because of you ✰ britpop

six

two years later...

the year was 1994 and i had been walking the runway for vivienne westwood with kate ever since the show in the fall of '93. if being a model that was friends with kate moss hadn't made me well known, establishing myself as a high fashion runway model, certainly had. with this came more opportunities, but also, less of my life was private. it seemed that every time i thought i was alone, some photographer was taking pictures of my every move. 

i would be lying if i said i hadn't thought of damon in the years that passed. it didn't help that in the years that had passed, blur had gotten even bigger. they released their second album, modern life is rubbish, in '93 and when i received a copy of it in the mail i felt the memories of the year prior flooding back to me. it came with a note as well, written on blue paper in messy scrawl. i kept it in a box on my vanity. here's what it said:

dear lyla,
i thought that of all people to be the first to receive a copy of modern life is rubbish, you are the one who deserves it the most. i would be lying if i said that you didn't inspire the writing process of this album. i'll let you hypothesize for yourself on tracks and analyze them all you want. but listen to track 1, its for you.

until next time,
yours always, damon.

i played the cd, and became enthralled with track 1, the story of two lovers in the midst of the huge city of london, just trying to hold on for tomorrow. it painted a poetic picture that damon was so good at achieving with every song he wrote. i didn't see damon for three years that were some of the darkest years of my life. yes, the fame and the money was great, but i was under so much pressure to be more than perfect that it got to me.

i obviously hadn't learned from my overdose that i was making mistake after mistake and so, within months after my overdose i started doing speed. the little pills, along with my routine line of cocaine was what got me through hours of fittings, shoots, and shows. and it worked. i had gone two years without a major accident, so i kept using.

that day started with a photoshoot for vogue-- my first one. to take off the edge, kate and i did shots, which was a mistake. only ten minutes before the shoot, i emptied my guts into the bathroom toilet. this, however, sobered me up enough to get through the photoshoot. however, without the drugs that constantly gave me a daily dose of energy, i was unshakably tired. i almost thought i would fall asleep during the shoot, but the photographer and my manager loved how the pictures turned out. i remember the first time i heard the term they coined me with.

"it's... how would you say... heroin chic, eh?" the french photographer spoke to me, enunciating each word in a way that made my head hurt. they had now made my drug issues and unnatural, emaciated looks a trope. how society has failed us. but like damon said, modern life is rubbish.

i left the shoot with kate, and we sat on a bench together, passing a cigarette between each other. this was routine for us after an event, just sitting with each other and basking in each other's company. once the cigarette was out, kate turned to me.

"why don't we go to the pub, for old times sake?" she spoke to me with a smile, knowing how much i loved the cozy feeling and nostalgia that our local pub had always held for me. i grinned at her suggestion.

"yeah, i could use a pint of lager right about now." i replied. she grinned back at me and we hailed a cab to drive us to the pub we used to frequent in '91 before fame hit us like a slap in the face. we would go there every day even in our school days to try and score a free pint. 

as the cab slowed to a halt in front of the pub, we paid the driver and exited. it was a breath of fresh air to have no camera flashes or reporters asking overly personal questions. the bell on the door rang as we opened it, and the bartender, spencer flicked his gaze over to us. he raised a hand in greeting and we waved.

"kate, lyla, it's been a while," he spoke with a grin on his face. spencer was in his mid-thirties and had worked at the pub for years. "i thought you'd have forgotten about us little people by now." he joked. i couldn't help myself and rushed over and gave him a bear hug.

"we could never forget about you, spence, you served us our first pint." kate replied with a wide smile, showing her pearly white teeth. spencer laughed in response and got us a place at the bar. the sun was going down and i could see the glow of the sun as it set, making the pub even more ambient.

"so what can i get you guys?" spence asked, making his way back to the inside of the bar.

"two pints of lager, please." kate replied, handing spencer a crisp ten-pound note. "keep the change, spence!" she continued, as spencer poured our drinks. spencer grinned as he placed the pints in front of us.

"cheers for that, kate, you're a gem." he smiled, she brushed it off sheepishly.

"i'd like to toast this to..." i bit my lip, contemplating on my wishes for the rest of the year. "just a good fucking shag, it's been a while since i had one of those." i laughed, raising my glass and biting my lip, but truly, i was lonely. 

"ooooh!" kate replied, putting her hand in front of her lips in mock surprise. she then widened her eyes as she looked past me. i looked at her quizzically. "don't look now, lyla, but you might want to be more careful what you wish for..."

"what do you--" i turned my head around and was faced with direct eye contact with a tall brunette. he was wearing a parka and blue jeans. his eyes held a glint that i found almost nostalgic. mischief. i recognized him, but i didn't know from where.

"you're that bloke from oasis, aren't you?"