In Denial | Alex Turner

XVIII

It had been around two weeks since I had last hung out with the guys. Whenever they weren't around, every day seemed tasteless and unimportant again. They really did save Elle and I from our misery.

I was sitting in my apartment with Elle, shopping online. It was our coping mechanism and we usually shopped without realising. It was an addiction, really.

It was a boring Saturday evening. I was sitting on the kitchen's counter with my laptop on it. Elle was sitting on the settee with her phone. We'd speak to each other once in a while to ask for each other's opinions but the rest of the time we sat in comfortable silence.

The vinyl player next to the TV's table had a Pink Floyd vinyl playing on it.

"Shit, my phone," I stopped singing as soon as I heard my phone vibrating next to my laptop that was left on the countertop.

I walked over to the counter, out of breath from singing. I picked up my phone and read the name 'Matt' on the screen.

"Matt!" I exclaimed in joy after I picked the phone up.

"'Ey!" he exclaimed in the same tone.

"What's up?" I sat on the chair I was previously seated on and gestured Elle to come sit with me. She turned the volume a bit down and walked over to me.

"We are leavin' for LA tomorrow!" he replied full of excitement.

"What!" Elle and I both raised our voices. We had made zero preparations.

"Yes!" Matt laughed at our reactions. "Get your stuff ready 'cause we 'ave to be at the airport by 6 tomorrow mornin'."

"Matthew, I'll give you a good ol' slap once I see you!" Elle spoke in a strong American accent and made us laugh.

"You'll 'ave to catch me first," he talked back and chuckled like a little child. "Reyt, I got to go. We'll talk tomorrow. Don't be late, eh!"

"Alright, father," Elle mumbled sarcastically. And with a laugh, Matt hung up the phone.

I put the phone down and rubbed my face while groaning. I had to pack a whole suitcase in just one night.

"I'll head back to mine," Elle eventually rose from her seat and stretched a bit.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love," I rose from my seat and walked over to the door, where Elle was already putting her coat on. I kissed her cheek and she waved at me before stepping out of the house.

I took a deep breath and turned my gaze to my right, where the small table was standing. Alex's aviators were still lying next to my pair of sunglasses and it reminded me of how I hadn't talked to him in long.

Knock, knock, knock.

"What did you forget this time-" I opened the door and found Alex standing outside my door with his usual smirk painted on his face. He was wearing his black blazer that reached his knees in length and had his hands shoved in the pockets.

"Saw Elle on the way out," he invited himself inside and took his coat off, throwing it on the settee.

"Yeah, she just left," I replied confused. "What are you doing here?"

"We 'aven't hung out in a while so I thought I'd come by," he shrugged and looked around the living room like it was his first time here.

"Well, I'd love to, but Matt just informed me we're leaving tomorrow," I replied annoyed. "So I need to get my stuff ready," I explained further.

"I can 'elp," he shrugged and smiled, meeting my gaze.

I was taken aback by his suggestion. "I mean, sure?" I replied, not really knowing what to say. "If you want to, yeah, I could use a bit of help," I replied honestly.

We had a lot of fun packing my things. God, this sounds strange to say, but I don't think I've ever enjoyed packing my stuff more. We had picked out a Bowie album playing in the background as we packed my stuff and we just hummed along with the lyrics. Every now and then, Alex would actually sing, showing off his deep voice.

Alex had a great sense of style. Everything he'd pick out from my closet was better than what I would. I was surprised, to say the least.

"What about this one?" he held out a black oversized sweater. "You can style it with your flare jeans," he pointed at the folded pair next to my suitcase, "and your platform boots."

I was staring at him in surprise. I was unintentionally grinning at him. "You actually have great taste in clothes," I stated as he threw the sweater over to me.

"I mean, isn' it obvious?" he rolled his eyes, showing off his outfit dramatically. He was wearing a burgundy t-shirt tucked in his pair of black trousers. His black blazer was left in the living room and around his neck hung a golden chain.

"Don't flatter yourself, Alexander," I rolled my eyes, folding the piece of clothing before throwing it in my suitcase.

"Tell me summat in French," he demanded after moments of silence. He was going through my closet and probably found a beret of mine from when I used to live in France.

"What?" I giggled at his sudden demand. "No," I furrowed my eyebrows with a smirk painted on my lips.

"I'll start," he ignored my refusal and cleared his throat. "Bonsoir, je m'appelle Alexander (Good evening, my name is Alexander)," he spoke in the worst accent possible.

I laughed and he shot me a confused -yet proud- look. "Bonsoir, Alexander. Je m'appelle Monica (Hi, Alexander. My name is Monica)," I said between chuckles.

"Introduce yourself with your full name," his voice was like a whisper and it sent shivers down my spine.

"Bonsoir, Alexander. Je m'appelle Monica Arabella Blanche," I spoke in the same tone as his. A satisfied smile formed on his lips. He let the clothes down and walked slowly over to me.

"You'll 'ave to teach me French someday," he was now right in front of me. The familar scent of tobacco hit me like a thousand bricks as he talked.

"Lookin' forward to it, Alexander," I spoke back with a slight smirk. "Now, move, I need to be all packed by 11," I commanded as I broke the moment between us, once again. I pointed to the clock on my nightstand that wrote 10:35pm.

Alex nodded with a defeated smirk on his lips. I loved his reactions to my teasing. He looked like he enjoyed it but also really hated me for it. He walked over to the closet and threw the black beret he had previously spotted in my suitcase.

"Knew it," I mumbled under my breath but Alex heard, sending back a huffed laugh.