Just a Crush: Dear Diary (Oli Sykes)

Chapter Five: Wanker

'Oli's been gone a month. I check our post every day, but there hasn't been anything yet. Maybe he'll write tomorrow.'

"Would you like a cup of tea or something?" Oli led me to his living room and gestured toward the sofa. "No, thank you," I declined and stared at his chest with wide eyes. "Right, uh, I'll just go put a shirt on, yeah? I'll only be a moment," he said and quickly exited the room. Luna sat by the door and stared at me. "Alright, Luna?" I smiled at her, and she started wagging her tail. I stood and walked toward her, letting her sniff my hand before I started petting her. She seemed chuffed by the attention as she rolled on her back and let me scratch her tummy. The floor creaked, and I looked up. Oli was standing behind us and smiling at the scene. "Sorry," I cleared my throat and stood. "That's alright. She loves the attention," he sat on the sofa, Luna jumping up beside him. I considered sitting on the sofa, too, but then I'd decided against it. I made myself comfortable on one of the armchairs. "Go on then, what did you want to chat about?" Oli asked. "Right. I, well, so, well, uh, I, I wanted to ask why you never called or wrote to me like you'd promised," I finally managed to say. He looked taken aback by my question, judging from the look on his face. "Sorry, I was just wondering. Because you did reply to the message last weekend. I thought you wouldn't because you never have in the past," I explained, suddenly finding my voice. He was still silent, and it started to proper cheese me off. I gave him another minute to answer before I let out an annoyed huff. "Right then, I reckon I was a right muppet for thinking I might get an answer. I'm sorry for bothering you," I muttered and stood. He didn't stop me as I walked away.

"Leonora, wait," he suddenly said. I turned around and looked at him expectantly. We stared at each other for some time before he sighed defeatedly. "I'll need a beer for this. Would you like one, too?" He asked. "You were shocked today that I'm a smoker, and now you're offering me alcohol? I'm still underage, y'know," I said matter-of-factly. "Come off it, Leonora. You told me you were drinking beer a couple of days ago. So, would you like one, or not?" He asked. "I would, thanks," I frowned. He motioned toward the kitchen, and I followed him. "Here, hold this," he gave me two cans from his fridge. Holding the beer, I followed him outside to his garden.

"Do Ron and El know you drink?" Oli asked when I took my first sip. "You've made it sound like it's a habit or something," I frowned. "No, sorry, that's not what I was insinuating. I was just wondering when you'd changed so much," he shrugged. "You think I've changed?" I asked, slightly surprised he even noticed. "Aye. Last time I saw you, you were still a child," he said. "And you think I'm not a child anymore? I'm only two years older," I scoffed. "No, you still are, but you're not anymore at the same time. D'you know what I mean?" He asked. "Not at all. How can I be and not be a child at the same time?" I asked, confused. "You'll understand what I mean once you're my age," he chuckled. "That's stupid," I scowled. He laughed in surprise. "Why are you laughing?" I asked. "I've forgot how honest you are," he said. "Not always," I muttered. "What do you mean?" He asked. I shrugged. "Alright then, keep your secrets," he winked. I felt heat rising in my cheeks, so I took a big gulp of my drink to distract myself.

"Did you care about me at all?" I asked, suddenly feeling brave enough to ask the question that had been on my mind for two years. "Pardon?" He asked. "Did you care about me when you lived here?" I reiterated. "'course, I cared. You were like a little sister to me," he said. I cringed at his answer. He saw me as a little sister while I saw him as the object of my infatuation. That's minging, innit. "Did you stop caring after you moved away?" I asked. "I couldn't care about you when I moved away," he said. "Why?" I asked. "Because I didn't care about anything or anyone. Not for a long time," he sighed. "Not even Kitty?" I asked about his girlfriend. "Kitty's the reason I couldn't," he scoffed. "Why?" I asked again. "We'd both started drinking a lot and doing drugs once I started touring. It was toxic as shit, and when I finally decided to get sober, she left me," he muttered, a mix of anger and sadness lacing his voice. "You were an addict?" I asked, gobsmacked. I never even thought of that as a possible reason for his radio silence. "Aye. I went to rehab at the end of last year. That's where I wrote most of Sempiternal. I honestly never thought of you until the day I got out. By then, you'd already stopped writing to me, so I thought it futile to contact you," he admitted. The truth stung, honestly. But it's what I came here for. I couldn't hold it against him. I didn't know what to say either. Gemma was right. Knowing the truth didn't change the past.