Bite My Tongue (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction)

Blessed With a Curse

It's been a few days since the party and we were in Chicago. Matt and I give each other side glances, testing each other to see who would break first. We both knew that this wouldn't stay a secret for long. I just kept to myself lately, and no one has really said anything. Other than my strange telepathic battle with Matt, I haven't spoken to Ben or Josh at all since the party and I didn't really plan on it. I was hoping that Ben forgot it was me he slept with and I hoped that Josh didn't decide he wanted to be friends again or anything.

I was sitting back stage at the venue in Chicago, just scrolling through things on my phone and checking in on how things were back at home in Philly. I was starting to get really home sick and it sucked but we really weren't that far away from going home and I knew I would miss tour once it was over. The guys were in the middle of sound check and it wouldn't be long before they were back in here.

Kitty was the first person to walk back into the room, but he was by himself. He sat down next to me and said, "I think me and some of the guys are going to check out some more of the city, maybe hang out on the Asking bus, do you want to come?" He was becoming suspicious of the way I was acting and it made me nervous. What if he asked the guys if they knew what was going on and Matt told them?

"No thanks, I think I'll just hangout here until the show, we only have a few more hours anyway." I declined, hoping he wouldn't look into it too much. I really didn't want to be anywhere near anyone in Asking Alexandria in case any of them knew about me and Ben. I also really didn't want to be anywhere near Ben. I didn't want to know if he remembered or if he told anyone anything.

I was terrified of them going to the Asking bus because something might slip out about me sleeping with Ben and that would screw me over too. It wasn't like I could just forbid them from going, though, then they would really know that something was up.

"Is everything okay?" He asked. I could tell he was actually kind of worried about me and it was sweet to know that he cared, but he couldn't know anything, no matter how much I trusted him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired and a little homesick. I'll be okay, now go have fun." I hated lying to him. He was being a good friend, and trying help me but there was no way that I could tell him or anyone else what was going on. I didn't want them to think badly of me, because I was a good person and I made one mistake with a guy. I didn't want that to be what defined me to these guys. I wanted them to genuinely like me.

He smile sadly and pet my hair before walking out. I could feel him stop and glance back and me and I did the best that I could to not look back at him, hoping that he would leave me alone. As soon as he was out of my line of sight I let out a breath I didn't really know I was holding in; relieved that he bought my story.

I thought that I was finally just by myself for a while, with no sweaty, gross, drama-inducing boys. I could finally breathe a little better and not have to worry about so many questions that I would have to make up answers for off the top of my head. But, of course, my relief was quickly shattered because Oliver walked into the room looking both angry and very smug which scared me.

"I know why you've been acting so weird lately." He said, getting straight to the point. He stood directly in front of me, making it practically impossible to ignore him.

My mind panicked; did he really know? How did he find out? Did Matt tell him? Did he tell Phil? Did he tell anyone? God, I was going to be sick.

"I'm tired and homesick, the same thing I told Kitty like ten seconds ago." I stood up, trying to help myself feel less intimidated. It didn't really work but I stayed where I was anyway. If Oliver really knew the truth he would think of me as some band slut and want nothing to do with me, just when I thought that we were getting to a point of a decent friendship. Maybe even more than friendship - but I couldn't think that way just yet.

"You fucked Ben." His smirk was confident and he looked me dead in the eyes and there was no way that I could lie to him convincingly, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. But how did he know?

"What makes you think that?" I asked, trying to sound offended and not like I was afraid of how he knew (even though I was pretty obviously afraid). I could hear my voice waver, and my stance was more slumped and less confident. I was completely screwed. Oliver knew. He knew that I slept with Ben and he was going to possibly ruin my reputation for it.

"Yes or no?" He stepped closer and I tried to step back but the couch behind me didn't allow it. He had me trapped and I knew that I would have to admit what happened sooner rather than later.

I was scared of what he would think if he knew, or what he already thinks since he does know. He probably thinks I'm a slut and is going to ruin my reputation within these bands, if I hadn't already done that much on my own. He might tell Phil and he would give me that sad look and tell me that I needed to learn how to respect myself and that I should have thought about what I was doing before I did it. I would have to feel like a little kid all over again and listen to his lectures.

I couldn't bear for anyone else to know what happened, and I was already mad at myself for doing it. I thought about how much I screwed up every day and I wanted so badly to take it back but there was nothing I could do, it had already done. I wanted to scream – I wanted to scream at myself for fucking up and at Ben for starting it and at Oliver for practically torturing me for it. I can't remember the last time I had been this angry.

"Why do you give a fuck who I slept with?" I wanted to yell, but I settled for a low angry voice. Maybe if he thought that I was mad enough he would drop the subject, or feel bad for bullying me a little bit. Unlikely, but it was worth a shot. And I was angry.

"Because he beat me to it." He pulled me close to him, his hands on my neck and the back of my head and kissed me. It was harsh and rough, and the opposite of romantic. It was nothing like kissing Ben, it was a different kind of feeling that I don't think I have ever encountered. The hopeless romantic in me wanted to believe that it was love, and it was the spark that everyone felt with the person they were meant to be with. 

On the other hand, the realistic part of my brain knew that it was lust, and the only reason that he was kissing me was because he wanted to get laid and I was the only girl close by, and now I had a reputation for being easy to get into bed with. 

But, despite all of that, it was easily the best kiss of my life.