I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys Fanfiction) UPDATED VERSION

35 | Violet Salute

It was seven, and I was twirling on the chair in front of the bathroom mirror. Miranda had just finished off my look—a pale golden dress that touched my thighs and cinched at the waist, nude heels, blinding highlight, natural makeup. I felt good about it—but it killed me inside knowing this was the last time she'd dress me up.

Miranda moved her lips to the side. "You know, I never really liked you that much, but you look stunning."

Same here, but did feel a certain fondness after all the time she had spent helping me dress up. It would have been nice to get to know her better, but I wasn't given the chance anymore. "Thank you."

"Heard about tonight." She gave me a sad smile, shoulders slumping. "I never really liked this job, and sure as hell never liked douchebag media-miracle worker Collin. Sorry you got tangled in this mess."

I had to hug her. She was surprised and warm at first but pushed me away, laughing a bit. "Remember, never liked you."

"Don't care," I grinned. "And if you don't like it here, quit the business. I didn't realize it at first, but it can really hurt you. I should've listened to that advice earlier on."

The manager was a bit too cheery as he told the bouncer to sign Arctic Monkeys off the list. The roar of people and the blasting music made me feel a bit deaf as the heavy black iron doors opened. "Remember the plan," Collin called back to me, greeting somebody he recognized near the huge stereos.

We could feel the floor thudding from just outside as the rest of the band headed in. Alex was able to talk to me for the first time today. My heart restarted, and I felt blood rush through my body again. He looked different, almost. I saw it in the way he stood, the awkward placement of his hands, the circles underneath his eyes. The lights from the club, the red and purple spotlights and the blues that painted the leather couches from the floor, had rubbed off and danced on his profile. He looked down at my hand, biting his lip. "I don't want to do this."

My stomach sunk and I felt nauseous. A cold sweat. A headache in the bridge of my nose. "Neither do I."

The bouncer forced us inside and we found a spot to lean against the wall. Alex stared at me, just for a moment, surveying my face. Everything ached. "I'll find a way to talk to you again. I'll become a lawyer if I have to."

If Collin was always one step ahead, I wasn't sure if I could believe what Alex was saying. But I smiled anyways, watching a violet streak fall down over his eyes. The club was hot, and I already felt claustrophobic in the building. "I guess I've always admired your determination."

His eyes softened and he slipped his finger underneath the strap of my dress, tracing the line down, and leaned forward. Brushed his lips over mine again gently and I shut my eyes. It was soft and sweet.

It didn't last long, but I knew it was his version of saying goodbye.

I'd have to spend the night at the club without him, and then break up with him before the band had to leave, according to Collin's plan. And there was no way I'd be able to utter out goodbye either, so I saluted to him to lighten the mood, my lips still tingling. I was pretty sure he saw how glossy my eyes must have been. I turned away and went to the bar.

I couldn't find Matt in the midst of people, to say goodbye. I had been touring the heavy crowds searching for a while. I also couldn't find Alex, even though I knew I was supposed to stage the breakup now. Collin was eyeballing me, glaring daggers, while he sat up near the DJ.

I didn't even have one single drink, but I was extremely lightheaded. The space was too small. My eyes were straining in the low, neon lights. Too many people. I thought I might have been hyperventilating, but I wasn't sure, because my eardrums were throbbing and I couldn't hear. My palms were sweaty as I wiped them on the dress. I didn't want to be approached by Collin and threatened to be sued again—I had to find Alex fast.

I headed down a hallway I hadn't checked before. It was to the washrooms. The club seemed to stop before the hallway, which had a completely different vibe than where the crowds were. I assumed it was how the building looked when it wasn't being used for parties. It had slick grey flooring, muted paisley walls, pale flickering white lights.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

The music began to slow down, the voices started to dim. My wrists go numb and I feel the wind knocked out of my chest. My claustrophobia never felt worse. The ceilings crashed down on me.

This was never the plan.