Nothing Personal - Bucky Barnes x reader

Chapter 4

Chapter Contents: lotsa angst, maybe a tiny bit of fluff if you squint, drinking, drunk!reader

It had been a goddamn month.

One month had passed and still, photos of you standing on the landing of the stairs at the Smithsonian were plastered on every gossip mag and tabloid. No matter where you turned, you were reminded of that night. Of your pain.

God, you thought you were actually getting close to him. You thought that maybe you two could have a relationship, a real relationship. It didn't even have to be romantic, you just wanted to have some bond with him. You didn't want to feel like a stranger to him, you didn't want him to be a stranger to you. Everything you knew about him was common knowledge, shallow and able to be found with a quick google search. But that was even more than he knew about you.

Did he even want to know anything about you? Did he want to know about how you were an awkward and geeky teenager? Did we want to know that you found yourself in college? Did he even want to know if you went to college or if you had a job?

You asked yourself all of those questions as you stared down at one of the magazines with your face on the front cover, the photo so zoomed in that you could notice the tears swimming in your waterline. The caption called you Bucky's forlorn lover. You don't even know him.

With a tightened jaw, you forced yourself to pull away from the magazines and continue past the stand and into your favorite coffee spot. Did Bucky like coffee?

Stop it.

You directed yourself with your fresh cup of coffee to the table tucked away in the corner of the cafe, your usual spot as to avoid anyone who wasn't actively looking for you. The table before yours sat a group of teenage girls, mouths full of braces and sweet pastries as they talked amongst themselves, a loud laugh bubbling up from the group every once in a while.

You tried to keep your head ducked low and focus on your coffee, but the moment that Bucky's name sounded from the table of teenagers, you leaned in closer to hear what they were talking about.

"What about Bucky?" one of the girls hummed in response to his name being mentioned.

Another girl, who you assumed was the one who brought him up, shrugged, though you could tell a blush settled on her cheeks. "I don't know, he's just cute. And he seems nice," she admitted, albeit awkwardly.

"Oh come on."

"What? You don't think he's attractive?"

"He is! But he has a girlfriend, and it's not like any of us have a chance with him."

"I don't know about that. You saw those photos from the gala," another girl brought up.

It was strange, the feeling that overtook you when you heard them mention you, mention the situation. You'd seen all of the magazines, all of the social media posts about you two, but hearing it from someone you didn't know, someone who didn't know you were listening to them, it was jarring. They weren't faceless robots chasing after you, they were real people. Real girls that reminded you of yourself. It seemed to finally hit you, that you were in the public eye with a man who couldn't care less about you.

"God I hope they're done, he doesn't seem very happy with her," another girl mentioned, leaning over to sip on her smoothie.

"What, like you'd be any better?" the first girl teased

Yeah, I could be! Hell, anyone could be! She seems like a bitch, and I'm putting that nicely. He deserves someone better."

Was this what being a celebrity felt like? Having everyone voice their opinions about you for you to hear and you had to just stay silent? God, this was hell.