Need Me (Ed Sheeran Fanfic)

This is my fanfic I wrote myself about Ed Sheeran, I hope everyone enjoys it! 

Twitter @Imkelseycollins 

Chapter One

I looked at the clock. 2:23 am. The bar would officially be closed in a short seven minutes. Thank God. Being a bartender in a sensibly popular bar in London seems like it would be reasonably entertaining to most 19 year old girls, but in all actuality, it’s just a bunch of greasy men throwing themselves at you and cleaning up an excessive amount of vomit until the sun rises.

“Hattie” my boss Mitch, the owner of the bar called. “Come scrape this one up will yah?”

I rolled my eyes and headed to the north side of the bar where I was sure to find another drunken man who refused to leave the comfort of his bar stool. As I walked I hoped we wouldn’t have another incident like last week, words said, punches thrown, cops called….

When I reached the north side of the bar, I scanned the dark room for any sign of life. And there he was. In the corner booth where people rarely sat, laid a large pile of what appeared to be orange fluff. As I grew closer, I saw that this was a head of ginger hair belonging to a man dressed casually in a navy hoodie and jeans, his flushed cheeks were plastered to the cold table of the booth, and his lips were slightly parted, letting in and out small breaths. He looked peaceful.

“Sir?” I spoke softly. His top lip slightly quivered, but other than that my words had no effect. Here we go, I thought to myself.

“Excuse me Sir,” I said much louder than before as a reached down to shake the mystery man’s shoulder.

“Sir, I Hav-“He shot up quickly, gasping.  His eyes were opened widely, piercingly blue, yet still calm.

“I’m sorry to have woken you but I -“

“Your fine”, he said interrupting me, as he yawned and wiped his eyes.  His voice was tired.

“Do you have the time?” he asked as his facial features began to grow puzzled. 

“Umm yah,” I answered, “It’s around 2:30, and the bar is closing. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He sighed and then with a small grunt he stood. He had a small stature, and a bulkier build. From behind him, in the booth seat, he grabbed a large nappy looking rucksack with a smallish beat up guitar neck sticking out of the top.

“Do you have I phone I could use?” the strange boy said hopefully. “I haven’t got a ride.” I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I backed up a step.

“Yeah, right over there” I retorted, pointing at the phone at the other side of the bar. He nodded and stumbled over to the phone.

With that, I went behind the counter and grabbed a rag so I could begin wiping the tables, so I could finally go home. As I began wiping the first table I couldn’t help but listen to the strange boy’s phone conversation.

“Hey Daemon, its Ed, Sorry for calling so late, how are you?” He spoke politely and meaningfully, and then paused for a moment letting the person on the other end respond before talking again.

“That’s wicked man, nice to hear that, Um, I was just wondering if you would mind me stopping by tonight, I stayed out a bit too late and got stranded at some pub.” He laughed slightly embarrassingly as he messed with his slight ginger beard.

“Oh no mate that’s fine” He said quickly, with a bit of worry in his voice.

“I’ll……” His voice trailed off for a moment. “I will figure something out, thanks mate. Okay, you too, bye.”