Bad News // Bastile/Dan Smith Fanfic

Chapter 4 // Drinking From a Paper Cup

Zoe awoke to voices for afar. Curious, she clambered out of the bed, drowsy from a poor night’s sleep. As she passed the mirror she took a quick glance at herself; bare faced and a knot of hair. Mentally rolling her eyes, she left the room and walked towards the living room door, the voices growing louder with each step. She discreetly peered around the door to find that Dan was speaking to another male figure. The floor beneath her foot sounded a large ‘creak’, causing both men to look in her direction. Her cheeks tinged red and she smiled nervously, looking towards Dan. The other man, who sported a great amount of facial hair, raised an eyebrow at Dan, his lips curving into a sly smile. Dan frowned ever so slightly.

“She’s just a friend,” he argued, provoking a grin on the opposite man’s face. “Zoe, this is Kyle.” Zoe smiled sweetly, opening the door fully and greeting Kyle. Her eyes moved swiftly to Dan.

“I’m going to, um, make some coffee,” she said quietly as she motioned towards the kitchen. He nodded in approval, and then continued to talk with Kyle. Zoe listened carefully, tuning out the loud blare of the kettle, but failed to hear anything. She took one mug from the stand and placed it on the counter, adding her sweet blend into the ceramic cup as she waited. When it had boiled, she poured in the water, watching it rise to a creamy mixture before she stirred it gently. When she emerged from the kitchen, Kyle had left. “Gone already?”

“We were just discussing tonight,” Dan replied. She looked at him blankly before a wave a realisation kicked in.

“Ah right, the gig.” He nodded. He was already dressed in straightforward apparel; a t-shirt with a printed logo of some-sort (or so she gathered,) along with a pair of jeans.

“I better get going,” he said, “please stay out of trouble.” Zoe laughed, yet she knew his remark was serious after the previous difficulties she’d brought him.

“I’ll see you tonight,” a trace of excitement filled her body at the thought of it, and the look on Dan’s face suggested he felt the same.

The cold climate of the night cut through Zoe’s bare skin as she waited patiently outside. A coral, lace-trimmed dress proved to be her most suitable outfit, after spending hours debating over numerous pairs of jeans. She pulled her jacket tighter, wrapping herself within the soft denim whilst she licked her purple tinged lips. Crowds of people flocked through the doors of the building; they buzzed with anticipation as they did so. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand grab her own, gently drawing her to one side.

“It’s freezing!” she exclaimed through her set of chatter teeth. Dan rolled his eyes in a sarcastic manner, grinning before as he led her through the back door. The pair had successfully avoided any attention, and was now walking through a labyrinth of corridors. Stopping as they approached a door, Zoe looked to Dan with a beaming smile. “Break a leg!” Dan’s eyes widened, making her giggle as she playfully punched his arm. Smiling sheepishly, he watched her disappear through the door and into the energetic crowd.

In all honesty, Zoe had never truly experienced a concert before. She glanced around as she breathed in the heavy, humid air, which coated the inside of her throat. Never the less, she saw a room full of smiles and anticipating fans. When the lights dimmed, the crowd roared, and she was soon watching an ecstatic band open their concert. The atmosphere was electric.

“All this bad blood here, won’t you let it lie?”

She fell in love with their music as it hit her ears, questioning her limited taste in music as to why she’d never heard of Bastille before. A permanent smile was etched to her face consistently throughout the entire concert.

Whilst the crowds of overjoyed supporters pilled out of the building, still breathlessly singing Bastille’s melodies, Zoe fought her way through to the door which she’d entered from. A rugged and muscular man stepped forward. His colossal height meant that he towered over her diminutive frame, intimidating her as he quite literally barked in her face.