hi I miss writing
Exiting a packed Swingers on a cold, cold day in Los Angeles, Y/n had clung onto Braeden who held her tightly as well.
He wore a small coat, as did she and his smile grew and grew at every joke she made.
Y/n at 17 years old never would've thought she'd be with Braeden Lemasters, seeing as he was just the boy from the band her friends knew.
But Braeden Lemasters, it was different with him.
He, as well, never would've thought he'd be with Y/n L/n, but he surely had hoped for it.
Something about her sweet on stage persona, the way she carried herself as one of the most popular young actresses at the time, he'd been in love with her - even when he knew it was wrong.
It started with small shows she'd play, accompanied by the quick times she'd speak to Dylan and Lydia. And the nights always ended with, "Who is she?" "Dyl how do you know her."
"She's cool."
"Is she seeing anyone?"
"Yes Braeden, she is." Lydia would giggle, staring at Braeden through the rear view mirror as he'd just keep his mouth shut, breaking eye contact with her.
Braeden's first real chance to talk to her was at Lolla. She played an incredible set that Dylan helped her with and afterwards as she pushed through the crowd of people, holding onto a hand of another boy - Braeden cleared his throat and reached his hand out to get her attention.
"Great set." He said, making direct eye contact with her, and he'd never felt so lost on the inside.
What was happening?
"Thank you! Love your music."
And at that, it got even worse.
What's my name? My age? Do I exist?
He watched her shoot a friendly smile before walking off. His mouth opened and all he could get out was a bundle of words that didn't make sense.
From there, he had backed off. A simple conversation with her was enough for him. He watched her do her thing, and that was fine. It had always been a small crush, and nothing more. He insisted on it.
Nothing more until she had bursted out of the Roxy crying, ending up in the back seat of Dylan's car with him.
A small stop at the gas station had left them in the car by themselves, and other than Y/n's sniffles, it was quiet.
"I-" Braeden struggled to say anything because he didn't want to make anything worse, but Y/n glanced over, wiping her nose and at the sight of her saddened face he had felt so stupid.
She was hurt. And he just was sitting there nervously because of her presence.
She was aching, clearly, and all he was thinking of was if he was about to stammer throughout his sentence or not.
"I really enjoyed your set. I'm sorry your night ended like this."
Y/n only nodded, a forced awkward smile on her face and she shrugged.
Braeden wanted to go again, even though he didn't know her half as much as Lydia or Dylan did. He wanted to say, "You don't deserve this."
But he never did. He kept his mouth shut because it was not the place, nor time. And he already sensed her annoyance tonight.
He hadn't seen her again after that night, and if he did it wasn't like he saw her the first time she visited the boys to make music with them.
She was worn out clearly, but she was so sweet. And as she grew more comfortable with them, Braeden could not help but fall in love with her again.
Their lunch breaks consisted of him sneaking looks at her and stumbling over his words casually when speaking to her.
The boys knew, Lydia knew, Nina knew. Everyone but Y/n could tell.
Going through a heartbreak and getting with someone was never, ever a good idea. Y/n knew that.
But it was hard to resist someone like Braeden. Someone who had made her feel so much. He was piecing her heart back together and she felt that so strongly the more she was with him.
It was never his job to help her throughout it all. He knew it wasn't, and so did she. But somehow he still ended up doing exactly that.
So today. Sitting in Braeden's Honda as the red light from the streets reflected onto their faces, Y/n shivered, smiling at him as she did, and he smiled back.
His stare lingered on her, his facial expression softening at the sight of her soft eyes averting from his.
"What?" Y/n asked intently, as his hand left hers to go through her hair.
"You're my girl." His lips curved into a proud smile and his cheeks flushed a faint tint of pink.
She had never known he waited for her, and she probably never would. Braeden would keep that to himself, because he didn't feel any need in telling her.
And if he had to, he'd do it again.
And again.
And some more after that.
