𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. | conan gray

𝟎𝟔. | message

i pound on charlie's door, my heart still racing from the chaos at the café. he swings it open, and i step into his one-room pad. it's not a palace, but it's our hangout spot, full of memories. honestly, this place is one of my favs. when i need a break from the world, i end up here.

"hey," he says, giving me a comforting hug. "you okay?"

as he lets go, i stroll into his crib, and he shuts the door. "i need a drink," i say.

he furrows his eyebrows. "oh, it's that kind of emergency..."

"do you have wine? or vodka? actually, both."

charlie hesitates. "okay, first of all: you hate wine and vodka. second: amy, it's like 11am," he points out gently. "and you don't usually drink unless..."

"i know, i know." i cut him off, feeling a pang of guilt. "unless i'm in a fucked mood. and well, right now, i might be. i just... need something to take the edge off."

charlie nods silently. he disappears into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. we head to the couch, and i plop down beside him as he pours us each a glass.

i take a long sip, pretending not to find the alcohol completely disgusting.

"okay, talk to me," charlie says, his tone gentle but firm.

i go through what happened again – fans recognizing me, the awkward questions, and the full-on panic mode that kicked in. charlie listens calmly and i take another sip, hoping the alcohol will help me unwind.

"so, you're basically a celebrity now," he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

"not funny," i mutter, sinking further into the couch.

"first things first, you still don't have twitter on your phone, right?"

i sigh. "no, dad. still twitter-free."

"good," he says. "let's keep it that way. trust me; it's a toxic jungle out there."

i furrow my eyebrows. "why so serious? what's being said about me?"

he shrugs his shoulders as if he knew nothing. "it's the internet, amy. people say whatever they want."

i eye him skeptically. "okay, look, i won't download it, but at least give me an insight into what people are saying about me! because right now i feel like my past with him is suddenly everyone's business, and i don't know how to deal with it."

"i promise it's not that serious! here." charlie takes out his phone, about to search for "conan gray paparazzi" when a tweet from conan pops up.

without a second thought, i snatch his phone and read it aloud. "guys, be nice. talking about people you don't even know is not cool. leave it."

we exchange glances. "he's standing up for me," i say, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

"okay, if he does that, he clearly still cares about you. he wouldn't give a fuck about what people say if he didn't," charlie asserts.

my confusion intensifies. i take another sip out of stress, feeling the wine's effects slowly take the edge off my anxiety.

suddenly, my phone, which i had previously placed on the coffee table, rings with a notification. i snatch it and stare at the screen.

"what..." i mutter. my heart skips a beat as i see his name on the screen.

"what? let me see," charlie urges.

i hand him the phone. conan sent me a message on instagram.

"open it!" charlie says impatiently.

i do, and i read it out loud. "hey... i'm sorry about the whole paparazzi thing, i didn't want to put you through this. people can be mean, just ignore them, yeah? i hope you're doing well, amy."