❝ you, my darling, will always be my little secret ❞
-
life is a blur and a mystery. we learn this through a tale in which the wrong place, the wrong time and the wrong amount of alcohol accumulates in so much more than planned for simon cowell and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter one: the morning after
DAVID WOKE UP just as the light filtered through the shutters of the window, an aching feeling travelling from the back of his neck and down his spine. He must have fallen asleep on his couch last night, after getting a taxi home from the after party. The memories of last night were not retainable, and his head was throbbing from what he assumed was the amount of alcohol he had consumed. The surroundings were unusual to him, and as his eyelids fluttered open, he was confused to discover that the walls he perceived in front of him were not the same shade as the ones in his house. Instead of white, the walls were cream. As his senses kicked in, his brain waking up properly, he heard something vibrate. He sat up, looked down, to see he was only wearing his grey Calvin Klein boxers. Blinking in confusion, his eyes properly adjusted, and he realised he was not at home.
He was in Simon Cowell's dressing room.
"Why the fuck am I here?" He muttered to himself, retrieving his phone from the table, hoping it would give some clue as to why he was half naked in the room he was in.
from: simon sorry i had to leave so early x
David was perplexed. Simon had been here? In a room, with him, half naked? He frantically racked his mind for memory of what had happened, but all he could remember was beating Dec on who could down the most shots in a minute, and dancing somewhat sexually to Bump 'n' Grind in front of Simon, Alesha and Amanda bursting into fits of laughter at every movement. After that, he had no recollection of how he'd ended up in Simon's dressing room.
Meanwhile, Simon was sat in the X-Factor offices, wearily rubbing his eyes, last night's suit still taught on him. This morning had been a confusing few hours for him. Not only did he have an awful hang over and a banging headache, he'd woken up in his office, with David Walliams half naked on top of him. His mind felt like a photo album, brief memories of what had happened the night previous. He remembered pinning David against a wall, then his memory went hazy, before resurfacing as he pulled David's white shirt over his head, hovering over him on his office couch. He remembered his hands fumbling on the belt that held David's suit trousers up, undoing it and biting down on the younger man's lips. After that, his memory was blank. It was almost as if he'd fallen asleep the second his memory ended, accept he hadn't: he'd woken up naked, aside from his boxers. Biting his lip in discombobulation, he searched his mind for any moments or images from last night. But he found nothing.
It had been awkward when Simon woke up. His body ached all over from the position he'd slept in, the couch unsatisfactory compared to the king sized bed he slept in every night, accompanied by Lauren.
Lauren.
He'd been so wrapped up in the shock of what had happened that it hadn't even hit him that he'd been unfaithful. He shook the realisation away. It's not like she would ever find out, and it would never happen again, he thought.
