The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

36.

When I walked up to the table, Ashley was already there, sprawled on a chair like we were meeting in her bar and not some small café downtown. She was smirking, slowly stirring a bright green drink that looked vaguely toxic.

"Black coffee, huh?" She arched an eyebrow, eyeing the cup in my hand, "Not your usual vibe."

"Did you expect me to bring a pint of beer or a whiskey glass?" I rolled my eyes, "It's barely noon. Even I have some dignity."

"If you say so, Tommo," she raised her hands in surrender, still smirking, "You just look like you've been awake for three weeks straight."

"What do you think the coffee's for?" I laughed, trying not to sound like the caffeine was the only thing holding me together. My sleep schedule had been completely wrecked lately, thanks to overthinking everything. I nodded at her cup, "What even is that? Antifreeze?"

"It's a matcha latte," she said, feigning offense, then took a big sip, "Get some culture."

I leaned back in my chair, "I will be getting some culture, actually..."

"Oh yeah," she jumped in before I could finish, "Going on tour with Harry. Fascinating. Intriguing. Romantic?" She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically.

"Of course, you already knew," I said, slapping my forehead.

"I also know you and Harry are secretly married, and the tour is just a cover for your honeymoon," she teased, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

I choked on my coffee, "What? Where do you even get this stuff?"

"Twitter," she said casually, "But don't worry — I  spread a counter-rumor: Harry's taking you because you've never been out of the country, and it's cheaper than a travel agency."

"That's not helping, Ash," I groaned. At this point, I wasn't sure if she was messing with me or not. Still, silly rumors were better than dangerously accurate ones.

She kept sipping her green thing, watching me closely, "So, as I understand it, things between you and Harry are... Better?"

"Yeah, they are," I admitted, "At least for now."

"That's good. Plenty of time together on the road. What's the plan with Skylar, though?"

"Well, it looks like she's having the time of her life somewhere in Barcelona."

"Valencia," she corrected without missing a beat, "She's in Valencia. Been there since Friday."

"Wait — are you stalking her on social media?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

She shrugged, completely unfazed, "As I said — I live for the drama. And there's no place with more drama than your band."

"Fantastic," I mumbled, "Why don't you join it, then?"

"Ha! Tempting idea," she laughed.

"I'm serious."

She chuckled but then paused, noticing my serious expression, "You're joking, right?"

"I'm afraid not," I sighed, "I need a bassist."

"And you think I'm the perfect choice?"

"Far from perfect," I said, rolling my eyes. She gave me a mock-offended glare, "But you're fun, you're loud and bold, and you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, drama's your thing, isn't it?"

"Mhm, yeah. Drama," she tilted her head, clearly considering it, "Fuck, Tommo. You're insane. You know that, right?"

"Obviously," I grinned, "But no pressure, really. It's a huge deal, and honestly, I wouldn't blame you for wanting to avoid the mess."