11. Track One

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Evening! I'm on Easter break, so I figured I'd kick off the uploads tonight, seeing as I can't sleep and am buzzing with ideas for this story! As always, thanks for reading!

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The day after the argument, we were still in the same hotel. We had taken a few days off from the tour in order to stop by a nearby studio and begin the LP. Forty eight hours ago, I had been insanely excited to start work on our first album -   my songbook was crammed full of sample lyrics and ideas. Writing songs with Nate and hearing the finished product gave me a feeling of intense pride and joy. A feeling that I'd created something good, something that was my own, something people would love me for. Writing songs also felt incredibly intimate, and every new song we wrote only strengthened the bond between Nate and I. 

Of course, that bond seemed very far away. The day following the party, the day of the explosion had been filled with heavy silence, slammed doors and a battle to see who's iPod dock could play already loud music the loudest. Nate had stayed in his room and so had I, only emerging to apologise to Freddie, who'd ended up having to clear up the broken bottles and shards of glass from the kitchen floor.

And so I woke on the day we were supposed to visit the studio with a fairly ominous feeling already clouding my brain. I took care getting ready, feeling that whatever music we produced today would only be at the right standard if I looked decent. 

I flipped through the clothes stacked in my suitcase, pausing at Nate's red shirt. I had taken to sleeping in it, wearing it around the tourbus on long stretches of driving. Scoffing, I threw it back in the case. I wouldn't wear mope in his shirt like some silly teenage girl. At first I planned on throwing on my usual ripped jeans and band t shirt. I would be spending all day in the studio anyway. But then I figured that I should maybe show Nate that I didn't rely on him to look my best. I switched AM on to get ready to, knowing full well that the loud volume would only annoy the guys so early in the morning. Grinning, I allowed Alex Turner to take over every inch of my brain. 

With that thought in mind I slid on underwear and dark tights, taking a moment to whip my hair up in a sloppy bun to keep it out of my eyes. I pulled out various items of clothing, finally settling on a burgundy 90s shift dress, patterned with flower sprigs. I winked at the mirror, liking the girly-grungy look before slipping my feet into black creepers. 

I sat at the small vantiy desk and dusted my face with a little more cover-up than usual. I then lined and smudged my eye make-up and brushed on mascara. Considering make-up was usually at the very bottom of my list of priorities, it was strange seeing myself actually blemish-free and dewy. I coloured my lips in a deep purple, before letting my hair fall from the sloppy bun. 

I brushed my hair out, eventually settling on just curling it slightly for a spring, wavy look. When I was finished, I have to admit I liked the look of it all. I fluffed my hair a little in the mirror, rubbed my lips together before heading down to the kitchen.

I stopped just outside the kitchen door, hearing Chris and Freddie's voices. I paused with my hand on the door handle, hearing my name enter their conversation. 

"-and Lyra isn't helping, you know?" Chris was saying. 

I strained at the door to hear more. 

"-not her fault," Freddie sighed. "I just wish they'd work out whatever's happened this time."

"This time," Chris snorted. "Even if they do, it'll only happen again. It's hard to see how two people so in love can hate each other so strongly."

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