"Uh, Y/N?" Chris, your coworker, says, poking his head around your office door, "Sam Fender's in the lobby, asking for you."
You'd managed to avoid your childhood sweetheart for 5 years since you broke up when you were 19. But now Sam's touring his debut album, it was almost inevitable that he'd track you down. You sort of disappeared without a word, leaving Newcastle as soon as you had the money. It took years of graft, but you eventually had enough to move away to a small flat in Merseyside. Liverpool just wasn't fair enough away, it seems.
"What does he want?" You groan, logging off your computer and standing up.
Chris frowns, "Wait you know him? You tell me this after I bought tickets to see him?"
"We're hardly on freebie ticket terms, Chris," You push past him to get to the stairs which lead down to reception.
As soon as you see him, you feel like you're going to be sick. Ever since he won that BRIT Award and released an album, he's been everywhere. Stupid billboards promoting Hypersonic Missiles, stupid radio interviews, stupid TV appearances. You can't escape him.
Sam grins, the same lop-sided smile that you fell for when you were 16, infatuated with the 17-year-old sixth-form boy, "Hey."
"What do you want?" You state bluntly. If you show any sign of affection, you might just let on that you still harbour feelings, even after all these years. "I'm busy, so make it quick."
He smirks, "Nice to see you too. So, you're a lawyer now?"
"10 points. Is that all you came to tell me?" You're being a bitch, but you really don't care. Things were going so well with Sam. Too well. Something bad was bound to happen, hence your sudden departure.
He scowls, "I spoke to your boss, they can spare you for an hour. Fancy taking a walk, just for old times?"
"Fine." Your preemptive dumping probably wasn't appreciated, but Sam doesn't seem to mind. It's like he forgot it ever happened.
Chris chucks you your coat from the floor above, clearly having been listening to your entire conversation.
You walk pretty much in silence to the river, everything vaguely reminiscent of spending hours sitting by the banks of the Tyne when you were younger. Nearly your entire childhood involved Sam and some form of water. Be it the river or the beach, it was almost impossible for the pair of you to stay away. Watching the boats come and go made you wish that you could sail out of there before you got trapped. You left fast. Sam stayed forever.
"I sent you the album," Sam says, breaking the silence, "Not many people got the pizza boxes."
How he got your address will forever amaze you, though you have a feeling your little sister had something to do with it, "It's amazing, Sam. Come a long way from hanging around the music department all the time."
"Yeah," A quiet laugh escapes him as he recalls the 'good old days'. "Is there a pub or sommat round here? I'm clamming."
You nod, "It's no Low Lights but there's one just up the road."
🖤🤍🖤
"This your local?" He asks as you find a booth near the fire.
You shrug, "Come here sometimes, yeah. It reminds me of Shields."
"Do you miss it?"
You're not sure how to answer. In a way you do, it'll always be your home, but you're glad you managed to get out when you did, "Sometimes. When I'm laid awake at night. I miss the people. The patter. Nights down the Fish Quay or the Bigg Market."
Sam falls silent, both of you thinking about the town that made you.
"You really hurt us, y'kna," He says after an almost deafening pause. "When you fucked off down here, I mean."
The pit of guilt you felt when you first saw him deepens, "I'm sorry."
"I think you might be the love of me life. I've never met anyone who makes me feel the way you did. Every relationship I've had since has crashed and burnt. It's all boring and frustrating. I'm nowt without you, pet." It's slowly becoming a deep conversation for a Wednesday afternoon.
You smile fondly, "I really loved you. I loved you so much it hurt."
"Why'd you leave?" He says quietly.
A lump forms in your throat, "I was pregnant."
"Sorry?" He practically chokes on his words, "Because it sounded to me like you said you were pregnant."
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, "You're a dad, Sam."
"I've... I've got a kid. What the fuck?" His face contorts with a mixture of anger and confusion.
You nod, "A son. He's 5."
"What's his name?" Sam's refusing to look at you now, eyes firmly fixed on the pie in from of him.
"James. James Thomas Fender."
He stares in disbelief, "He has my name?"
"Course." It only seemed fair that James was a Fender. At the end of the day, Sam's his dad.
"He's not Scouse is he?" Sam scowls, "Sorry. Stupid question. What's he like?"
"He's not Scouse. Not really. We're moving to Tynemouth so he should pick up a Geordie accent quickly." You think of your son. The only thing that comes to mind is Sam, "He's the spit of you. He's funny, kind, smart, sweet."
Sam smiles a little, "Are you both happy?"
"Yeah," You nod "Everything's great."
He scratches his neck, a nervous habit he's had since he was a kid, "Does he, uh, does he have a dad? Like one that he actually knows?"
"No." There hasn't been anyone serious since Sam, "What about you, Mr. Rockstar? You must have someone go home to."
He shakes his head, "Other than me mam, no. I'm not doing so great with regards to lasses."
"Don't be daft, man. You could go with any girl you like." Sam was the best boyfriend a girl could hope for.
"Nah, I don't think she's interested. Is she?"
I been around the world and all across the seven seas
Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally
But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew
'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you
A/N: Did I steal this idea from 17goingunder
Possibly 👀
