One Shots

Local Celebrity {au}

And I hear them whispering when I pass
Saying to each other "is that the man?"
With a broken heart
'Cause you tore it apart

When I was 17, I met a boy. It sounds cheesy, because it is, but I fell for him. To this day, 5 years later, I have not told him – personally – that I like him. We were two teenagers, trying to begin singing in London. When we met, it was because I was on the sidewalk, playing my guitar. He started singing the song I was playing; it was a song by Oasis. It was Wonderwall. He had an amazing voice, but I started singing along with him. He looked at me strangely before whispering:

“You sound amazing.”

I blushed. Did I mention, I blush, a lot? Especially when it is a cute person telling me something cute. I also shared a smile, while deciding to silence myself, and just play the guitar. He continued singing, closing his eyes ever so often. While holding his hand to his abdomen.

As he sang, his curly hair would move as he turned his head at about a few angles, ever so often. When his eyes were open, you could see a sparkle in his almost dark green eyes, even though, I think they were more of an emerald green.

I tried not staring at him, but whenever he was not looking, I would stare at him secretly. I had not known him long, but he looked intriguing. He could sing, looked great, sounded great, and dressed great-ly. Okay, maybe he did not dress that great, but neither do I. 

“We’re done.”

He had muttered to me, while I continued playing the same few chords.

“Sorry.”

I had muttered to him, blushing awkwardly. It was embarrassing, that he probably did not even know I was only paying attention to him.

Remember, all of that was almost five years ago. I am not much older than he is, maybe 4 months older. He has not talked to me, in almost 4 years. He is famous now, touring the world. He became a solo artist, and had forgotten me.

“I’d never forget you.”

He said to me, the day before he started recording. I just nodded, understanding he probably would never forget me. However, here I stand two rows from the front, of one of his concerts. And he probably doesn’t even know I exist. He is staring into the crowd, not knowing I am here – supporting the one who had forgotten me. He is looking into the crowd, smiling at the crowd – with his happiest smile.

“It’ll be a great night.”

He spoke into the microphone. With that perfect smile, he always had. The way his hair, now not as curly, shined under the concert lights above him, was wonderful. Or maybe it was how I could see his beautiful green eyes from this distance. As he looked in the crowd, he started looking towards were I was sitting. I was nervous, because if he saw me, and remembered me, what would he do.

As he looked my way, I smiled. If I was going to be nervous, I was not going to show it. There he was, looking my way with a smile still shown upon his face. That was, until, he looked closer. His eyes squinted towards me, with his left hand shielding his eyes from the light. With that squint, probably clearer, he looked like he gasped. He quickly decided to take a break – or at least I think it was a break.

It was 2 minutes later, when he returned to the stage. There stood him, all tall and beautiful, with a man next to him. The man was shorter, with brown hair. Maybe his eyes were blue, maybe they were green. He looked beautiful too, but he could not compare.

“Hello London.”

Curly said, as he stood on stage. It was the O2 arena, and the last night of his second tour.