My Kind Of Guy

Chapter Two

A/N

Sorry for the long time between updates. I've been really busy.

I finally got my GCSE results, and I got 3As, 4Bs, and 2Cs, so I'm quite happy. I got accepted into college after a lot of crying (the literature tutor didn't want to let me onto the course because I got a D in lit back in winter and she didn't think I could actually do it. I'll prove her wrong.) and today I've just been doing the last of my shopping ready for college. 

Anyway, I hope y'all like this chapter.

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I sit in silence as Ricky drives us to his place. At the moment, he's staying in a flat in London, which is a few hours away from my house. So it's a long drive filled with a crushing silence.

'You got a job?' Ricky suddenly asks. 'I mean, if you work for a big enough company they should be able to transfer you to one of their places in London.'

I shake my head. 'I was going to spend the day job hunting again, but now I can't.' I say. Yeah, I'm annoyed with him.

He has everything - a successful career, a guaranteed wage, a big group of fans, women from everywhere wanting him. I don't have any of those things. My singing is hardly at a good standard (to put it in my parents' words 'The cat shrieking sounds better') so I'm just stuck being a nobody for the rest of my life.

'Great.' Ricky sighs under his breath. 'So not only have I been forced to marry someone who I don't even know, but I've got to pay for everything?' He sounds annoyed, and I don't blame him. It's true - he is the main income, because I have nothing.

'I didn't choose for any of this to happen.' I say defensively. I wish that I'd just stayed in bed this morning.

'But you went along with it. I bet you're just like everyone else - just in it for my money and fame.' His knuckles are white, and he is gripping tightly to the wheel. He won't even look at me.

'You went along with it too.' I say quietly. I didn't want to get all of the blame for this. 'God, you're so big-headed. You think this is all for the fame? If it was, don't you think that I would be happy?'

Ricky parks outside a block of flats that looks expensive. To even get to the parking you have to drive through some big posh gates. It's right in the centre of London - just goes to show how loaded Ricky is. I hate to think how much he paid to get this.

People with cameras are stood at the gates, taking photos of us in the car. This is obviously a place where a lot of famous people live, seeing as the paparazzi just wait at the gates.

'Look, when we get out, we need to hold hands and look like we actually love each other. The press will find out soon enough that we are married, and we have to make it look as real as we can, or people will start saying things.' Ricky says, looking at me for the first time since we got into the car. I hate the way his blue eyes seem to stare into mine, seeing right through me, as if he can see all of my thoughts. I hate the way he looks at me. I can tell he thinks I'm just this idiot he has to cope with, but I think the same about him. At least the feeling was mutual.

'Why should I have to go along with this? Why should I make up a whole act?' I say, annoyed.

'Because you have to. For both of us. If you don't, it won't be only me in the firing line over this fake marriage, it will be you too. And everybody will know.'

I hate the thought that I have to do something for him. That this whole act is to save both of us. I don't want to owe him anything.

'Fine.' I sigh, opening the car door and I get out. I put on my best fake smile, looking oh so happy to be there with Ricky, as he pulls my suitcase out of the boot. I grab my guitar and put it over my shoulder, before slamming the car boot for him. He gives me a harsh look. I can't hide my anger, I can't help slamming it. Ricky grabs my hand. His is all clammy and cold.

We walk to the door to the block of flats together, smiles painted on our faces, flashes following us. Ricky opens the door and walks in, and holds it open for me, meaning he finally lets go of my hand. He closes the door behind us and keeps walking without saying a thing. We get into a lift, and go up to the top floor in awkward silence.

We stop outside flat 15, and Ricky unlocks the door. Inside is a heaven of white walls and simplistic furniture with wooden flooring. The room we walk straight into is a mixture of a kitchen-diner-living room, and it seems so big. When he said he has a flat, I expected it to be tiny, but now I'm here... It's surprising. It isn't what I expected for Ricky. With his band, I always expected instruments scattered around, and posters on the walls, and it basically looking like a student's flat. But this is neat, everything tidy.

'I'll sleep on the sofa, you can have the bedroom until we're out of London.' He says.

I know I hate him, but this is his own flat. 'I'll sleep on the sofa.' I say to him. 'It's fine, you can keep your room.'

'You sure?' Ricky asks, and for a moment I'm sure he just smiled slightly.

'Yeah,' I say. 'It's your flat, and we won't be here for long, right?'

'Only a few weeks.' Ricky replies. This time I'm sure there's a smile. 'Thanks for, y'know, being okay about this.'

I shrug.

If I have to spend a few years with him, I have to at least make an effort to make it bearable. I'm wasting two years of my life being annoyed with someone. I don't know how I'm going to cope sleeping on the sofa for two weeks, but I'll find a way.

Ricky looks at the clock, and a sudden look of shock sweeps across his face. 'I've got to go and rehearse with the guys.' He says. He walks into the kitchen area and pulls a key out of the draw. 'Here's the spare key, do whatever you want. Maybe you could look for a job.'

There it is. I knew he couldn't be nice to me forever. 'Sure, whatever.'

Ricky runs out, his keys rattling in his hand.

Once Ricky is gone, I decide to explore his flat. It seems pretty big - the whole flat bigger than the downstairs floor of our house. I think I could maybe learn to sightly enjoy this. Slightly.

Ricky's POV

'I'm telling you mate, you need to go find yourself a woman who'll stay.' Peanut laughs while flicking through his notebook. I've lost count of the amount of times he's said this now. It's been a running joke since I split up with my last girlfriend.

He would find out soon anyway, right? Rumours will start going around after the paparrazzi saw us going to my flat earlier. It would only be worse if I didn't say anything.

Everyone else starts laughing at the joke, like they do every single time. I turn around to face them. 'Guys,' I say, and they all look shocked and suddenly stop laughing. I know I'm looking to serious, too straight faced. 'Look, I don't really know how to tell you this...' I trail off. I don't know what to say. They had been my best mates for so long, and I don't know how to tell them this. It's such a big thing - getting married. It's meant to be a special day to someone you care about and love not a.... not a nobody. 'I'm married.' I suddenly say without putting any thought into it. 'It was all arranged, and before today I didn't even know her. I didn't have a say in it.'

Their faces suddenly change. They look serious too, which is unusual for them. Peanut has the face we usually only see when he's behind his camera - focused on something as if he's studying it.

'You're joking, right?' Whitey says to me, trying to make a smile.

I shake my head. I wish it was, though. I wish this was just something I've made up to get back at them joking about me always being single.

'It'll be okay, mate.' Simon says. 'We'll be able to sort somethng out. Is she hot?' He jokes.

I shrug, letting a small laugh escarpe. 'I haven't really looked at her in that way. She's a lot younger than me.'

'Has that ever stopped you?' Vijay asks, laughing, and soon enough we are all laughing.

The thing is, I don't love her, and frankly I find her quite annoying. She seems like a stroppy kid who doesn't even understand that she's meant to have responsibilities. She wasn't my type at all.