Live Through This/ Liam Gallagher

CHAPTER TWELVE

The show started less than an hour later and I'd decided to watch from backstage instead of going out in the crowd. So, I was comfortably watching the show, cigarette clutched in my hand, occasionally taking drags off it.

I didn't know what I was expecting, but the way the crowd seemed to take to Liam, listening and holding onto his every word, it was special. Something you didn't really see in musicians anymore, not in the crisp, clean, copycat ones anyways.

My amazement with the live version of 'Supersonic' was interrupted by making eye contact with Noel, who seemed to glare at me, still angry from our "altercation" earlier, if you could even call it that to begin with.

Quickly looking away, I turned back to Liam, uncomfortable even looking in the direction of Noel at the moment.

While I had known everything that had come out of his mouth was a complete and utter lie, it still hurt. I mean, who wants to be called a whore by your possible partner's brother, who just so happens to be Noel Gallagher. Maybe I just had shitty luck, as it was starting to feel like that. I was irked that he didn't like me.

I'd never really met anyone who hated me, bad opinions about me usually faded once I met someone.

Apparently not with Noel.

Had I offended him somehow?

I seemed to get so distracted to the point where I don't even realize that someone had been tapping my shoulder for a few seconds now. As I snapped out of it, I realized it was one of the staff members at the venue. "There's a call for you. Someone named Pretty Boy?" the girl questions.

I sigh, only Damon would call the venue using Courtney's name for him. "Did he say what he needed?" I ask, the girl shakes her head, before saying, "They have it waiting in the dressing room." Hesitantly, I look back at the stage and Liam, before glancing back at the girl.

It would only take a moment, right? After all. It would take my mind off the issue that was Noel Gallagher for a few minutes, so I nod, letting her lead me to the dressing room and I take the phone into my hand. "Damon? What the hell do you want?" I ask confusedly

"How's the show?" He asks nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just interrupted it for me.

"You called in the middle of it! I went back to the dressing room to answer this." I say irritatedly.

"Oh, sorry. That's a shame, by the way, while I have you here, how do you spell obliterate?" He asks .

"What?" I ask

"How do you spell obliterate? They've spelled it weirdly on your album."

"O-B-L-I-T-E-R-A-T-E. And what does that mean?"

"Bought a copy of Obliterate. They've spelled it wrong." with that he hung up, leaving me confused.

"What do you mean they've?" But I was cut off. The line was blank.

I sigh, placing the phone down and heading backstage, which was now filled with what appeared to be a few different groups of fans, all of which noticed my presence in the room.

People were moving out of the way, as I made my way to the front, hiding behind the curtains just barely, fixated on Liam entirely. It seemed like he hadn't even noticed my absence.

I had watched a televised performance of Oasis on MTV about two years ago, never thought anything of it till now. But the effort and level of performance in everyone.

It made me smile.

Until I heard the whispers of a few girls behind me.

"I heard her and Noel fighting before the show."