Chapter I

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I lost count of the drinks I've had. My vision is blurry and I feel tipsy, but I'm glad I'm losing control.
I wanted to lose control all week long.
There is a terrible band playing in the pub, and since it's only one a.m., there are quite a lot of people in here, mostly fat, sweaty men, and the air is uncomfortably warm.
Anyway I ask for my next drink, hoping this is the one that gets me really drunk.
I just want to forget everything. Everyone.
I gulp down the content of my glass quickly, feeling the alcohol working its way through my blood.

Suddenly, a guy sits next to me. It doesn't surprise me, but then I look at him.
He is different from the usual people I meet in this kind of places. He is good-looking and young, dressed with a leather jacket and with his quiff. I'd say he's rather sexy and my friends would find him "fuckable". He's got that look that just screams "you already love me!". And he also doesn't look as someone who gets drunk alone, without a friend. But he is apparently very alone.
I don't really know why I can see him so clearly between the fumes of alcohol.
He notices me too. He is probably thinking "what the fuck is a girl doing here?". I know that feeling.
And them he opens his mouth, and talks. "Hey there".
His voice hits me in the guts, maybe it's because I'm drunk. It's deep and the thick British accent here in America really feels like something.
I manage to answer, the words not flowing out smoothly, "hey."
He empties his glass and takes a Marlboro pack out of his pocket, puts one of the cigarettes between his lips and lights it.
"Want one?" He asks, cocking his eyebrow.
"Thanks." He lights it for me and I take a few breaths of smoke. God, how I missed it.
"Your name is?" I interrogate him.
"Alex, Alex Turner. And you are?" He half-smiles. I didn't notice, he's got really nice chocolate brown eyes.
"Jane."
"So, Jane, what are you doing here at night all alone?"
"I could ask you exactly the same question."I'm not going to tell you all my secrets so easily, Alex Turner.
"Let's say I'm escaping from my life" He says, still smiling.
"So am I."I don't smile. I don't trust you. You are way too hot to be here.
We just look at each other, on the defensive side, and then I feel the alcohol overwhelming me a bit.
"Don't you ever feel like you want to get away from everything? If I could, I would buy a car and run away, somewhere like Europe, and never look back again." He is unprepared for that flow of words,I can see it by the look in his eyes.
"You know, I travel a lot for my job, and unfortunately my problems are inside my head, so they follow me round easily."
"What do you do for a living, Alex Turner?" His name rolls smoothly on my tongue. I love that sound.
"I, well, have a band"
"Are you famous?"
"Not yet, I hope we will." He orders another pair of drinks, including mine.
"And what do you do, Jane?" He asks, curiously.
"I study Art and I work at a Mexican restaurant. I know, yours is more impressive. You win, I'm defeated." He chuckles quietly.
"Tell me something else about you"
"I live with my best friend, Sarah. We've known each other since high school. She studies Economics and she's intelligent as fuck. And also way too good looking, she annoys me sometimes." I pause. I don't really know or care what I'm blabbering about. "I play piano and sometimes sing, but I am not good at all. I love bands and musicians from the sixties or the seventies, my father transmitted this unconditional adoration for the Beatles. I am usually introvert and quiet, but not because I'm shy because I'm totally convinced that people are terrible as fuck. Of course, I love art and poetry. And I want to be a museum administrator." I look at him. "Your turn"
He smiles " I play guitar. My best friends are my band mates and we all love each other like brothers. We live together almost all year long. I like art too and I like the Beatles too." I allow myself a small smile. " and I find girls who love art and poetry who get drunk alone in a pub where a shitty band plays really attractive".
I sip my drink, trying to avoid the big grin growing on my lips.

We talk all night long, we drink and we smoke together. Sarah is probably worried as fuck but I don't care at all.
We talk about what we believe in, we talk about our music taste, we argue about art, we chat about poetry, we share our favorite books. We also tell each other about our friends and families.

The last thing I remember is him saying "I wish I met you when I was sober."

_______________________________________________________________
Hello everyone!
My name is Valeria, and I am a huge fan of the Arctic Monkeys.
I woke up in the middle of the night because I had this idea, and I hope someone reads and gives me feedback about this.
Sorry for any mistake in the language, of course English is not my mother tongue, so don't esitate to correct any error.
Love y'all.
Xoxo

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