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smooshjames · 4 years

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forget you not (iii)

uh-oh, uh-oh, here i go again (or: interviews and old friends)

word count: just under 4k

a/n: part 3 of forget you not! i was gonna post this yesterday and then i totally forgot, but it’s here now! once again, the band in this story is based on little mix and i didn’t write any of the songs referenced (this chapter’s songs can be found here, here, here, and here). at the risk of sounding annoying, i have a ko-fi if you’d like to donate, but don’t feel obligated to do so!! if you can’t or don’t want to that’s totally fine, thank you for taking the time to read my work regardless of if you can spend money on it or not. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst (again)

previous parts: one, two

Sunday morning brought with it more Twitter notifications than you’d gotten in a long time. Your alarm went off obscenely early yet again; you had a full day ahead of you. The band was recording a new single which would be released sometime later in the year (the date was still up in the air) and you had decided to do it while you were in LA since you could work with a few producers that you’d never met before.

So, at five o’clock in the morning, you rolled over in your hotel bed and groped around on your nightstand for your phone. You shot upright when you saw how many notifications you had, a bolt of panic going through you at first. What the hell could’ve happened to result in so much activity?

You scrolled through a couple of your mentions before you got to a tweet from some gossip site. There was a photo of you from the concert the night before, probably taken by a fan if the quality was anything to go by. You were mid-note, your mouth open around a word, and it was pretty obvious that you were crying. The tweet read: “‘You never brought me flowers’! Y/N Y/L/N tears up while singing her band’s hit song Towers. Could there be a mystery man that caused her to get so emotional on stage…?”

Carly mumbled a good morning from the bed next to yours. You didn’t reply. You barely even noticed her leaving the main area of the room and heading into the bathroom; you were too busy looking through the replies to the tweet. They were all pretty tame, but you still felt a pit opening up in your stomach. You didn’t have any press that day since you were recording the new single, but the next day was chock-full of interviews and other promotional shit. Your Twitter feed was showing no signs of slowing down, and you really didn't want to have to explain to some random interviewer that you'd been crying because you still weren't over a breakup from five years ago.

“Everything okay?” Carly asked. You looked up, startled, and realized that she had come back from the bathroom. “You seem… distraught.”

You beckoned her over to your bed and showed her the original tweet from the gossip site. Carly gasped and took your phone from you, beginning to scroll through the replies. “Jesus,” she said. “This’ll be a shitstorm.”

“I know,” you replied. You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and sighed; you needed to get up and ready for the day. Carly gave your phone back to you.

You muted your Twitter notifications for the time being, not wanting to be distracted while you were recording the new single. If an interviewer brought it up you’d just find a way to gloss over it.

You shuffled into the bathroom and did your usual morning routine. You decided to forego makeup for the day since you’d just be sitting around a studio all day, anyway. You dressed in comfortable clothes for the same reason. You figured it would be a little bit hard to focus on recording if you were in heels or tight jeans or something similarly uncomfortable, and you wanted to save your remaining nice clothes for the following day, anyway. Sweatpants and an old t-shirt it was.

Once you were dressed and somewhat ready to face the world, you and Carly grabbed your bags and went out into the hallway. Alexis and Piper were still in their room next door, but they let you and Carly in so that you could all sit and talk while they finished getting ready. Once you were all good to go, you met up with Michelle in the lobby and got into the car that would take you to the studio.

It was a pretty cool space; chill, with couches and chairs spread out around the mixing board where the producers would work their magic. You met the audio engineers as you were walking in, and everyone shook hands and went in to get to work. They seemed nice, and they definitely had a lot of cool ideas for what might enhance the song’s sound. You and the rest of the band had already worked out the lyrics and a basic melody, but the recording technicians had some ideas to really make the song pop.

The day passed in a blur of singing and listening and revising, and then repeating the process all over again. By the time you left, the sun was touching the western horizon and the song was almost finished; just a few final edits before it would be perfect and ready for release. “We’ll get it to Michelle in the next couple of days,” one of the producers said.

You were exhausted as you collapsed back into your hotel bed, but it was a good sort of exhaustion; the kind of sated tiredness that comes with a good day’s work.

You were flying so high, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten about all the Shayne drama. You fell asleep with a slight smile on your face, and your sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

***

That pleasant warmth of a job well done was ripped from you almost as soon as the next day began. Your first interview was with a local radio station, and it went alright for about five minutes; you exchanged pleasantries with the hosts, Joe and Maggie, and sat down between Carly and Alexis for your interview.

