ATOMS OF YOU

3

— Whiskey? –he asked, and I nodded with my head. Why not?

He went in, and served two fancy glasses, as I sat on the big sofa across the room, taking my shoes off to put my feet up, without ruining the incredible black fabric from the big sofa.

— Cheers. –he said while he handed me the glass, proposing me to give a reason
— For you, Alex.
— And for you, Isla, who I came to see once again in the other side of the world. –I smiled, as I drank my glass, while observing him, as he observed me too
— You know you're really handsome, right? All those Sheffield girls must say it to you.
— Actually I never had a girlfriend round Sheffield, Americans tend to like me more. –he added funny like
— Well, I'm not European, I'm from the first world, I'm latina. –I laughed
— You are beautiful, Isla, you really are, I have never seen a girl so pretty, and I mean it. Look at you, with two whiskeys in your blood, after a shitty night and with no sleep too, you're radiantly beautiful.
So it was it. The whole morning flirting like this.
— You know that's a big lie. Maybe I'm pretty but not as you explain yourself.
— Woman, you don't even have makeup, your skin is amazing, so pale and perfect, and your red hair matches those beautiful eyes too.

The world could hear me blushing. I even felt that heat on my cheeks.

— You're just too much, are you even real? I mean, look at you. –I took a big drink from my glass, finishing it, starting to feel the alcohol in my head— You're so handsome, and modern, all polite and calm. I don't tend to like man but...–he interrupted.
— So you like me.
— I wasn't going to say that.

He rested his arm on the sofa's back, approaching me with those brown eyes and —now– messy hair. My drunkenness was playing me a bad one.

— So finish your sentence. Go ahead, woman.
— Don't call me like that.
— You're a woman, a beautiful one, I don't know why I wouldn't.

I broke the distance between us, and kissed him. I know I shouldn't have, maybe, but I also knew I might never see him again, so what. This were my vacations and for once I wanted to do what I pleased. I grabbed his neck with my hands, while he dared for once to touch my waist with his two hands too.
I sat over his legs, letting him hug my hips.

Our lips separated after some intense minutes, and a big smile over his appeared, while I threw my hair back.

— I might should go to sleep, right?
— Y-y-yeah, my places is yours, woman. –he stuttered, and stayed on the sofa

I walked across the room, and locked myself in his bedroom. I leaned my forehead on the door, biting my lips, questioning myself for being so stupidly shy.
I turned around and saw all his belongins.

A perfume on the night table, and a writing book, with a really nice pen. His bag on the other side too. A guitar next to the bed, a really beautiful one, I dared to open the case to see it, and closed it back. The wardrobe was open, with a lot of trousers folded, ordered by colors, two pairs of jeans, and a leather jacket. Some sunglasses too.

I walked to his bathroom, and saw a paper note glued to the mirror with some phrases along it, it was one by one, entitled with 'setlist'. I'm not fantasizing. This is happening. 

Snap out of it, one of the phrases. This has to do with something. On moments like this, I wish I had my phone, but for God sakes I have a good memory. I grabbed the room phone, and called my best friend, Luana.

— Babe, you won't believe how good was the Lollapalooza, I just got back home, it was insane to grab a bus.
— I imagine thought.
— Are you drunk? —she knew me too well
— That's not important. I need you right now. Snap out of it.
— What's wrong? –she started to alarm herself
— Nothing, just what's snap out of it?
— What's wrong with that song? Again your ex? What a bitch. –she couldn't stop complaining
— No, Luana, who's song is?
— So she dared with an Arctic Monkeys song, she really is a bitch.
— What about the guitarrist? Tell me about the Monkeys, please.
— Oh, they were amazing, I loved their show, Matt was looking so beautiful, and Jamie ugh, he's the love of my life.
— There's only two members?
— No, babe, there's Alex and Nick too. —so he's a guitarrist.
— Matt is the singer?
— See? You're drunk, Isla, where are you? —I was getting mad, this conversation was insane— I always told you, Alex is the lead singer and guitarrist, Jamie is another guitarrist, Matt the drummer and Nick is on the bass.
— And they're from...? —I was shook by now
— They are british, not exactly from where, Alex Turner always says he's from Sheffield. Wait, why are you asking this much? I'm not Wikipedia.
— Just asking babe, saw them on the news and I thought of you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Have a good sleep, baby, I love you.

