dancing in the dark | sam fender

Chapter One

Chapter One - Play God

Sam Fender was a friend of my twin brother. I knew nothing but the fact he was extremely good looking, a talented guitarist and had a troubled life.

The first time I looked into his eyes, a pit grew in my stomach. I'd opened the front door of my house to see him standing there, no clue who he was.
"Oh yeah, Bella this is Sam, Sam this is Bella," Dean had walked up behind me and introduced us to each other. Sam smirked down at me, he was exceptionally tall even back then, at the age of 12.

Dean had told me to get our guest a drink, I remember Sam watching me intently as I carried his Dr Pepper over from the kitchen, almost like he was waiting for me to spill it. I'd make sure not to embarrass myself by not completely filling the glass, leaving me room to be clumsy.

The age of seventeen soon crept up on us. Sam and I had both chosen to study biology and music for our A-Levels, meaning we'd be in 2/3 of each others' lessons. This was the time I'd see Sam without my brother around. He'd chosen to sit the other side of the room to me, at the back. He sat next to a friend of his, eyes not leaving me as he sat down. Deciding to actually focus on what the biology teacher was saying, something about genetic variation or cell division. Needless to say, from this moment I knew it'd be hard to stay calm around Sam.

After school he walked me home - or rather we walked together as he was visiting my twin. Side by side, silently we walked until we reached my street, I decided to bring up a conversation between us.
"So, how's life?" I spoke out, looking over at him as I regret my cringeworthy question.
"It's okay, I guess. I have a job interview at the Low Lights tomorrow after school," his low voice grumbles in response.
"Cool! Let me know how it goes!" I say, being overly excited. He rolls his eyes and stops in front of my house.
"Here we are. See you later, Isabella." God, what an asshole he is. He used to be so friendly back when we met, well - friendlier than he was at this current stage in his teen angst.

"Dean, we're home!" I call out, Dean emerges almost instantly from the back room, a pale blue electric guitar in his hands which he passes across to Sam.
"Come and hear this song Sam's written!" Dean pushes me into the room and directs me to take a seat on the sofa.
Sam fiddles about with the guitar, making sure it was in tune and fixing a capo to the second fret. He looks across at Dean and nods before starting to play, Dean filling in the riffs while Sam plays the rhythm.

Sam looked different when he played the guitar, like he was somewhere else - the emotion of the song could be heard in his voice as he sang the new lyrics to a tune I'd heard him and my brother rehearse before.

I listen to the lyrics and attempt to suss out what the song is about, there are mentions of playing God and people watching so I come to the conclusion it's inspired by global politics, something I wouldn't expect Sam to care about.

The song finished and I make sure to give a round of applause.
"Very good! Well done boys!" I receive a small smile from Sam and a hug from Dean.
"Now, anyone want a drink?" I ask, playing my role of the supportive sister.
"Yes, please. Can I have a tea please?" My brother asks as he sets his guitar back down on its stand.
"Sam?" I turn to face the taller boy and he makes sudden eye contact before realising what I'd asked.
"Uh, a black coffee, please," he mutters and I nod, remembering their orders as I head to the kitchen to boil the kettle.

"What did you think then?" Sam appears at the kitchen door, leaning against the doorframe as he watches me pour the hot drinks - two coffees and a tea.
"Really good," I smile, passing his drink over. He takes the mug in two hands and blows on it softly, flicking his eyes up to meet mine.
"Is that all?"
"Well, what do you want me to say? I love the lyrics and worship Sam Fender?" I joke, putting a sarcastic tone on the last bit.
"You liked the lyrics?" He seems to ignore the latter anyway and throws me another question to answer.
"Yeah, very...political." He nods at my comment and takes a sip of his drink, flinching as he burns his tongue.
"Fuck!" He curses, putting the drink back on the kitchen counter.
"Here." I grab a glass from the overhead cupboard and fill it with cold tap water to sooth his tongue.
"Cheers, how'd you know this'd help?"
"Sam, you do know how impatient I am. I'm always burning my tongue on boiling coffees." He laughs at this but returns back to his serious persona short after.

"Let's go back into the other room now, I've gotta give Dean his tea." Sam follows me back into the room where Dean is sat on the sofa, glued to his phone.
"Thanks, Bella," he grins as he takes the drink from me with one of his hands, putting his phone down on the sofa next to him.

"Haven't you got homework to get on with?" Sam harshly says, turning to me with a judgemental glare.
"Uh, yeah. See you in a bit, Dean," I don't bother to say goodbye to Sam.

There was something strange about Sam, he was polite and chatty one minute - like he was in the kitchen, but moody the next - like then. I shrug it off and go to my room to get started on the project I'd been set for music, grabbing my acoustic guitar from the wall.

Roughly an hour later, Dean appears in the doorway.
"Heya," he says, making his way in and sitting comfortably on my bed.
"How's your homework going?"
"Good, is Sam okay?" I ask referring to the fact he'd basically kicked me out of my own living room earlier on.
"What? Oh, yeah. He's good, just in one of his moods, I guess. Don't worry yourself about it, Bella." Dean pulls me into a side hug, patting my head supportively.