The hosts did their intro, introduced the band, and explained that you were currently in LA on the west coast branch of your current tour. Once that was done and the band had all said hello, Maggie turned to you, and the smile she flashed you was… strangely apologetic.

And then you remembered. Shayne, Towers, crying onstage. That apologetic smile hit you so fast it practically gave you whiplash.

“So, ladies,” Maggie said. “There was some interesting news about your concert on Saturday. You guys sang your song Towers -- beautiful song, by the way -- and Y/N… there were a couple of tears there, huh? Anything you can tell us about that? Is everything okay?”

From beside you, Carly opened her mouth, probably to say that you didn’t want to talk about it, but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her willingness to defend you meant a lot, but if you didn’t address it, it would just keep getting brought up. At least if you answered this you could do some damage control. “Yeah,” you said. “Um, I actually lived in LA for a while before meeting these lovely ladies and starting up the band with them. And while I was here, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy -- I won’t say his name for privacy’s sake -- and we broke up. I guess being back in LA and singing that song just… brought back some memories. But that was all; no new mystery man or anything like that, I’m afraid.”

There, that was a good enough answer. It held enough of the truth that you felt confident they wouldn’t press you for any more information, but you hadn’t told them the exact real reason. They didn’t know he was in the room, and they didn’t know who he was.

Maggie smiled and nodded, and Joe asked another question about the band that was unrelated to your love life, which brought a wave of relief sweeping over you. You smiled and laughed through the rest of the interview, chiming in with answers whenever it felt appropriate, and then said your goodbyes as the hosts transitioned into the next song

All things considered, that hadn’t been so bad.

Once you were out of the radio station headquarters and into your car, Michelle got back to business. “Alright, next up… another interview which won’t be broadcasted live. You guys are performing Think About Us while you’re there. Then we have an hour for lunch. After lunch, you’ll film a video with Smosh, and then another radio interview after that, and then you’re free for the day. Assuming everything goes to plan.”

You nodded and settled into easy conversation with the girls during the car ride to your next venue. You were pretty excited to film with Smosh; you hadn’t seen any of their recent stuff, but you were familiar with them in that you had heard of them and you knew they primarily made comedic content. You figured that would probably mean it would be a fun time to film there.

The next interview went just fine, and the performance went even better. For lunch, you and the rest of the team got food at a cute little bistro near Smosh’s offices.

When you arrived after your lunch break you were greeted by Ian Hecox, the president of the company. He was super friendly, greeting you all with handshakes and a warm smile. Once you’d all been introduced he began to lead you through the office space, explaining that you’d be recording an episode of their ongoing Try Not to Laugh series. As he launched into an explanation of the rules, a hand on your shoulder made you tense and whip around, surprised. This brought you face to face with…

“Damien?”

Your eyes widened almost comically as you saw the man standing before you. He looked a little different since you’d seen him last; his hair was longer and streaked with blue, and he carried himself a little taller, a little prouder. But he still had that same boyish smile, those same brown eyes. He was still Damien, and he was here.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said.

You laughed, shocked and joyful, and threw your arms around his shoulders, practically launching yourself onto him. He hugged you back tightly. When you pulled back, you punched him jovially on the arm.

“It’s so good to see you!” you said, a little breathless. “What are you doing here?

“I work here. I’ll actually be filming with you guys this afternoon,” he replied

“No way, that’s crazy!” You leaned back and perched your hands on his hips, surveying him, half disbelieving.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Ian’s voice interrupted your reunion. “You two, uh… you two know each other?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “I knew Damien… God, ages ago. We were really good friends.”

Carly’s eyes now widened in recognition. She smiled at Damien and raised her hand in greeting to him.

“Hey, Carly,” he said. He put his hand on your forearm and you turned back to face him again. The look on his face made your smile fade a little bit; he seemed nervous and a little sad. “Y/N, I should warn you --”

“Holy shit!” another voice interrupted you two, this one distinctively female. And also… strangely familiar. You turned toward the source and what you saw felt like two consecutive throat punches.

Courtney, Shayne’s new girlfriend, was standing across the room. She seemed to have just entered, and judging from the wide-eyed look on her face, she was just as surprised as you were. Standing directly next to her, staring at the floor by your feet… was Shayne himself.

You heard Damien mutter something under his breath, but your brain didn’t fully process what he said. You were too busy looking at Courtney and Shayne and wondering why the hell they were here. Before you could say anything, though, Ian stepped forward.

