Four Hundred and Twenty | Yogscast Lewis (xReader)

T w e n t y O n e

T w e n t y  O n e

- P a r t  T h r e e -

B a c k t o B i t e

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More translations will be at the end of this Chapter.

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I blinked hard and stopped my flashback.

There was jolt when I felt a hand touch my bare skin, and luckily I looked or else I would have slapped my date. When I turned around, I calmed back down and told him to wait for me as he slid out of the leather seats.

I tidied my hair once more, it had only been in a bun with several curls (tamed at least to Katie's work) falling at the sides of my cheeks. I propped back the silver pin in my hair before I then as well slid out of the black Jaguar. Almost immediately, I was met with a dark red carpet, with several flashed of lights coming from the sides of my peripheral vision. Scientist paparazzi of course. And the Sun too, by my assumptions if royalty was coming.

And then the thought sank through. I was a Youtuber. Someone was bound to know my face easily. Especially when I had Mark Turpin beside me as my plus one. So when the cameras flashed to us as we walked pass, I whispered to Turps to not say a word and let me take the lead. He wanted to protest but I very well knew that I was the expertise tonight.

"Take a chill pill, [Y/N]" He whispered back and I scrunched up my face at the phrase.

Snorting, I grabbed the nearest champagne glass and passed it to him. He gladly took it as I explained, "I can't 'take a chill pill' Turps." He gave me a knowing look. "I'm playing in the program tonight and they're making me speak to some high bloody governors."

"Oh shit." He spluttered and I widened my eyes and patted his back before he choked on five hundred Pounds worth of wine. "I thought you were joking!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed almost right there, "God I wish I hadn't joked it to you at first..."

The CEO returned to his professional self and the two of us lingered around the grand hall which had a grand stage and a grand orchestra ready for the night. I already placed my cello on the stage - which looked to be leading for me to play by how intended the spotlights hit the instrument. I sipped my glass of champagne and looked among the growing crowd of black tie and formal dresses. This was never the agenda I had liked. It was too stuffy; too many disguises and facades that made it harder for me to observe easily.

But as I lingered about, I had caught the face I was hoping not to have found.

He had clung onto Susan, his clean-shaven face but still the beard kept as he lightly touched his hair subconsciously. Eyes looking but never at Susan, they seem to feel alert but also unafraid. And that surprised me about Lewis Brindley.

In fact, when I followed their figures and carried on hiding among the crowd, it seemed that Lewis was getting the hang of talking, but when the mention of his work, he immediately took his pride on the work on the Yogscast. That was when an unfamiliar feeling surged up in my chest. Hearing him say how proud he was with his business really meant something for him, and to me as well.

But the warm feeling fell off and was tossed aside when a member of staff told me I had to get on. I walked over to the other room, a room filled with orchestra members preparing and tuning, and looked around. But as I took a step, another figure bumped into me. Their fingers clasped mine and I felt a small object fall into my hands. Carefully, I pulled back my hand and tucked my hair back - placing the device on my ear.