Paper Parachute | Celebrity Romance

6.

Pale morning light streamed through the window and disrupted Blair's sleep. She groaned as she turned over, raising a hand to rub at her eyes while she tried to adjust to her surroundings. As her vision cleared one thing became instantaneously evident: she wasn't in her own bed.

She sat up and her hand flew to her forehead immediately as a shooting pain radiated from her temple.

What the fuck had happened the night before?

Her carefully curated outfit had been substituted for a large black t-shirt with some band's logo emblazoned across the chest. With every passing moment she became increasingly more panicked about the situation.

She didn't remember leaving the party, who she had left with, or anything that had followed and that had her terrified.

One of those things was cleared up when Blake strode through the door, carrying a plate of toast and fruit, along with what appeared to be a glass of orange juice.

He stopped, lingering in the doorway when he saw that she was awake.

"Um, hi." He said, clearing his throat and dropping his gaze down to the tray. He sounded awfully unsure of himself and appeared immensely different than the version of him she could remember from the previous night.

Blair was having trouble forming words in the moment while her brain still struggled to piece together the events that had occurred, so she simply nodded. He seemed to take that as permission to enter the room stepping forward, handing her the juice and placing the plate on top of the covers, still carefully made on one side of the bed indicating, she hoped, that she had slept alone.

"You remember anything from last night?" He asked, sitting gingerly on the opposite edge of the bed.

"I remember being at the party. You and I talked and you introduced me to a few people." He nodded as she continued racking her brain for memories. "You left." She said looking up at him and cocking her head.

"Yeah, I um, was introducing you to people and then you were doing fine so I left you to mingle and the next time I saw you, you were puking your guts up. You said someone had given you a drink and I think it was drugged. I didn't know who your driver was and you couldn't tell me where you lived so I brought you here. I'm sorry for the shock I'm sure you had waking up but I didn't know what else to do."

"Where are my clothes?"

He pointed to a neatly folded pile on the dresser. "They um, they got a bit...dirty." He winced and she guessed he was recalling mental pictures of her the night before. "I didn't think you would want to sleep in vomit covered clothes so I just put you in one of my shirts."

The inside of her head was pounding so it took a few minutes of silence between them before she could process all the information he had given her. One thing was still surprising to her. "You didn't sleep here?"

"No." He said evenly. "I slept on the couch."

She was quiet, her lips pursing. "I'm just surprised." She admitted honestly. Guilt creeping in when she saw the flash of hurt come across his face.

"Fuck." He raked a hand through his curls and blew out a long, self-deprecating sigh. "I know I've got a bad reputation but I'm not a fucking rapist." He resigned, his eyes searching hers like he was looking for validation.

"You were drunk too though, right?" She asked seemingly trying to explain her thoughts more clearly.

"So?" He asked, the concern gone and replaced with something that looked more like a cross between annoyance and anger. "I don't know what kind of incredibly demented and fucked up version of me you've let the media warp your idea of who I am into, but for the record, I prefer my girls conscious and begging for it." His hands were clenched in fists at his side, arms shaking slightly. "I'm glad you seem to be fine and I apologize if you're pissed I had you sleep here. As I said I wasn't sure of what else to do. I'll call a car to take you home so you can sleep it off." With that he turned on his heel and disappeared from view, leaving her feeling like a complete and total asshole.

*

Once she was gone Blake felt himself begin to crumble. This was exactly why he hated attempting to let people in, they always disappointed him. In the five years he'd lived in this house he'd never brought a girl home with him, apart from Ashley. Always preferring to keep his home reserved for himself and those very few people that he let close to him. He'd strayed from that norm the night before and now he felt foolish. He'd thought he had seen something in her when they had been talking, some part of her that could believe that he was wholesome and good one day. It had been refreshing to not be completely written off from the get go and part of him had wanted to prove he could be all of those things still.

She, like everyone else though, seemed to be convinced that he was too far gone. He would never admit it, but it was soul crushing to be so consistently given up on.

He fell backwards onto his bed and closed his eyes, groaning when the scent of her perfume wafted into his nostrils.

This wasn't him and he hated that he'd let himself be vulnerable to someone he had literally just met. It was out of character and it had been a mistake.

He glanced at his phone for the time, he had an hour until he had to be at the studio. The screen of his phone held a missed call from the band's manager, Alex. He exhaled and rolled his eyes knowing he was surely in for a lecture but dialed the number anyways, better to just get it over with.

"Really Blake? Tidal's brand new fucking signee. She's been with the company all of two damn days and you're already in the tabloids dragging her into your car. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that someone drugged her fucking drink and she shouldn't be left alone incoherent." He said through gritted teeth into the phone. Why could he never catch a fucking break.

"What?" Alex asked, clearly not expecting the answer he had gotten.

"Someone gave her a drink that must have had something in it. I found her in the bathroom looking like absolute shit and figured it was best if she went somewhere to sleep it off. I didn't know how to get her to wherever she lives, so I had my driver take us to my place. I slept on the couch. I was just trying to be a decent human being for once."

"Well forgive me for not assuming that given your history." Alex practically laughed from the other end of the call.

Dick.

"Yeah, well, that's what happened. I have that interview with E! in an hour. What am I supposed to say?"

"Well you know damn well you can't say someone rufied her at a Tidal party. Just say you two have clicked quickly, she wasn't feeling well and you made sure she got home. You've never lied about sleeping with someone before so they don't have any reason not to believe you."

Blake clicked the end call button without allowing him to finish and threw the phone onto the bed beside him, he huffed and folded his arms across his chest.

When had his life become such an absolute shit show?

He lifted himself off the mattress and padded into his bathroom. He spun the tap on the shower and discarded his clothes to the floor determined to let the hot water wash away his frustrations.

He hated that he had let things get this bad, he hated how people thought of him, he hated that Blair had just expected him to be an asshole, that she expected him to have taken advantage of her.

Something had to change, this wasn't who he was, but he was terrified of the repercussions. He'd have to make himself vulnerable, he'd have to let his walls down and open himself up to the idea of being hurt again, and being hurt again was something he didn't know if he could bear.

AN: sooooo thoughts?

next chapter E! interview, band practice and meeting

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ILY

Sav