But she was just saying like - ‘well it’s true, Harry! You’d be stupid not to buy a house now! You’re almost 30’ — then that sent him into a breakdown because how dare anyone comment on his age — and yeah. Just got him all worked up.”
“Does he get worked up about his age?!” Grace exploded in laughter.
“Oh my God, Grace, YES.” You gave her a crazed look, “the other day! Danny Aarons! He told him he looked thirty! He came home to me, ripping his hair out, having this meltdown like ‘DO I LOOK THIRTY TO YOU?!’ I was choking on my dinner, his dramatic entrance - nearly took my door of its hinges!”
Grace was wetting herself, strange, humoured sounds coming from her mouth as you got sidetracked.
“I was trying to calm him down, strokin his hair for about 20 minutes, telling him he wasn’t old! He was lying down, head on my lap, completely distraught he got told he looked 30.”
“I’m fucking dead. I’m bringing that up to him if he comes on here some day.”
“Please don’t.”
“So thirty with no house - what about you? Did it annoy you?”
“I saw where she was coming from, like I get it. We both just assumed, like routine, to find a new apartment block, it’s always been apartments, and then his Mum said that and I was like . . oh, that’s kind of valid. But Harry was thrown off guard so we went to my house, said to my Mum about the lease and she was all - ‘well surely you’ll be getting a house this time?’ and it was deja-vu. Harry was like ‘why?’ and she was ‘why not?’ and then I was like ‘yeah, actually, why not?’ and he was like ‘’cause of planning, and perfecting, and building, and landscaping, and’ basically all shit he can’t be arsed to do this year — or any year, I like to believe,” you rolled your eyes, “and then my Mum went on to say about it’d be clever to find a place to ‘settle down in, that’s kid-friendly’ and shit and then Harry was like ‘get in the car’ and we ended up going a drive, walking about Guernsey for an hour, him just spilling his thoughts to me,” you noted casually.
“Oh wow. My man was stressed. Why?”
“He — I th— he just hates to feel pressured like that. He hates - even though his family are always 100% completely joking, they would never do that to him, not at all – but when they joke about him settling down and having a baby - he freaks out. He gets all worked up and offended,” Grace was laughing again because same, “he hates it, it pisses him off and I think just trying to like, get advice or a ‘oh wow, where are you thinkin’?’ it somehow got linked to boom: marriage, babies, blah, blah, blah and he couldn’t be arsed. But I get where they’re coming from and it had me thinking of something I hadn’t even considered. And we talked about it after and I was like - ‘they have a point though, maybe we should look at finding a house, it doesn’t need to be rooms for a nursery but a place you can finally have a proper office and games room. We can finally have a garden with a hot tub out the back and guest rooms for our friends and family’ and . . yeah. Now we’re looking at properties.”
“WOOOO!” She cheered your talent at persuading. “How exciting!”
“It is! A new adventure. Something we’ve never had before. I mean it’s good timing, it would be nice. I can’t imagine having a house with him.”
“You look excited.”
“I can’t stop smiling at the thought,” you gushed, cheeks hurting, “I think it’ll make me feel more grown up and . . yeah. Being able to say I have a house.”
“Big flex,” Grace flexed her arms.
“Would be cool.”
“So no brand deals to help you pay for this new gaff?”
“I’ve had brands reach out to me - I’ve had them reach out to me before, like years ago before they were even as famous as they are now — like Prettylittlething.”
“SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!”
“Swear down,” you held your hands up.
“AND YOU REFUSED?!”
“Well yeah, I wasn’t into media, I didn’t have an online personality on my own account. I was intimidated and . . yeah. Publicity scared me, the thought of modelling the clothes and stuff was nerve-wracking, I didn’t want to do it.” You laughed nervously.
“SERIOUSLYYYY.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “I just . . wanted to be normal still. I was still adjusting to London and Harry was doing well on YouTube, I didn’t feel the need to . . I don’t know. I just liked how my life was, I didn’t want to change it. Felt too fast or something.”