“Sweet, we’re all here,” he said. “Y/N, Alexis, Piper, Carly, this is Shayne and Courtney. Shayne’s gonna be filming with you guys this afternoon --” of course he was “-- and Courtney is --”

“Your biggest fan!” the girl interrupted him, and even despite the resentment you couldn't help feeling toward her, you had to admit that she was really sweet. She seemed like someone you might be really good friends with were it not for the fact that she was dating your ex, which made you feel even worse; she hadn’t done anything to deserve your hatred, but here you were hating her anyway. “You probably don’t remember, but I was at the concert on Saturday. It was super good, you guys crushed it.”

“I remember,” you said, because you didn’t know when to shut up. Courtney’s jaw dropped onto the floor. “Yeah, I remember. You guys came together, didn’t you?”

The accusation was clear, at least to those in the know; Carly went pale, Piper inhaled sharply, Alexis started coughing, Damien shuffled his feet nervously, and Shayne opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say whatever he wanted to, though, he seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again.

Courtney didn’t seem to pick up on anything unusual, though, because she just nodded happily and went on talking.

“Yeah, we did!” she said, slinging her arm around Shayne’s shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that he stiffened as she pulled him into her side. His face tightened into a grimace, but you couldn't possibly imagine why. It was obvious that they were together. He didn’t need to hide that for your sake. “I was so fucking pumped when you guys sang Towers, you don’t even understand. That’s one of my favorite songs by you guys and you crushed it, especially you Y/N. Your part always hits a little different for me.”

Yeah, you and me both, you thought. But you smiled and nodded happily. “I’m glad you liked it!” you said. You turned back to the band and made eye contact with Michelle. She raised an eyebrow. You inclined your head just slightly toward Ian. She nodded; she knew what you needed.

“I hate to interrupt,” she said, “but we should probably get this show on the road. The girls have got a packed schedule today.”

“Of course!” Ian said. “Courtney, maybe you can harass them more if they have time when we’re done filming. But for now, Shayne, Damien, ladies, follow me.”

You hurried to catch up to the rest of the band. Carly and Alexis fell into step with you while Piper started walking behind you, obviously trying to shield you from Shayne’s gaze. You had another moment of profound gratitude for these girls; they took care of you when no one else would, they loved you when you couldn’t love yourself, and they always seemed to know what you needed without having to ask. That shared strength and love was one of the reasons the band had stayed together for so long.

Impressively enough, you managed to keep your shit together until you got to Carly’s. You didn’t bother texting her to let her know that you were coming. She’d let you in if she was home, and if she wasn't home, you knew her building code and where she kept her spare key.

Luckily, she was home; she let you up to her apartment without question.

Only once you’d crossed the threshold of your best friend’s apartment did you allow yourself to cry. You crumpled like a piece of paper against her and let out a sob so loud it bordered on a scream. Carly maneuvered you back onto her couch, sat down with you, and held you until you could talk. You were still crying when you pulled away from her, but you’d gotten out the full-body sobs.

“Honey, what happened?” Carly asked. You could hear the concern in her voice; it was rare that you showed up at her place unannounced, and even rarer that you started the visit by scream-crying into her shirt. She probably thought somebody was dead.

“Shayne got home from work and ended things,” you said. “Just… no warning, no ceremony, nothing. Three days ago he asked me my fucking ring size and today he told me that we aren’t working anymore. And I don’t understand because I thought he was happy! I thought we were good! I thought that we’d be fucking picking a date for our wedding, not for when I’m gonna come move out the rest of my shit!”

Before Carly could respond, your phone vibrated. You took it out and couldn’t help your tearful, almost-manic laugh at what you saw there; a text from Shayne, apologizing, asking if you would come home and talk. You went to reply, but Carly grabbed your phone and held it away from you before you could.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lunging for your phone. She was an expert at keep-away, though, and you couldn’t even get close. You cursed yourself for all the nights out where you asked her to keep your phone away from you if you got too drunk. “Carly, give me my phone!”

“Promise me you won’t text him back and you can have it,” she said.

“That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m gonna text him back!”

“Is that a good idea?” she asked. She cocked an eyebrow. “If you can honestly tell me that you think it’s a good idea for you to say anything to him right now, I’ll give you your phone back.”

That knocked some sense into you. Immediately, the fight left your body and you sat back on the couch. She studied you for a moment and then leaned forward to set the phone on the coffee table. When you didn’t go for it, she relaxed and leaned back.

“Sorry,” you said. “I’m all over the place.”

“I know. It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for, right? Now, walk me through what happened.”

