Something More | Randy

chapter eighteen | girlfriend

I couldn't be apart from him. Even the two metre distance between our beds in the shared hotel room was too much space. When we finally made it back that night, we lingered in the bathroom after we'd brushed our teeth, procrastinating our exit with a string of soft soundless minty kisses.

"I love you," he'd mumbled into my cheek, smothered in a final peck, before we'd parted ways for the night. I fell asleep smiling uncontrollably, heart slamming against my ribcage.  

We were distracted the next day by our final show of the tour, after which the five of us celebrated into the night. I kissed him in front of the boys after a few drinks, knowing in our high spirited frenzy it would be innocuous enough. I caught knowing looks from Brooklyn and Jack anyway. Eventually, we all crashed in one hotel room in a pile. I passed out on his chest, with one of his arms loosely draped around me, surrounded by my best friends. 

Then we were on a plane, England awaiting us. 

I had missed home, but was also dreading being back on solid ground. Up here in the air, Rye's hand was in mine, and we were thirty thousand feet above any complications that were waiting to face us. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into my palm, reminding me that whatever struggles awaited us, at least this time we would battle them together. 

***

As promised, reality invaded as soon as we made it onto home soil. Kylie was expecting to see her boyfriend pretty much straight away, after being apart for a month. We took a recovery day to sleep off the tour, but after that there was no avoiding what needed to be done. I felt a pang of guilt towards the girl who had always been nice to me, as Rye invited her round on our second evening home. 

I was pacing around the kitchen aimlessly, unable to keep still as the two of them talked upstairs in Rye's room. I felt like I should get out of the house. Despite this being my home too, it felt disrespectful to just be here waiting for Rye to cut Kylie loose so that I could go to him. There were no protocols for starting a relationship with someone you already lived with, and it felt odd to not give him space to mourn his previous relationship, even though we'd been together every day for most of our recent lives. It seemed wrong to be getting into his bed while his former lover was still pulling out of the driveway. 

I grabbed Rye's car keys from the bench, deciding that driving round pointlessly for a while was the best possible solution I could come up with. Before I made it out the door, my phone lit up.

Brooky: R u home?

Andy: yes, in the kitchen

Brooky: Can u come to my room please 

Andy: sure...

This was odd, Brook and I rarely hung out in each other's rooms. I had a bad feeling already. I abandoned the driving plan and headed upstairs. 

Brook's room was messy, and smelled faintly of lizard, as it always did. Brook was curled up in the middle of his bed, watching something on his phone. 

"Brooky?" I called into the room.

"Come look at this." He sounded upset. Gingerly, I made my way through the piles of clothing to perch on his bed.

"What is it?"

Brook handed me the phone, "This came up in my tagged."

I took the phone anxiously, expecting to see some kind of hate or threatening message on there towards Brooklyn. I couldn't have predicted what I saw instead. 

It was a video post from a fan page. The caption read: @iamjackduff stop breaking my Jacklyn heart!!!! Love u tho xxx. The video itself appeared to be an excerpt from a livestream by Jack, which I realised by the clothing he was wearing, must have been broadcast tonight.