Sam
"Evening, guys, how we doing?" the interviewer asked Dean and me.
"Good, aye," I replied, my best mate nodding in agreement.
"You look amazing, do you feel amazing?" he grinned.
I met Dean's gaze as I let out a quiet 'aww'. "I feel, er... I feel quite restricted," I commented, twisting my torso to emphasise my point, the tight-fitting suit not allowing me much movement. I actually despised the thing but apparently, it was required for a red carpet. Stupid was what it was. "There'll be no kung fu tonight... definitely no dance moves."
"Yer might get away with a moonwalk like," Dean teased.
"In these?" I exclaimed, showcasing the heavy-duty combat boots on my feet. "Are yer mad?!"
"Nah, you're reet there," he snorted.
"When was the last time you wore a suit?" the interviewer laughed.
I racked my brain, trying to remember the last time I wore one, cringing when the only thought that came to me was a funeral back in October. "Er, I think it was a funeral actually," I grimaced. "I don't really wear 'em... as yer can probably tell."
"So, you're up for three awards tonight," he pointed out. "Three nominations, how do you feel about that?"
"It's mental," I scoffed.
"It's a bit surreal like," Dean agreed.
"We're hoping we get to take at least one home like," I chuckled, shoving my hands deep into the pockets of my suit trousers. "One of 'em's fan-voted and wor fans are class, so finger's crossed."
"I'm sure you will," the interviewer assured us. "Will you be turning this one into a beer pump?"
"Obviously," I scoffed teasingly. "Put it with the last one like."
"Don't think there's a better place for it," he laughed. "You and Dean have been friends for a long time."
"Fifteen years or sommat like that," I said, bumping my shoulder against Dean's. "Still remember the day we first met, when yer come 'round that corner on your gold BMX."
"Yer spent most of wor teenage years on the bloody back of it," Dean chuckled.
"Would you say Sam's your best friend, Dean?" the interview inquired teasingly.
My mouth dropped open as I watched his nose scrunch upwards in thought and shook his head. "Fuckin' charming!" I huffed.
"Yer'd chose her over me an' all!" Dean snorted as he shoved my shoulder lightly.
I smiled sheepishly as a faint blush ghosted over my cheeks. "Er, you're not wrong I s'ppose," I mumbled.
"Is this Rory you're talking about?" he asked with a fond smile.
"Aye," Dean nodded. "I fuckin' adore her, she's my favourite person in the whole world. Other than my fiancé, of course."
"Rory's here tonight," he pointed out. "Are there any plans to celebrate together?"
"Well, that depends if she beats wor or not," I joked with a quiet chuckle, pulling a snort from Dean and a hearty laugh from our interviewer. "I'm joking, of course. She's my best mate and I'm so so proud of her. She's got me beat by miles and deservedly so an' all. The Voices Are Me is such an incredible album, Rora's so fuckin' talented it's unbelievable!"
"Yes, because you're up against each other for best artist and best album," he commented. "So, you're rooting for her, would you say?"
"Definitely," I replied without missing a beat. "She's been my biggest supporter since day one, way back when I would gig at the Low Lights and stuff, so it's only fair that I'm supportive of her and it's hard not to be. Everything she does is just... wow, that's all I've got."
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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...