“Oh my God. Fumbled the bag.”
“Literally. But I’ve had more reach out to me and I have been in talks with collaborators, so we’ll see.”
“Would you do PLT? ACTUALLY— is it true you got offered a place on Love Island?”
You lowered your head embarrassingly and placed a hand to your head, hiding the blush taking your cheeks.
“YOU DID!”
“I did, yeah. I got scouted.”
“To go straight on?”
“Yeah. Like straight-up offered a place.”
“SHUT UP!”
“Yeah. I declined,” you bit your nail.
“WHY?!”
“BECAUSE! Do you know how embarrassing that would have been?! It was cool at first but I thought-”
“—Harry will laugh at me.”
“YES! I was like ‘fuck no! They’ll have Sidemen Reacts vids on this one day!’” You laughed, “I genuinely just imagined Harry watching it to take the piss out of me, drag my name in the dirt or even his family?! Or my family?! Yeah, it was weird.”
“It is mad. Especially to do the challenges and stuff.”
“Yeah! Again, I still wanted privacy. And I wasn’t really desperate for a relationship, I didn’t think I’d find my life partner on Love Island.”
Could have been rich though.
“You could have been the next Ekin-su. Molly-Mae. You could have been the original like . . Alex and Olivia — you could be married now with a child!”
“I could. But that’s not what’s meant for me now, I’m supposed to be where I’m supposed to be,” you grinned at her. “It is weird, though. I don’t know how I would have coped if I got questioned about exes and stuff. It’d be weird for me.” You didn’t think you could give out info like that out on TV, to potential fans of your boyfriend, and portray him in a way that could get twisted. Plus, if anyone bad-mouthed him — you’d probably light up on them. “And the challenges?” You shared a look with the girl, “not with my parents watching. They can hear stories all they want on YouTube but there’s a difference between hearing and watching such acts.”
Grace clapped loudly and laughed. “So you would never?!”
“No. Harry makes fun of me now for just getting offered a place,” you sniggered. “I probably would have been disliked anyway. I think I'd be portrayed as the bitch.”
“The producers are sneaky that way! Aren’t they?!”
“Yeah! I’d be so mad.”
“I think you’d either be really, really liked or . . slaughtered. If they portrayed your personality right . . I think you would be Miss Love Island.”
“You think?” You laughed.
“Yeah. Who do you think you’d be like if you were on?”
“Definitely Maura.”
“OH MY GOD! YOU WOULD SO BE MAURA!”
“She’s the shit.”
“She is. So BooHoo deals, PLT — wait, so would you do PLT if you got offered now? ‘Cause you are quite praised for your fashion, I’ve found,” she checked her notes. From your nights out, date nights, boxing fits to your everyday street style - everyone was asking you for links.
“I guess so, yeah. I like dressing myself when I have an excuse to. Harry’s hard to - he doesn’t really let me, he’s a comfy lad. I tell him brands to buy from for sweatshirts and stuff but that’s it, he’s not a dressy guy much. Which is fine. I can be too, I do dress for comfort quite a lot—”
“I mean if you’re not going anywhere, why - why wear jeans, d’you know?”
“Literally! But yeah, I would say so. BooHoo have me modelling one of their jackets on the app - I posted it on Instagram, they reposted it on their account, got like half a million likes — OH MY GOD. MEGAN FOX LIKED AND COMMENTED UNDER IT?!” You held your hands out in a baffling way, “literally fainted, couldn’t breathe at the sight, was freaking out in our room, Harry couldn't be arsed with my antics — that's my claim to fame there.”
“What did she comment?!” Grace sat up excitedly.
“The heart emoji face and flames? Or the hot face? I think it was, I can’t remember now. I’ll look for the screenshot and show you. How cool is that, though?! I love her!”
“How did she find it?”
“‘Cause it was part of her collection.”
“You have made it in life.”
“I have.” You looked to the camera.
“That’s the achievement there.”
“It is.”
“Just marry her.”
