Always You || Simon Minter (miniminter)

Chapter 3

1 Week Later

I wake to shouting.

Not normal shouting. JJ shouting.
His voice ricochets through the house like someone set off a foghorn in a cathedral, and it makes me wince so hard my eyes water. I don't know how one person can hit pitches that high first thing in the morning.

I force myself out of bed, feet sinking into the soft carpet, and head for the bathroom. Even after a week here, the size of it still throws me off. It's almost as big as my entire living room back home. Steam curls around the tiles as I shower quickly, letting the hot water untangle my sleep-fogged thoughts.

I pull on leggings and one of the oversized lilac Sidemen hoodies JJ gave me — one in every colour, of course. "For comfort," he'd said. Basically gifting me a new uniform for the foreseeable future.

Downstairs, the shouting grows louder.
Groans. Complaints. Someone threatening violence if JJ doesn't shut up.

I open the kitchen door and step into chaos.

Most of the boys , minus Simon and Ethan are slumped around the island like half-dead soldiers. They look grey, defeated, and deeply hungover. Meanwhile JJ, who somehow looks perfectly fine, is pacing the room, shouting dramatically at no one in particular.

"Good afternoon, Millie." He mocks, sweeping me into a hug that almost breaks my spine.

"JJ," Vikk whines, clutching his tea like it's a life source, "please get him to shut up. We're all dying slowly."

I laugh, then slap JJ lightly across the face — which he pretends to be deeply offended by, right before he throws me over his shoulder. I screech, kicking uselessly as he parades me around like I weigh nothing.

This happens daily.
It's his twisted way of showing affection.

He finally sets me down as footsteps shuffle into the room. Simon and Ethan both enter looking like ghosts dragging themselves out of a crypt.

"You okay?" I ask with a sympathetic smile.

"I feel like I'm dying," Simon groans, sinking into a stool.

"We all do, mate," Josh mutters.

The kitchen fills with tired laughter, and something warm settles in my chest.
It still feels strange waking up surrounded by people.
Strange... but good.
Like I'm learning how to be human again.

"What's the plan today?" JJ asks, sitting cross-legged on the island like a child.

"We need to plan today's video," Simon says, trying to gather everyone's attention.

Silence.
Blank stares.
A collective hangover haze.

"Okay. Excellent," he sighs, laughing.

Ethan squints one eye open. "You laugh, you lose?"

It's the only idea anyone has the energy for, and that's enough.

While they start setting up, I head upstairs to finally unpack. It took JJ a full week of pestering to convince me. My suitcase has been sitting like a stubborn reminder of home in the corner of my room.

I empty clothes into the drawers, arrange makeup on the desk, and untangle the nightmare of wires that apparently formed a sentient creature inside my bag.

A knock.

"Millie!"
JJ's grin appears before his head fully peeks through the door. That grin means trouble.

"What?" I ask warily.

He doesn't answer. He just grabs my wrist and drags me upstairs.

The filming setup is simple: a table, two chairs facing each other, a camera recording the battlefield. The boys argue over who goes first until Tobi points at JJ and Simon.

They sit. Stare at each other.
A silent showdown.

"Why do cows have hooves instead of toes?" JJ asks, barely holding it in.

Simon narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Because they lactose."

The room collapses into laughter — loud, chaotic, uncontrollable. Even I can't hold it in. Simon loses immediately, nearly falling off the chair.

The jokes only get worse from there. At one point Ethan is wearing swimming goggles, and I don't even ask why. I just enjoy watching them — laughing together, teasing each other, existing in this easy, warm chaos.

When it ends, we all spill back downstairs.

"Millie, help me make dinner?" Simon asks as we reach the kitchen. His tone is casual, not demanding, just hopeful.

"Sure."

Cooking with him is unexpectedly easy. Comfortable. The kitchen smells like garlic and tomatoes — though I strongly suspect the "homemade sauce" came from a jar. I chop onions while he stirs pasta, humming under his breath.

"So," he says, eyes on the pot, "how are you liking it here?"

I glance up. His expression is open, not prying, just curious.

"Honestly?" I smile. "I love it."

His dimple appears, softening his whole face.

Silence settles between us again — not awkward, just warm.

Then he asks, casually at first but with clear nerves:

"So... do you have a boyfriend?"

I freeze for a second.
Of all the questions.

"No," I laugh. "Why?"

His eyes widen slightly. "I was just asking— I didn't mean— I wasn't—"

He runs a hand through his hair, cheeks turning the faintest rosy pink.

I tilt my head. "What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

His head snaps up, mortified, and I burst out laughing. He groans into his hands while I cackle.

"Fuck off," he mumbles, smiling behind his palms.

Dinner finishes soon after, and we bring it to the living room where Harry and Josh are arguing about something on the TV.

"So," Harry says with a cheeky grin, "how about we give our guest a proper Sidemen welcome tonight? Little party? We've been lazy all week."

The boys eye each other uncertainly.

Then I shrug. "Fuck it. Why not?"

Simon catches my eye across the room and gives me a lazy wink, all playful and effortless.
Warmth rushes up my neck, unexpected but not unpleasant.

JJ cheers. The others agree.

Looks like tonight is going to be... interesting