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a-rush-of-dreams-to-the-head · 7 years

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It had been months of painful anticipation. As the weeks ticked by one by one, excruciatingly slow for your patience, you had got evermore excited for the concert of a lifetime.

Coldplay.

Getting the tickets hadn't been easy, but you'd been insistent and here you stood. Waiting for the mediocre warm up act to leave so you could experience what you had craved since you first heard the melancholy notes of Chris Martin's voice y years ago.

And finally, without fanfare the moment was here. You pressed further against the crowd, managing to slip to the very front - bar the apathetic looking bouncer holding back the crowd. The band entered the stage and soon you were absorbed in a world you had only dreamed of.

When "Yellow" started to play, you could feel your heart stop dead in your chest, this song had got you on the brink of tears too many a time and to hear it live was a joy - tears certainly streamed down your face. Although you had grabbed a front line position Chris had stayed unusually close to centre stage so far in the show which you thought was curious. However, this also leaves you entirely unprepared when mid-way through the song he strides down the catwalk and stares you dead in the eye, his head tilting slightly as he seemingly sings directly to you.

"for you I’d bleed myself dry"

You felt your legs give way under you and the last thing you remember is the feeling of hitting the ground and a look of alarm in bright blue eyes.

Next thing you know you woke up lying on a strange sofa with a pain in the back of your skull. You delicately try to open your eyes but squint heavily in the brightly lit room. As you make a futile attempt to sit up you hear a nearby rustling sound.

"Oh god, are you feeling OK? that was quite a fall you took there!" A voice questions above you, and you force your eyes open to see a man standing over you.

"Well your eyes are working well enough" he says with a friendly smile.

"I'm" he hesitated " you'd know me as Roadie 42; I do by far best blogs for this band" he chuckles faintly as if at an old joke and the turns his attention back to you.

"Can you get up OK?"

You nod hesitantly and take his outstretched hand to guide yourself back to a vertical position. Fuck, what the hell had happened?

You were about to ask this, but just as your mouth opened to form the words the doors in front of you burst open and in walked the entirety of the band, in full post-concert glory.

If you knew anything in that moment it was that you would have once again tried to fight the floor with your face if not for a very amused looking blue eyed man's hands that firmly held you in place.

"Got you this time" he said with a smile that seemed to make the whole room feel warmer and a wink that set your skin on fire. The first thought that then crossed your mind was that if not for the grip he still had on you, standing would be unlikely- the second was what the hell had happened that had ended with you in the arms of Christopher Anthony Martin with the rest of the band amusedly looking on.

Chapter two - A

"Errrr" is all you can manage to say. Just looking into those eyes is rendering you completely dumb. This looks silly you think to yourself. I've gotta say something. Anything. But words just aren't forming. He's still looking at you. Slightly concerned now. Oh god the fear must be showing in your face. Maybe he thinks you're insane?

Before you can make another futile attempt at replying the back of his hand rests gently on your forehead.

"Are you feeling okay? You're pretty hot. Maybe you should sit back down." You allow yourself to be slowly moved towards an uncomfortable looking sofa. Too busy contemplating that Chris Martin just said you were hot to offer any kind of resistance.

"I'm okay..." You manage to say. Albeit unconvincingly. You daren't look at Chris again. You take a deep breath to try again. But the next thing you know Guy Berryman is handing you a bottle of water and smiling. It looks like he doesn't know whether to be concerned or laugh. Great. You think. Guy Berryman thinks I'm delirious.

You can faintly hear cheers and shouts in the background and start to worry it's in your head. Before you have time to wonder what it is, an angry security guard slams the door open.

"They've been waiting for the encore for 5 minutes!! What're you doing in here??" Chris immediately stands up and you feel cold where he was holding you steady before. You stop yourself from reaching out to him or doing anything embarrassing.

"You can stay here until after the show. We'll come back in about 20 minutes and see how you feel. Okay?" His smile is genuine and warm, and you're feeling better already.

"Sure," you nod enthusiastically (but not too enthusiastically. You're still not feeling great) and then he, and the rest of the band, were running out the door back to the stage.

The door clicks shut and you're left in the quiet of the room. 'Roadie 42' is staring at his phone looking wholly uninterested in anything about what you're doing.

You take the quiet moment to look around. It's a very modern back-stage room, with white material all around and purple mood lamps. What an odd colour you think. Your sofa is white and you're glad your drink is only water so you can’t stain it. There are Union Jack throw cushions, which you think are a nice touch.

You suddenly think about home. You should text your mum and make sure she knows what happened. Maybe she'll send you taxi money so you won't have to get the train. It's gross at night. You can't even see the stars because of the light pollution. It's just dirty clouds and questionable characters.

