Then Came Fame (Leah Williamson)

Aria: Post Tour Blues

July 2023

Contrary to popular belief, I do enjoy the feeling of affection every once in a while. Waking up with Leah in my arms, I couldn't help but let out a breath of contentment. She looked peaceful, her hair fell across my chest, her eyelashes the most prominent features of her face as she slept, and her breathing slow.

I dozed off a few times before the loud thud of the villa door closing woke us both up. Leah searched around the bed for her phone, not daring to make eye contact with me for some reason. Without speaking a single word, we both knew the plan to stay completely silent until whoever had entered the villa had made their way to another of the bedrooms. But even when they did, Leah continued to awkwardly scroll through her phone, her back against the headboard and legs stretched out towards the bottom of the bed.

This wasn't new to me. By now, I was well used to people realising the gravity of getting close to someone like myself. Spare of the moment decisions led to a curiosity, but when reality hit as the friendship, or something more, progressed, they often found themselves nervously looking for an excuse along the lines of it's not you, it's me.

When you become used to that rejection, you learn to create something different. It's like a new version of when life gives you lemons. If you become the person who does the rejecting, you never have to be the person who gets rejected. So, whether rightly or wrongly, I psyched myself up to reject the blonde in my bed, but I simply couldn't bring myself to do it. The words caught in my throat, the memories of the night before instead flashing through my brain.

"I should probably get a taxi or something."

Leah's words were a question rather than a statement. It was clear that she wasn't sure how I felt, just as I wasn't sure how she felt. The only thing I knew for sure was that the moment she returned to her friends, they would give her endless reasons why she shouldn't get involved with the girl who spent more time in the Daily Mail than she did inspiring the world.

"You don't have to leave."

Those words surprised me just as much as they surprised Leah. In all the time I'd spent in the limelight, Leah was the first person I'd ever tried to convince to stay the next morning.

"Unless you want to, obviously."

Leah raised her eyes to search for mine. There was the slightest hint of a smile on her face, the dopey kind of smile you desperately try to push from your face when you don't want to feel pathetic.

"You can let that smile show."

Leah let out a hearty laugh and rolled her eyes at my ego. It took just a few seconds until somehow I found myself climbing onto her lap, arms wrapped around her neck and her fingers gently pushing my hair back from my face.

"You're not what I thought you might be, Aria." Leah whispered.
"Someone's been reading too much Daily Mail."
"Someone's been in too much Daily Mail."

Leah's hands gently glided down my sides, moving to my lower back before sliding back up to my shoulders and pulling me towards her. As our lips met, neither of us could stop our nervous giggling leading the kiss to me a mixture of lust and laughter. Neither of us could deny the tension between us, hands searching for an appropriate place to land, both too afraid of crossing a boundary that couldn't be uncrossed.

In the end, we broke apart. Leah struck me as someone sensitive, someone who could love with her whole heart, and someone who deserved to be loved with a heart capable of loving her back in that very same way. Maybe, if fame hadn't already taken significant steps towards breaking me, I might've felt the same way about myself.