I acted as nothing happened, because this whole situation was strange. I layed on the bed for a while, asking myself how would I confirm this whole thing.

Passport.

I walked to the suitcase next to the night table, and searched the outside pockets and...there was the passport. I sat on the floor and waited long minutes until I decided to open it.

— Come on, Isla, nothing will change, you never knew he was famous, and it would be worst if he was a creep. –I talked to myself, and the opened it with my eyes closed.

Alexander David Turner. January the 6th of 1986. Sheffield. Holy shit. And that was me thinking out loud. His picture confirmed it all. I put the passport right where it was, and walked to the bathroom to wash my face with some warm water.

I took my clothes off and sneaked into his bed, smelling his perfume on the pillows, letting my body spread all over the king size.

I looked the bedroom phone time, it was one o'clock, and I jumped out of the bed. My hair was a mess and my clothes were not where I left them. I ran to the bathroom and all over the bedroom, searching for them: nowhere.

I searched something in his wardrobe and grabbed a white t-shirt, it was big on me, so it covered my ass, most importantly. I opened the door, and the room was all alone. Super silent. No one was there, maybe his band partners called him and they needed to do something. I grabbed my shoes and walked to the door, grabbing the handle slowly, as the door hits my head, nocking myself.

— In my opinion, it's not the hit, I scared the shit out of her. – I heard Alex's voice
— Man, you knocked her out, don't try to disguise it.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Alex from below, and another guy, blue eyed and blonde. My eyes felt dizzy, and I was still trying to come back.

— She's still dizzy, put her legs up, look at her, she's whiter than a ghost.

Alex grabbed my legs, and held them up, while the other guy, started to move a hand over my face, speaking with no sense. My eyes closed once again, and even if I tried to open them, I was still seeing all black everything.

— Fuck you, Isla. –I cursed myself, before I opened my eyes and saw Alex again, with the blonde guy next to him
— Are you okay? You need us to call you an ambulance? —the blonde guy asked me
— Are you epileptic? Do you suffer from seizures? Are you taking any medication? —Alex asked this time
— Please don't call and ambulance, I'm okay, I swear. – I tried to stand up, but I fell once again onto Alex arms, then he helped me to sit down in the sofa.
— I don't think so. –they both said at the same time
— Bring me some sugar, don't you have some? – Alex asked, and the guy left this time.
— Isla, I need you to tell me if you take any medication or what can I do, you're really dizzy.

I repeated sugar for at least ten times, until I felt the sugar under my tongue, standing up made me feel even worst, I'm an idiot.

— It's okay, J, if anything happens, I'll call you. –he was at the door, and then I felt the door close, as I saw him again

He served a glass of water and got on his knees in front of my dizzy existence, helping me to drink some, and waving me some air too.

— Does anything hurt, Isla?
— Over here, do you see? –I pointed my chest, as he examinated me from his place, and I let him come closer
— Your lies, Alexander, your lies hurt. –he laughed and helped me to drink some more water, without saying anything else
— My pressure might be as low as it can be, because you scared the shit out of me, but you're an Arctic Monkey, little liar. –as the song in the mirror, as a reference
— So you investigated me, detective Isla.
— And who the fuck is Arabella? –he laughed really hard
— No one in particular, it's just a song, but can we please focus on lifting up your pressure?

He sat next to me, waving me some more air, as I tried to keep my head up, with him helping me too. I dipped my fingers into the glass water and then, I watered my face, trying really hard to feel better for once.

— I'm okay, I swear I won't fall again, I'm okay.
— Woman, you scared me the fuck up. –he sighed deeply
— I'm sorry, Alex, I was trying to leave and then I saw your face, and then nothing else, I was desperate because I didn't find my clothes and..
— I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to clean them, we smelled awfully after that bar, I sent our clothes to the hotel laundry, and as you slept so deeply, I asked for some food too, and I got out for two seconds with Jamie, my friend –I interrupted him
— Oh, so who was here it's Jamie, my best friend's crush. —he laughed now, a little more relaxed— Alex, it's okay, don't give me an explanation...Well, yes, explain me the whole Arctic Monkeys thing.