I Don't Need To Be Saved; Nathan Sykes & Taylor Momsen Fanfiction

2: Beginnings

When I got to my apartment, I didn’t even bother to take my shoes off.  I threw my bag and leather jacket unto the couch and pulled out a beer from the bridge.  When my computer finally hummed to a start I decided to do some research.

The Wanted.

My first destination was YouTube, where I decided the video “All Time Low” would be sufficient enough for me to form an opinion on them.  When it began I just stared blankly at the screen.  Are we back in 1996?  Or is this just a reincarnation of the Backstreet Boys?  I nearly chugged my beer to make the video tolerable, and when I got near the end, most of it ended up being sprayed onto the screen.  I laughed hysterically for the next five minutes until I had tears in my eyes.  The last minute consisted largely of flailing and overdramatic facial expressions.  Just kill me now, I can’t do this.  So embarrassing.

After I finally composed myself, the phone started to ring.

“What?”

“Taylor, this is Eli.”

“Yo.”

“I managed to speak with Mr. Whitely after our conference, and I have good news.”

“Oh thank God!  I wouldn’t have been able to tour with them anyway.  I just watched their video and they’re literally five flailing idiots and –“

Eli coughed. “No…no.  I wanted to let you know that Pretty Reckless is allowed to stay together.  I told Whitely that they’re not the source of your bad behaviour.”

“Oh…”

A heavy awkward silence occurred.

 “Well, have a good night Taylor.  I’ll let you know the details of the tour in the next few days.

Click.

* * * * *

Two Months Later

“We’re already late.  Seriously, hurry up.”

“Ben, shut up.  You don’t have three hundred things to pack.”

“Yeah, but I have you to put up with.”  Acting like the brother I never had.

“Okay whatever.  I’m almost done, so just go downstairs.”  I sighed loudly and continued shoving things into my leopard print suitcase.  I knew I should’ve started packing way before the day of my flight, but it was nearly impossible with all of the contract signing, practising, and everything else – also known as drinking until my liver gives out.

When I finally managed to zip close all of my luggage, I made my way downstairs where a cab and Ben would be waiting for me.  Then three hours later I would be on a first-class flight to England where the most boring three months of my life would begin.  At this point, I just wanted everything to be over with.  I was already homesick.