You go to pull your phone out and stop in your tracks. You forgot that your background was a picture of Chris playing piano. You make a note to change it later. You don't need to look any more like a cringe superfan than you already do.

You hear thunderous applause and Chris shouting "thank you very much Wembley!!" and a couple of minutes later Chris slowly opens the door again and peeks his head in. You're slouching with a cushion in your lap and you make an effort to sit up. But Chris waves you off.

"It's alright. Don't exert yourself," you sit up anyway and move the cushion to the side.

"I'm feeling much better." You say adamantly. And it's true.

Chris gently leans forward and looks into your eyes. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger he inches closer. He looks sceptical but his expression softens into a sad smile. "You have lovely eyes..." He muses as if thinking aloud and you don’t even notice the rest of the band enter.

You can feel your heart beating fast in your chest. Oh god what if he can hear it? You internally panic but he seems not to notice and continues to look you over.

"Chris she’s has fainted once already today, stop smouldering and give her some space” you hear Will lament for the wall he was currently leaning on.

He rocks forward to rest his weight on his toes and smiles at you.

"Sorry what's your name? None of these idiots have asked yet" his smile relaxes you and you reply

"Y/N, it's Y/N"

His smile widens and he takes a slight step toward you.

"And what a shame we've missed out on that name so far. I'm Will" he adds

"Percussionist extraordinaire" Chris adds with a smile.

"Um nice to meet you Will, I mean I like knew but um- yeah...” You trail off regretting speaking. However he doesn't seem creeped out, in fact his smile widens more and you wonder if it’s hurting him to maintain.

"You seem better but I don't know if you'll be okay to get home by yourself" Chris speaks up breaking the silence, and in fact the eye contact between you and the muscular drummer, in fact you notice he has shifted to almost block you entirely from the rest of the band.

"Have we even established yet WHY she fainted" a quiet voice piped up

you assumed it was Jonny, but with Chris' broad chest blocking your view of most of the room you could only guess.

Chris tensed slightly. "Yes... Yes you're right Jay" he ruminated. Guess you were right about the owner of the voice. Guy decided to join in, "Guys, she did miss most of the concert."

You look up at Chris and he looks deep in thought for a few seconds. He gestures to the rest of the band and they form a sort of semi huddle on the corner. You look around trying not to seem like you are desperately panicking and see 'Anchorman' look up from his phone. He looks back questioningly for a second, then looks at the huddled boys chuckles and resumes his scrolling. You turn back around and see Chris smiling that heart melting smile again. "On behalf of Coldplay, the best , the sexiest, the most awesome band in the world, I invite you to join us for our post-concert shenanigans to make up for your brief unconscious bout." he recites proudly with a face like a child at Christmas.

Stunned, you watch him to see if it's a joke. His eyes are sincere. You smile shyly and nod slowly a grin spreading across your face. Is this really happening?

Everyone starts to move then and you feel what you assume is Will's hand pressed up against your back guiding you out of the room and down an obviously backstage corridor. You two are soon engaged in conversation about your university course and you could feel yourself relaxing into the light pressure of his arm as you discuss a subject close to your heart. In part, you couldn't believe it. Here you were having a conversation with WILL FUCKING CHAMPION. You try to live in the moment and not let this paralyzing fear stop you. So, deep are you in conversation that you don't notice the odd looks of Chris or, in fact the thoughtful face of Guy Berryman - resident bassist. You do however notice Jonny stealing quick curious glances at you but pass it off as something you don't need to worry yourself about. Soon you are at the door of a shiny black four by four, your current conversation partner opens it for you and you slide in, still not quite believing the situation you have found yourself. However, instead of Will following you in, you suddenly find Chris sitting right next to you -not that you’re complaining despite your pulse being increased tenfold and the fact every bit of your skin in contact with his burns with furious heat. You desperately try not to blush like the giggling school girl you are but by the amused glances from a Mr Berryman seated opposite you, you assume your efforts are fruitless. The band descend into post-concert banter, and for the most part you were relieved to have a moment to drink it all in. You were lost in fascinated appreciation of what was happening to you when the conversation took a turn.

"So Y/N" Jonny asks you curiously from across the car "have you established the cause of your unconsciousness?"

Chapter 4

The rest of the band look over at you as well. You feel the blush creeping back into your face and try to shake it off. You can't exactly say it was shock from when Chris looked at you, can you? That would get you a one way ticket out of this limousine faster than you'd have thought possible. Johnny's head is cocked to the side slightly. He's probably concerned.

