femme fatale, noel & liam gallagher

𝐢𝐱. 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭?

✧ 27th September 1994 ✧
Sacramento

MAIA HARKET, by all means, was tremendously late. The band and the team promised that they would meet each other in the lobby by eight in the morning, but it was half past eight and the front woman was nowhere to be found.

Of course, she was late due to her late night with Liam Gallagher, one, in which, neither of them could sleep through. It seems that they have learned their mistake, and vowed to never let Mark Coyle hand them over cocaine, because at that point, they were all certain that they wouldn't be able to get some sleep in.

Maia, for one, was absolutely overstimulated, her mind was jaded and misted with unnecessary wonder, she was both jittery and electrified. The high wasn't planning on coming down any time soon and she was going to have to endure it all.

"I've tried ringing her room for a millionth time." Sophie complained, rubbing her forehead with a forceful intensity. She already warned the three of them about showing up earlier, to be down at the lobby at least forty five minutes before in order to smoothen the travelling process. The last thing they needed was to be late for their scheduled flight. "No answers at all. I had Kurt go up too, knock on the door."

Anette furrowed her eyebrows at the tour manager, just as confused. "And she wasn't in her room?" She asked curiously. The drummer had no idea that Maia had bumped into Liam Gallagher in the elevator just shortly after they got back that night. She would have known if she didn't purposely try to ignore being in Carti's presence, all in their lonesome. But that was what happened, and so Carti didn't get the opportunity to share the story.

Sophie shook her head no, her blonde hair tied up into a ponytail. "No. So unless she's bloody passed out in the streets, or she's in bed with some fella——I haven't got a clue where she is."

"Trick question." The drummer joked, snorting. Both options seemed reasonable enough, and considering Maia's track record, it was probably both of it all combined in one. She was likely passed out in a pub somewhere with some guy.

But Carti, who has kept the answers to himself, eventually grew into a knowing smile, and both girls raised their eyebrows at him. With Sophie looking more pissed than curious. "Christian." She called out sternly, pointing a finger towards him. No doubt she was somewhat upset that the guitarist seemed to have known about her whereabouts and refused to fill her in. "We are late. Spill it out before I drag it out of you."

"I don't know anything." He defended, raising his arms out in surrender. "I left her with Liam last night and suddenly she's missing in action... get it?"

They stared at Carti's proud grin, the boy switching his shining gaze between the two of them expectedly. There was a brief silence, neither girls saying anything, and he visibly frowned. "Cause she's getting some action.."

"No. We got that." Anette muttered out, not showing much of a reaction towards him, as she often did before. And it was obvious that something had been bothering her, only nobody could tell what it was. Something about the band was that they all lacked the vocal to talk about their emotions and problems—–they didn't talk about things that opened them up to vulnerability. That was just how it worked, because to them, it appeared weak and fragile. That was not the reputation that they needed nor wanted.