Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

034

Queuing to get into Syndicate was no joke and as you entered your tenth minute of being stood in it with absolutely no movement or progress, you started to realise that maybe this was a bad idea. It gave you more time to think about the things that could possibly go wrong, including what you would actually do if you saw Sam. After your conversation with Liam a few days earlier, you couldn't tell if you were more scared of Sam or just plain furious with him. Maybe a mixture of both but your jealousy had dragged you to Syndicate on your own in the red dress you wore on the night met Sam and a pair of Stella's heels that you hadn't given back to her from the last time you borrowed them. You knew Sam would lose it when he saw you but the sadist in you wanted to rile him up so you could shoot him right back down. You wanted him to know how badly he fucked up.

You sighed impatiently, giving yourself an internal pep talk as you considered whether skipping the queue to tell the bouncers to let you in was a good idea. Any other night, you would have never in a million years but you downed some liquid courage before you left your flat that was silently egging you on.

"Fuck it," you murmured under your breath after another bitterly cold five minutes as you stepped out of the queue, talking long strides towards the bouncers at the entrance.

"We ain't gan let yer in just 'cause your tits are oot, sweetheart, no point trying," one of the bouncers grunted, puffing out his chest to appear more intimidating but it only served to irritate you. You were fed up with men trying to assert their dominance and all you wanted to do was jab your heel forcefully into his foot but instead, your bashfulness replaced your anger and you found your cheeks heating with embarrassment. You had to stop yourself from adjusting the bust of your dress, not wanting to draw any more attention to your cleavage.

"I know Sam, I—"

"Sleeping with Sam Fender doesn't get yer in, pet," another bouncer snorted, effectively cutting you off.

"The place'd reach capacity before we let anyone else in," the first chuckled.

"I'm his girlfriend!" you protested, earning an amused laugh from the pair.

"Sam Fender doesn't do relationships, sweetheart," the first bouncer laughed, snickering at his colleague.

"I'm not lying," you flushed, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"Next you're gan tell me you're mates with the Curtis'," he retorted with a smirk.

His words were beginning to rile you up and even knowing you should bite your tongue, you couldn't. You felt like you had something to prove. "Heidi's a friend," you frowned. "Her, Mia and Margot-"

"Yer shoulda just stuck with being Sam's girlfriend," he interjected in amusement. "That's more believable than making friends with Mia Cooper."

"I dunno what you want me to say, we're friends," you told him, folding your arms across your chest. It was an exaggeration considering you and the girls weren't on speaking terms at the moment and your relationship with Sam had disintegrated into nothingness but you were determined to wipe the smirks from their faces. It wasn't working though because word of mouth wasn't enough to convince the burly men, who seemed like they heard such stories nightly.

"Aye, alreet, lass," the second bouncer chuckled. "You're gan have to wait in line like everyone else. That or yer could just give your boyfriend a text, tell him to come down and get yer. He is only upstairs."

"I can't," you flushed. "He doesn't know I'm here."

"You're really convincing us on this relationship, pet," the first taunted, biting down a smirk as he glanced over at his friend.