Disaster • Arctic Monkeys Fanfiction

[four]

Alex's POV

"Gooooooood morning Lawrence, this is Julian Knowles and most of you are listening to 95.6 The Buzz on this very special day for one reason. Mr. Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys is here with us in the studio."

I probably should have said something, but I couldn't. I had been speechless since we'd walked in the room.

Because disaster girl had rejected me.

I'd been rejected before. Admittedly, it was by a few Victoria Secret models. But I'd never been rejected by someone so... normal. Not since before we made it big.

I'd pissed her off. She wasn't even looking at me anymore. She kept her eyes locked on the co-host who kept blathering into the microphone.

"As all of you know, usually me and Sirena would be doing the interview," the host continued on. "But we have another special guest this morning. Indi Hunt, our student podcaster, will be talking to Mr. Turner with me. Welcome, both of you."

"Great to be here, Julian," she said. Her voice sounded like she meant it, but her eyes certainly didn't.

I mumbled something along of the lines of "delighted".

"Since you guys are playing your show so close to campus, we had Indi gather some questions from her classmates at the University," the host said. "You ready to roll, Indi?"

"Yep," she said, still refusing to look at me. "Ready when you are, Mr. Turner."

I leaned toward my mic. "Let's go."

She studied her notepad. "First question comes from Josh Tills, art major. Josh wants to know where your show is tonight."

"Fuck if I know." I didn't even know what state we were in.

Julian laughed wildly. "I can answer that one for you. They'll be playing at the Gatz Theatre on Mass Street."

That sounded right to me. "That's what I meant."

Disaster girl didn't look impressed.

"Next question," she said without missing a beat. "Arron Roberts, communications major, wants to know how long it takes to do your hair."

What the fuck kind of questions were these?

Bored, I leaned back in my seat and gave some random answer that I couldn't remember moments after it left my mouth.

The dull questions continued for longer than I'd hoped, probably the doing of my pissed-off and defiant interviewer. As time dragged on, she seemed to grow more and more pissed off with me.

She had to have issues with some ex-lover, I concluded. Nobody got that angry over something so small. Besides, wasn't making a move on her considered a compliment?

Granted, it was a strategic move, not a desire-driven one. But still.

"One last question," she said, looking profoundly relieved at that fact.

"Go on."

"Brit Roberts, history major, wants to know," she paused for half a second, her cheeks flushing slightly. "...if you're single."

A small laugh escaped my mouth. "Are you sure it's her who's wondering?"

At this remark, her eyes finally flicked to mine. Her look was dangerous.

"Actually, there's one more question," she said, her words so friendly that they were venomous.

I waited.

"Indiana Hunt, journalism major, wants to know how in the hell you ever manage to get laid with a huge ego, but such a vacant personality."

Her words froze me completely. The host started to laugh and play it off as a joke, but her and I both knew she was being real. She didn't even let me answer before she tossed her notebook down.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Turner," she said, her cold eyes flicking to mine. "Please, do come back to visit sometime."

And with that, she pushed away from the table and left the room without another word.