*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐ "But somewhere here in between
the city walls of dying dreams, I think her
death it must be killing me." *ೃ༄
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
they say love's a game of easy come and easy go, but not everybody is Brit...
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✩ October 1994
"Val!" Graham laughs, smacking her hand away before replacing the chess piece back to where it was previously. "You can't move it there."
"Says fucking who? Is it because its black? I really didn't pick you as a raci—"
Graham stood up from the opposite of her, heading to his kitchen with a shake of his head. "I need a drink."
She snickered, leaning against Graham's sofa. They were playing chess, after Graham finally returned from his sessions in the studio. They could still hear the distant chattering and yelling from outside. The paparazzis were camped outside Graham's place, all because she has been cooped up inside for the past week.
Oasis was on a hiatus by then, without Noel, they weren't sure how to go on. But Liam insisted that they could live without his brother (even though he was remotely devastated and shattered at the fact that Noel has gone radio silent). The rest of the band, however, told Liam that they needed time to themselves until they figured out what to do next.
It didn't make sense for Oasis to split now. It was way too early, their time was yet to come. They had so much more to do and reach to the skies, Valia's head was scattered with new lyrics and music that she couldn't shut down.
But things were a mess back in Manchester. She knew that if she went back there, she would suffocate with all the swarming paparazzi and flashes and questions. Questions that are left unanswered because she was inadequate to answer them. She was completely and utterly lost, with nobody to go to.
Much to her confusion and dismay, now it was Damon ghosting her. After her breakdown on their phone call while she was in LA, Liam had pounded on her hotel door and by the time she reached back for the phone — the line was dead. And when she redialled the number, it rang for a whole minute before disconnecting.
The band put a halt to their US tour, ending it abruptly when the news of Noel broke out. They were royally fucked.
With nowhere to run, she showed up in London in front of someone's doorsteps.
Graham Coxon.
"Val?" Graham gawked, staring ahead at the soaking girl, a small forced smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"
She scratched her head. "I'll explain but there's a herd of paps running after me like a bunch of stray dogs – so."
He frantically peeked his head out of the door, tilting his head right and left to search for any signs of cameras and microphones. Graham finally takes the bag away from the girl, and pulls her inside.
"Here." He smiled gently, handing Valia a warm towel to wrap around her shivering body, and a hot cup of tea. He sits opposite her, at the kitchen counter. Graham's heart shrunk at the sight of her. She looked incredibly fragile, her eyes bloodshot red, hair slick back due to the rain, skin pale and she looked awfully thinner than before. He noticed it in an instant. She was using, something he always thought she tried her best to avoid.
