Aurora
"Reet, what's the plan for your birthday?" asked Harlow as she lay sprawled across my small twin bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"Harls, my birthday isn't for another two months yet!" I laughed whilst twirling around on my desk chair.
"Month and a half, but that's not the point!" she huffed. "We need to plan something. What d'ya wanna do?"
"I dunno," I shrugged. It was the truth - I hadn't even thought about it.
"Pub for a couple o' drinks?" she suggested, rolling onto her side to face me, her head resting on her palm.
"No." I shot her down immediately. "S'all Sam seems to be doing lately is spending time in the pub."
"He works there?" she pointed out.
"After. He finishes his shifts and spends the rest of his night there," I sighed loudly, grasping a stray pencil on the oak desk and fiddling with it. "I'm just waiting for the phone call to say he's too drunk to get home on his own... again."
"Ya never mentioned anything before," my best friend frowned, pushing herself to sit up on the bed. Her stare felt heavy on my back.
"I didn't think it was a big deal," I muttered, "It was only a couple of times before, but it's just gotten oot of hand..."
"Rora, how long has this been gan on?" she asked accusingly as she folded her arms across her chest. She looked like a stern parent and I was the naughty child.
"About a month now," I whispered, avoiding her disappointed gaze. It had been happening since around Christmas time actually. It started out as a once-a-week thing but then it progressed to two nights and now it was almost every other night.
"A month?!" she exclaimed loudly, her shock flooding into her words. "Why didn't ya mention it?"
"I don't know, it wasn't that bad at first," I mumbled. My words were muffled by my thumb as I anxiously bit at my nail.
"Ya can't keep carrying him home from the bloody Low Lights every night!" she told you.
"I'm not!" I protested. "It's not every night and besides, Tom and Dean have been helping."
"I'm sorry, what?" Sorry, Dean, I thought to myself, probably shouldn't have dropped you in it. "He's not mentioned anything to us."
"Because it's not a big deal," I assured her.
"Are ya listening to yourself, Rory?" she scoffed. "Sam's clearly got a problem-"
"He's just having a hard time," I shrugged.
"He needs help!" she huffed. As if on cue, the sound of my ringtone echoed loudly around the room and I felt Harlow's eyes bore into me as I answered it and brought it to my ear.
"Hello?" I answered, spinning the chair around further to fully avoid my best friend's disappointed stare.
"Scarl!" Sam slurred happily through the speaker.
"Hi, Sam," I winced as I heard Harlow scoff and throw herself backwards on the bed. I heard a shuffling noise and a string of incoherent words and frowned to myself. "Sam, I can't hear ya." There was more shuffling as though his phone was being passed around, a second voice I couldn't quite identify sounding in the background.
"Hi, Rory." It was John, the manager of the Low Lights and Sam's boss.
"Hi, John," I muttered.
"I think ya need to come get him, he can't even stand up," he sighed. "I've tried Dean and Tom, but they're not answering."
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Drop Dead | Sam Fender
Fanfiction'Did you come around here just to start a fight? Drop dead.' Sam's difficulty with relationships stems all the way back to his adolescence. He hasn't had it easy growing up in the Northeast of England but he managed to escape his teens unscathed. Mo...
