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Cigarette smoke. Drifting through the prised open gap in the car window. Hesitantly throwing a sideways glance towards the seat next to me, I realised that Georgie must have stumbled her way home in a hopelessly tired manor. But this didn't phase me. The question was:
Where was the smoke coming from?

Every muscle wrenched at the mere thought of slight movement, leaving me in agony at the minor turn of my head. Yet a worse ache stung inside my head, travelling through to my eyes, where the midday sunlight burned through my pupils. In a desperate attempt to slip gently back into a deep, comfortable sleep, I shielded my face defensively, tilting away from the sun's gleaming glow.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale-
I couldn't resist the tempting tickle teasing my throat, forcing an abrupt cough from my lungs. Bolting up in my seat, a fit of coughs began to explode from my mouth, uncontrollable. And unstoppable.
Calum turned around, flinging the cigarette to the floor, only now noticing that the misty substance had filled the car. The car door flew open, welcoming me with a blast of fresh, afternoon air, so clean and pure.
"Are you okay? I didn't mean to wake you up."
"Yeah... I'm...fine." I mumbled between coughs.
"Come on. Get out. I didn't know where your house was."
I took his hand, warm and large, hoisting my weight from the car.
Everything was a mess. My hair, my clothes, my makeup. I would've flung my arms around, complaining about my space buns having fallen to a pile of knots, but in this case I hadn't seen myself. And more importantly, I didn't care.
"What happened?" My voice was still wavering, battered from the screaming the previous day.
"I think you're going to need to sit down."

Knock knock knock.
Chloe.
"You absolute fucking bitch I told you to never fucking take my bloody hair straighteners or I will burn a pattern with them into your fat legs. And the concealer. I swear down if you do that once more I'm going to rip your face-"
"Chloe." My voice was low, hinting towards the guest.
"Millie I don't give a fuck what you're... who the fuck is this?" A dirty look was transferred over to Calum.
"Chloe it's Calum. You have to be nice."
"We send you to London for one bloody night and you're coming back with a 20 year old boy. What the fuck?"
"It's fine. I was just going to bring her-" I cut him off abruptly.
"No. Chloe's just being a wanker. Chloe this is Calum say hello."
"Hello."
"Calum this is Chloe say hi."
"Hi Chloe." A friendly palm was outstretched in the means of a handshake, but Chloe just turned her back, not absorbing any bullshit.
"So do you want sugar in your tea?" Chloe screamed from the kitchen.
"Um. I don't know. I don't have it often." Calum's voice was suddenly scared, Chloe obviously coming across a little too violent.
"Chloe can you please just cheer up. You know we don't have guests very often. Especially not the band member themselves. Now Lara is in hospital and I need you to drive me and Georgie back to London today so we've got a lot to get through."
"Sorry what? Hospital?"
"Just hand me the fucking cup of tea." I replied.

There was an awkward silence as I sat contently, sipping on my steamy mug of tea, snuggled beneath my blanket whilst stroking Callie. Calum sat rigid; back straight, hands folded.
"You know you don't have to sit like that." I giggled.
"I know it's just... I don't know obviously it's a bit weird being in someone else's house. Especially after a night like the last. I'm just a bit confused."
"Same here." I sighed. Although I felt exhausted and faint flashbacks from the previous night were beginning to flow back to my brain, at least I was in my own house. I thought of how weird and uncomfortable Calum must be. All he must want to do is go home. So I decided to make him as at home as I could.
"You must be starving. Do you want anything?" I shuffled to the kitchen, blanket still wrapped safely around my shivering, tired body.
A bird's nest of hair stared in concentration at the cupboards, as I scoured the shelves for anything unhealthy.
"We have mini rolls? They're my favourite. Or... oh we have haribos-"
"DON'T YOU DARE!" A high pitched scream exploded from above the stairs.
"Wow Chloe's voice has gone really fucking high." Calum's eyes reflected terror.
"No that's my sister."
Confusion sprawled across his face.
"The other one." I explained.
"Oh. How many do you have?"
"2. Frankie is 11. Chloe is 22."
"Oh wow what a handful."
"Yeah it's worse sharing a room with them."
"Hahah. I can't even imagine." Squinting at the edges, a funny memory tickled his senses, forcing a smile onto his face. "Do you have any Vegemite? Or toast?"
"No silly we're in England!" I laughed at his odd food choices.
"Oh." A blush rose to the surface of his cheeks.
"But we do have marmite? I can't stand the stuff but it might be similar."
"Okay. I guess I'll try it."
And so I toasted him a piece of toast, spreading it with a generous coating of marmite, before placing it before him on the table, along with a cup of tea.
Glancing up from his phone screen he replied, "Thank you. Breakfast in real British style!" He seemed so excited as he bit into the toast. "Mmm. I guess it's similar, but not as salty." And then took a sip of tea, "I honestly feel like the queen."
His way of being "British" was so hilariously disjointed that I couldn't help myself from laughing.
"What? Have I done something wrong?" His eyebrows bent into a worried, anxious shape.
"No. You're just funny."
"Millie come up here I need help with my outfit!" Frankie.
"Okay coming!" I yelled back. "You can stay here. Or you could just come up I guess I haven't introduced you to Frankie yet."
"Yeah sure."
We made our way up the creaky stairs, nearing the entrance to the bedroom that I had to uncomfortably share with Chloe.
"I'm in here!" Frankie shouted from inside.
"Holy shit there's so much rubbish." Calum began to cast his eyes over the floor.
"No no no wait you can't come in yet." I pushed on his chest, slamming the door foolishly.
The next 5 minutes was full of crash and bangs, slamming every belonging I owned into any drawer or compartment I could find.
I ripped all of the posters from the wall, hiding them underneath my bedcovers after realising there was no more room under the pillow.
Shit.
I was well and truly fucked.

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