No. 1 Party Anthem// Alex Turner

17 Gator Skin Boots

Arabella's pov
As Evie told me, I wore the pants she gave me only on the last show we had. I styled them with a black halter top, with a neckline of a ballet wrap sweater hearts, open in the back and a pair of black alligator skin boots.
The crowd was cheering for us, we were about to go on stage, but before, Alex stopped me. «Listen, I'm sorry, for everything, I've been a dick with you and I really wanna make up for it,» he said, holding my forearm. I looked at my friends walking towards the stage. «can I still play with you?» he asked.
I let his hand slid to mine and stroke my fingers among his, to pull him towards the stage. «Come on,» I said. «hope you remember the songs.»
«Are those the same pants Jimmy Page wore?» he asked me.
I stopped walking and looked at him with a big smile. «Yes.» I said.
He smiled. «You look good.»
I thanked him and we went to the stage.
Like I thought, the crowd cheered even more when they saw Alex, with his Warmoth Custom Jazzmaster.

Alex's pov
Throughout the days, I constantly thought about
Arabella and how I've been treating her. She would be sore with me only when I made her angry, but I understood it when it was too late. Luckily she let me play with her on stage, I really wanted her to be my friend.
«Mr. Alex Turner is here to give us a little help,» she spoke into the microphone. The audience cheered again. «since you already cheered for him, I wanna hear some noise for my beautiful pants.» she said, raising a leg, to show the pants she was swearing. She then laughed and introduced the first song.
I took Chase's spot, as he moved next to Jess, on the other side of the stage. Arabella was right in the middle, but when she started singing, she took the microphone and started walking around, even trying to grab the fans' hands. I looked at her the whole time: how she was acting the songs, the little dances she made, everything.
Her full curly shag cut, that passed her shoulders with an inch, along with her flared trousers made her look like she just came out of the seventies and I couldn't get over it.

After the show, since the tour in Australia was over, Ian and Mark decided to celebrate the end of the tour with a party. They gave us some time to change ourselves, so I took a shower and I wore my usual black jeans and I white button up, open on my collarbone, since it was pretty hot outside.
I noticed how many people were part of the tour staff only once I entered the club, which was crowded. I didn't consider they could brought their partners or friends.
Matt disappeared among the people, looking for Ian, to talk to him. Jamie and Nick were laughing together, about a joke I couldn't hear due to the music blasting out of the DJ's speakers.
The lads from Major Mess arrived half a hour after us. As soon as they stepped in, the photographers pounced on them, illuminating them with their dazzling flashes. I looked over, to see Arabella, laughing with Chase, who stood on her side. She wasn't wearing her beloved pants anymore, instead she put on a pair of black denim shorts, particularly short, ripped at the end, with a pair of fishnet underneath. Her hair wasn't styled in her bouncy curls anymore, but she straightened them, reaching her breast. The thing that caught my attention, was the t-shirt she was wearing, that in capital letters said: "sex with you sucks". The flashlights made shine the white details in her black alligator skin boots.
It almost weirded me out how they all dressed in a different way: Evie was wearing a baby blue cocktail dress; Chase had a red velvet blazer over a black shirt, with a pair of black jeans; Jess was wearing a grey shirt and a black leather jacket.

I spent the night drinking and pretending like the jokes people made were funny, Ian introduced me to many people I didn't care about. When a man with a buzz cut called Ian to talk to him, I took the opportunity to ran away and smoke a cigarette outside. It was hard trying to find the exit, but after a couple of minutes of pushing people, I saw the red light with the word "exit" on.
The air seemed almost cold once I was outside, as compared to the stale air inside the club. «Hey,» someone said. I looked around and saw Arabella, sat on the floor, with a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. «tired of people?» she asked with a smile. I nodded. She brought the hand holding the cigarette to her face, to take a drag of smoke. «Same.» she said, before letting the smoke escape her mouth.
She took a sip from the bottle in her hand and I saw, when she raised it, that it was tequila.
She took another drag off of her cigarette before speaking. «You can join me instead of staring,» she said without even looking at me. «I stole a bottle of tequila.»
I approached and sat next to her. She handed me the bottle and I took a sip of it.
«Thanks for what you did today.» she said. She was looking at her knees crashing onto each other, covered with a fishnet.
«I realised I've been acting like a dick with you,» I said. «I had to make up for it.»
I took out a cigarette and a lighter, while she took back the bottle for another sip. «I feel like I owe you an apology,» she said. «I can be a control freak sometimes, which is weird since I'm such a mess, but maybe it's 'cause I care about my music and I don't about being tidy... Is it right to use tidy in this case? I wanted to say neat but then it would have sound like I don't wash myself, but I do and-» she sighed. «Sorry, I'm talking too much, I can't control myself when I drink.»
«Don't be sorry,» I said. «I enjoy talking to you.»
«Do you?» she asked with a smirk, turning her face towards me.
I smiled. «Of course,» I said. «you're very smart and I like the way you can connect something with another thing that seemed to have nothing to do with it.»
She softly chuckled. «Nah that's just my brain that's as messy as me.» She took another sip from the bottle. «You instead, speak very slowly, 'cause you're always trying to find the right words to use and I love it,» she said. I looked down to not show her how much she was making me smile. «sometimes you sound like an old man, but it's hot.»
I looked at her. «Hot?» I asked.
«Yeah hot,» she smiled convinced. «makes you look like those old men that read every book in the world.»
«Indeed I am an old man.»
«No you're not,» she scoffed. «how old are you?»
I took a second to think about it. «Twenty six.»
«You really needed to think about it? I'm drunk but I know how old I am.» she giggled.
«Everybody is confused when it's not been a lot since their birthday.»
She frowned. «Wait, when's your birthday?»
I took a sip of tequila. «January 6.» I said, liking the tequila from my upper lip.
She dramatically opened her mouth in shock. «It was last week?» she asked. «I didn't know it was your birthday, I'm sorry.»
«It's okay.» I smiled seeing how worried she was.
«You didn't celebrate it.»
«'Cause everybody was stressed for the tour, tired from Christmas and everything.»
She took the bottle from my hand and place it on the floor. «Well I'm sorry, let me pull your ears.» she got up.
I frowned. «Pull my ears? Why?»
I stepped in front of me and kneeled. «Oh you don't do this right. It's an Italian thing, how old are you again?» she asked me.
She was too drunk to even remember what I just told her. I softly chuckled. «Twenty six.»
«It's gonna take some time then.»
She approached even more and placed her index finger and thumb, grabbing my earlobes. She pulled first the left one, then the right one, counting from one to twenty six with a smiled. When she finished counting, she gently slapped me with both hand at the same time. I was so drunk, that I started smiling and she let a giggle out, like a little baby.
I was holding myself on the palms of my hands, with my arms extended behind my back; she was on her knees in front of me. We were staring into each other's eyes, until she leaned her head forward.