“He came home and he was being weird, and he was like ‘hey can we talk’ and then he basically just said that it isn’t working anymore and that he can’t be with me. He didn’t give me a reason besides that and I didn’t ask him for one. I just packed a bag and came here.”

Carly nodded, considering. “That’s really fucking weird.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long,” you said. At her shocked expression, you shrugged. “I’ve always said that he’s out of my league, right? It was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and realized he could do better. He probably realized that if we got married, he’d have a hell of a harder time getting away from me.”

“Were it not for the state of emotional peril you’re in right now, I would slap you,” Carly said. You let out a startled laugh; of all the things she could've said, you weren't expecting that. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve known you for a long time. If that was true -- which it isn’t, by the way, you’re the sexiest, most beautiful, smartest, funniest, greatest person I know -- it wouldn’t have taken him three years to ‘get bored.’ This is one of the dumber stunts he’s pulled, which is saying something. But this isn’t your fault. He’s the asshole here, regardless of his reasoning. If you want to talk to him and try to work things out, that’s your business. But whether or not things work out, this will always be on him. And I’ll be here every step of the way, buttercup.”

You nodded gratefully, even though you didn't believe her. You’d never been good enough for Shayne. This was always inevitable. Still, you put on a brave face for Carly. Better she didn’t know what you were really thinking. “You’re right,” you said. “Thanks, Carly.”

You could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t completely believe you, which wasn’t surprising. Carly always knew when you were lying. But she also knew when to let an issue lie. “Good,” she said. “Now, Bridesmaids or Legally Blonde?”

Ian led the group to a colorful sound stage. To the right was a partition, and behind it a bunch of strange props and costume pieces. To the left was a single stool, a piano, and some bongos.

The room was swarming with activity as crew people moved around getting everything set up and ready to go. Shayne and Damien led you over to the set. “Y/N, why don’t you sit in the stool for the intro?” Shayne said, the first words he’d said to you since you had broken up. His voice was professional and upbeat, betraying almost no emotion. “And then I’ll stand to your right, Damien will be behind me, and the rest of the band can be to your left.”

“Sounds fine to me,” you said, and you hoped your voice sounded less forced to him than it did to you. You sat on the stool, glad to be off your feet; your balance was suddenly fucked now that Shayne was next to you, and you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright if you tried to stand for much longer.

Shayne went to go check something with a cameraperson, and the girls formed another huddle around you. Carly stood right in front of you, Piper to your immediate left, and Alexis just behind you. “Are you alright?” Carly asked.

“I’m sorry,” Damien said, cutting into the conversation before you could even think about how to answer Carly’s question. He was standing to your right, though he was a little farther away than your bandmates were. “I wanted to let you know before you saw him. I thought maybe it would be easier that way.”

“It’s okay, Dames. It’s not your fault,” you said. You reached over to squeeze his bicep, hoping to ease his mind a little bit, but the guilt didn’t leave his face.

“How did you know we would be here today?” Carly asked. You gave her a stern look, but she either didn’t see it or just didn’t care.

Damien fidgeted, nervous. You didn’t blame him; Carly was a force of nature when she wanted to be. “Um,” he said, “what do you mean?

“I mean that you had enough foresight to know that you could surprise Y/N and warn her about Shayne. So you knew we would be here.”

“We get a filming schedule at the beginning of the week,” Damien said. You looked at Carly as if to say There, see? A perfectly good reason. Now back off and let the poor boy breathe. But then Damien continued: “and Shayne told me about seeing Y/N on Saturday, so --”

He cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut as he seemed to realize what he’d said. Your gaze flew from Carly to Damien. For a moment, you felt thoroughly like a middle schooler; the he-said-she-said was something you thought would get left in sixth grade, but here you were nonetheless. Still, you couldn’t help the way your heart rate accelerated at Damien’s words. If Shayne had mentioned you specifically…

“What?” you asked.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. You couldn’t get your hopes up. Shayne mentioning you didn’t mean anything. Besides, he had a new girlfriend now, anyway. He’d probably just done it since you and Damien were friends before shit hit the fan.

Damien didn’t get the chance to answer your question before Shayne returned from his conversation with the cameraperson. You were pretty sure he knew that you guys had been talking about him; it was pretty obvious by the way the conversation stopped short as soon as he got within earshot. But if he knew, he didn’t comment on it. He just walked over and took his place next to you.

Carly flashed him a look colder than the south pole and moved to stand on your other side, and then she plastered the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face. You did the same.

“Alright, everybody ready?” one of the crew people asked. You nodded your assent. “Three, two, and… action!”

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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