𝑴𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒓 . alex turner

Bad Habits

Jennie's POV

───

"Can you believe his audacity?"
"I'll be dreaming about it you lucky duck." My best friend Maggie aluminates while swatting my arm, then feigning annoyance, she continues. "I can't believe you were about to reject him yesterday." Maggie twirls her fingers into the trim of my sheets as she kicks her feet absentmindedly, lounging on my bed. I swivel in my chair to survey her from my desk. "Shut up M." I say, rolling my eyes comically.
"Please show me a picture." She begs, ignoring my complaints with a pout.
I shake my head, "Don't have one."
"Give me his last name then, I'll find him." She raises her brow, hoisting up her phone, thumbs at the ready. "Turner." I shrug nonchalantly, turning to refocus on my desk mirror, wiping residue makeup from my face.

After several moments of unusual silence, I curiously peek at my friend. Taking her in, I notice her stretched mouth and eyelids. "What is it?" I question, turning to fully regard her frozen appearance. "You're fucking with me Jen." Her astounded face now looks up from her phone to me, stern and humourless. "Why would I be?" I pause, "Let me guess, 'Alex Turner's' an axe murder?" I spin away from her appalled expression, quietly giggling to myself. Didn't Mickey say he was famous or something?

"This man right here?"

I shift my head back to Maggie's stony features, as she props her phone directly in front of me. Glancing down at the screen, I immediately recognize the man who consumed the search results. Thin, brunette, holding a guitar - the resemblance was uncanny. Frowning, I snatch the phone from her hands and begin to scroll through the Google images. They were all him, "Alex Turner."

As I scroll,  Maggie picks up my phone to temporarily pause our playing shuffle of music. Suddenly, my speaker echoes with a dark bass. The guitar's carnal sound is so distinguishable, that I shoot to my feet. My arm harshly thrusts my hand into my hair, while the other still clutches Maggie's phone. "No." I basically shout. I knew this song... "You slept with the lead singer of the Arctic Monkeys," Maggie states rather rhetorically.

"No," I mutter nonsensically under my breath, and then I'm gagged by the gravelly voice that vibrates through my speaker.

"Have you got colour in your cheeks?"

Maggie's screams fill my apartment. "No frickin way!!" She jumps in circles, completely delighted while the music hollows me at my core.

"Crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when you've had a few? Cause I always do. Maybe I'm too, busy bein' yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I've thought it through. Crawlin' back to you."

I practically tremble as his voice incites memories from our night together. I play it cool in front of him, but I'm just as shaken; desperate to see him. His haunting music blares and my ears are ringing. "Sounds familiar huh?" Maggie nudges my shoulder with an evil smirk, amused by my look of horror. "Oh come on! People who find out they've fucked a celeb are typically happier than this." Maggie comments with a cackle.

Bringing Maggie's phone back into view, I scan his photos again. This time, his stature carried a different weight. The mystery and intrigue has now been replaced by an unnerving feeling. It's almost intimidating to look at him.
This highly successful, attractive man, made a colossal living off of writing evocative songs about his sex life.
Oh god. This isn't good. Not just cause I've made a fool of myself - not knowing who he was - but because I'm actually feeling jealous of the anonymous woman he wrote this song about.