“I will. I do,” you mocked, making her laugh.
“So no ring then? No babies yet? At least on Harry’s watch?”
“Not that we’ve planned anyway, no,” you shrugged, “as far as I’m aware. I don’t think I’ll be proposed to soon and I’m ok with that, like timing is everything and the thought of having to organise such things and dealing with Harry’s anxiety is just,” you rolled your head back, careful not to spill your drink. You didn’t mind waiting. Grace chuckled, but she found it adorable, how well you knew your man. “One day.”
“One day!”
“At times I'm like ‘shit, I'm 26 coming, I need to start making a move’ and then other times I’m like ‘. . I’m only 26’.”
“EXACTLY! Like what is the rush?!”
“Yeah! He’s not going anywhere! I’m not going anywhere!” You shrugged, pulling your top up, hoisting the girls.
Grace raised your brows, not missing them. “Cracking set by the way.”
You brought a hand to your chest flatteringly, “thank you!!”
“They are the best pair of tits I’ve seen in my life, I think. Ever.”
“SERIOUSLY?!”
“Seriously, gorgeous,” she pointed, still looking. “Is your man a tit man?”
“Ummmmm, dunno. Yeah? Think so. Would say so,” you contemplated, tilting your head. “He’s both. He can be anything.”
“Ooo. Anything? Is he a toe-sucker?”
“He could be if I wanted him to. You — you like that, don’t you?” You began to laugh as she looked cautiously at the camera. “You said so on here before, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I mean . . yeah. Yeah.” She laughed, just giving in.
“Hey, I get it.” You held your hands up. “Shit happens. When you get in the moment—” shit could get crazy.
She laughed louder at your confession. “I’m fucking dead,” she lifted her glass to toast the camera. “Shit happens.”
“Shit happens! We all get carried away?” You held your arms out. “Dangerous game that.”
“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve caught yourself doing? What’s — what have you – what would you say was the craziest thing you’ve came out of and been like — ‘woah. What the fuck was that?’”
You laughed at her very specific question, “what? During sex?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s yours?” You fired.
“Touché.”
You laughed out loud. “No - I d— its wei—I mean . .” you tilted your head.
“YOU HAVE ONE!”
“I—”
“SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY IT!”
You dropped your head to your hand for a second, trying to stop laughing, “I’ll s—I’ll tell you but like . . you have to bleep it.”
“Fine.”
“AND I’M BEING SERIOUS! Bleep it properly!”
“I WILL!”
You calmed your laughing, stomach hurting, and looked over at her seriously for a moment before saying. “He almost *** my ****** **f.”
Radio silence.
You stared at one another.
“ . . . . . what.”
You nodded.
“WHAT?!”
You began to laugh again.
“Wh – ho— whe— WHAT?! No Y/n — what? OW?! You need to evaluate—”
“Nope.”
She starred at you, unable to even imagine the p— no! Ow! “And on that note, I think we can call it a day.”
“Aw really?!”
“Yeah! I need to think about that. Thank you so much, you absolute gem. I’ve had the time of my life, I don’t know about you?!”
“Me too! I love it here?! I’d love to come back.”
“Please do. And bring Harry, I’d love to have you both on here. The Wroetoshaws.”
You raised your glass. “I’ll do my best.”
“Please,” she clinked your glasses, “guys, spam his socials telling him to get on here and leave questions below for next time ‘cause we definitely will be doing so. Y/n — it’s been a pleasure.”
“It has.”
“Before you go, what bit of advice have you got for me, what Saving Grace have you got?”
“No one is above or below you,” you cheersed the camera, “unless you’re Megan Fox, you can get above me or below me all you want, I don’t mind.”
“And get your toes sucked.”
“Aaaaaand get your toes sucked,” you laughed.
“Words of wisdom. I love you babe. Love you guys, thanks for tuning in. I hope you enjoyed, if you did, please like, subscribe or follow and download and listen on platforms, apple music, spotify you know the drill, and yeah - see you in the next one!”
You waved at the camera.
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