supersonic | liam gallagher / damon albarn

eleven

"Go on, its hardly anything just give it a go."

I was sat on a bar stool in a dingy, south London pub with flickering lights on the walls and a bartender that looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

Pulling my hair over one shoulder, I rolled my eyes and leant forward, inhaling the line of white powder from the table through my nose.

Taking a deep breathe, a threw my head back for a moment, closing my eyes, before giving my head a shake and finishing the last of my Jameson.

"See! Not that bad was it?" Damon grinned.

His forehead was sweaty and his hair a mess, though he'd never looked better. Skinny black jeans and a navy Fred Perry polo shirt with a pair of white, alcohol and dirt stained trainers made him look although rugged, attractive.

"No," I laughed, shaking my head, "not as bad as I remember, anyway."

Truthfully, I hadn't done drugs since the latter years of university. Being with Liam for as long as I was, I had always needed to be sober enough to take care of him when he undoubtedly ended up in a state. It was one of the many things I didn't even think about, he'd always come first before anything.

"Two more Jameson on the rocks, please." Damon slid a ten pound note across the bar, the bartender's emotion didn't changed as he snatched the money and began pouring our drinks.

"You know, Brit, you're way more fun than I first thought."

"Oh yeah?" I said, raising an eyebrow and sipping the whisky, "How so?"

Looking up from his glass, Damon's eyes sparkled under the glint of the dusty light shades. His smile was menacing, yet made me feel as warm as I'd ever felt inside when he looked at me.

"Your brother being a footballer and all, I thought you'd be a bit, you know, T Total and all that. But you're not like that at all, are ya?"

I just laughed at his remark. Although I could be boring, and incredibly mind-numbing some days, I knew how to enjoy myself.

"I dated a Gallagher for a long time, what do you expect." I joked, immediately regretting it when I watched Damon inhale sharply, taking a large gulp of his drink and slamming the glass down on the bar.

"Sorry," I started, frowning remorsefully at Damon, "I didn't think, it wasn't like that, I'm not still hung up-"

"Hey," Damon smiled. He placed a hand on my thigh, moving his face closer to my own, "I know, don't worry about it."

Later that evening, I found myself back at Damon's apartment. His home was messy, but the type of mess that was organised. He knew where everything was and he liked it that way.

I showered as Damon cracked open a bottle of white wine for us. Finding a dress shirt of his hung up in the bathroom, I let it hang loosely over my shoulders, my black underwear covering my body underneath.

Walking back into the living room, I grinned as Damon handed me a glass of wine. He looked down at me, his hair still a mess and his skin smelling like alcohol and musk.

"Music?" He said, flicking through his box of records that stood next to a vintage red vinyl player, taking pride of place in his home.

Nodding, I watched as he carefully pulled out record after record. Shaking his head at Madonna, putting back Doves, but settling on the baby blue sleeve that covered Hatful of Hollow, the record by The Smiths.

Damon, although intoxicated, managed to set the record in the player correctly. Rising to his feet, he walked over to me. His eyes looked tired and his smile was weak, but there.

"Put your drink down for a minute, just for a second." He spoke softly, standing close to me and gently tucking a strand of my damp hair behind my ear.

I did as he asked, placing my wine down on his coffee table.

"Everything alright?" I asked, a concerned smile fell across my face as I gazed up at the Londoner.

He exhaled, chuckling slightly. Damon was good at talking without saying anything, but when he had to talk, he struggled. He was similar to Liam in that way, they both spoke with their eyes. Though the only time Liam's spoke to me were when he tried to apologise for the pain he'd caused, over and over again.

"Dance with me." Damon whispered, taking one of my hands in his own and his other finding a place on my waist.

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want played through the speakers as we danced under candlelight in Damon's apartment, the midnight glow of the capital city filtering through the windows, but nothing was quite as bright as his eyes as he rested his forehead against my own.

In that moment, I felt at peace. I had music from my city playing, but the company of somebody miles away from home. And yet, home isn't always a place. Sometimes, home can be a person. And the way Damon held me so tightly and never took his eyes away from mine made me feel safe, secure and happy. All without him having to utter a single word.

"My God, Britney, you are beautiful aren't you?"

Britney. Nobody ever called me by my full name, not my parents, not Ryan, not even Liam. But when Damon said it, I felt as if my heart melted. Maybe I didn't want to be Brit anymore. Maybe I didn't want to be stuck in an office job, with my only friends being my brother's and being made a fool of and getting my heart ripped open again and again and again by a man who simply did not care.

Maybe it was time for me to start fresh.

"You think I'm beautiful?"

My eyes flickered up from the floor to meet Damon's. His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand he was holding, his other hand now on the small of my back, pressing our bodies together.

"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon. And I cannot, for the life of me work out how any man could make you feel any less than that."

I was drunk, I was high, and Damon was even higher than I. And yet, the words he spoke, he meant. When Liam had been burying his head in a bag of cocaine, he had found himself in another woman's bed. But Damon, he had found himself here.

With sweat dripping down his skin onto my own, I let out a short breath as he planted a kiss on my neck, trailing upwards across my jaw as my eyes fluttered, my free hand finding its way to the back of his neck, my fingers in his hair.

Of all the times I'd spent with Damon, all the kisses we'd shared, sex we'd had, nothing had felt real until this moment. Up until then, I had felt like I was sleeping with someone, staying over at someone's flat and waking up to someone every now and again when I felt like I needed something to mix up my dull, Manchester routine.

Yet now, I felt like I was finally kissing Damon, and he was kissing me, Britney, for the first time. And it felt like everything I'd needed for as long as I could remember.

******

Helloooo!!! It's been SO long and I've suddenly found the inspiration to write out of nowhere, so I'm back! If nobodies here, that's fine, but I'll be writing just as I enjoy it, and I plan to continue updating regularly from now on.

I hope you're all keeping well!

-Eva