"Dehydration!" You blurt. Not wanting the awkward silence you'd created go on any longer. It was getting unbearable. "I-er... Forgot to drink anything today. But I'm much better now. I had some water whilst you were doing the encore." You're impressed by your flawless lie. Delivery could have been better though. You clear your throat as if that will make your voice seem less shaky than it was. You look up to see if it worked. Johnny is nodding slowly and Will is wearing an expression you can't read (which you take to be normal). Guy is looking at Chris quizzically and Chris (who is still quite close) is looking at you with concern on his face. You're worried he's going to grab your chin again when Johnny laughs.

"You sure Chris didn't woo you? It has been known to happen!!" They all laugh and as the banter continues you try not to blush.

Johnny looks over a couple of minutes later and shoots you a knowing smile. You still don't know how to react but before you can pretend everything is normal the limousine stops and the chauffeur opens the door for the boys.

They all file out. Wanting to let loose after the concert. Chris stops before he gets out. "You sure you're okay?"

You don't give your throat time to close. No time to look like an idiot now. "A little partying never hurt anyone," you grin at him and he grins back and extends his hand to you

"M'lady?" His eyes glitter mischievously and you take his hand. Getting out of the car you squint past the unexpected bright flashes of cameras. You instinctively tighten your grip on Chris's hand and are met with an answering squeeze as he pulls you forward towards the rest of the bandmates who are gathered by the entrance to the expensive and fancy looking nightclub.

Chapter 5

You enter the building with the band and fins yourself in a modern looking minimalistic lobby with plain albeit expensive paintings littered across the walls and little exotic flowers in vases that looked to be more than you earn in a year adorning each available surface. You breathe the ruminating scent gently and try not to gag at its intensity. You see Guy visibly choking and hold back a laugh. Tonight seems like it’s going to be the best night of your life; even with the horrific flower smell. There is a man in his mid-thirties who seems to be some sort of receptionist, dressed in a, in your opinion, pretentious looking suit. What kind of nightclubs have receptionists you think, but alas here he was and you don’t know much about top-of-the-range nightclubs so you ignore him. You also spot several beefy looking bouncers guarding the frosted glass entrance to what seemed to be the place you were headed, as well as dotted around the room. You notice none of them have really taken notice of any of the band entering the building, I guess they’re used to it, you think. Chris bends down, fuck he’s so tall, and aligns his mouth with your ear.

“I’ll be right back” he whispers, then let’s go of your now-cold hand and wanders toward the showy looking man and his fancy desk. You are still suffering from the aftershocks of his face being so close and feel greatly relieved that Jonny seems to be facing the other way and can’t see what you assume to be your beet-red face.

You are waiting for a few moments nervously looking around the room before you feel a heavy pressure on your shoulder. Assuming one of the band had snuck up on you, you turn. Instead, you find yourself face-to-face with an angry looking bald bouncer who starts propelling you around the corner you were standing next to towards a door labelled “emergency exit”. He is taller than you but only slightly but you note his physical fitness, excluding this man’s slight beer belly and repulsive eye-bags What is happening? You think, too shocked to do much but be pushed.

“Fucking slutty fan girls” he mutters, “fucking making my job harder every fucking day”.

“How the fuck do you little shits even get in anymore? We vermin proofed the entire bloody building!” He starts to laugh but the pressure on your back gets more violent as you feel his nails dig into you. You suddenly realise what’s happening and begin to struggle but he just pushes you harder, now grabbing both of your arms and yanking them behind you. I guess I do look the part of a crazy-ass fan. You think. Probably because I am one, to be fair.

“wait…no...I’m… I’m with the band” you manage to squeak trying to wrestle your hands free. The bouncer snorts with a cruel chuckle,

“Yeah sure darling, and Chris fucking Martin is your boyfriend,” He’s spun you around to face him now, face so close you can feel his breath. “You desperate whores are all the same. Even that fucking lanky-ass man wouldn’t have you sweetheart hahahah-”

He is interrupted mid laugh by a hand land hard on his shoulder.

“As a matter of fact,” The giant of a man had a stormy look on his face that both scared you and made you want to melt. Chris, save me, your thoughts scream. “Me and my GIRLFRIEND here were just about to have drinks in the VIP lounge this ‘lanky man’ paid an extortionate amount of money for.” Wait, what!? “So, if you be as kind as you take your fucking hands off her immediately, I would be extremely pleased.” A look passes between the two men and the bouncer quickly lets go of you. “Now, apologise to Y/N here, before I have my drummer take you into that ally and teach you how we treat people who talk like that. Believe me, he’ll enjoy it after I repeat what you just said.” Chris states with such an unbelievably harsh tone to his voice that you barely believe its him talking. The bouncer muddily apologises then quickly gets as far away as possible from you both..

Chris has his hands on your shoulder now and is bending down to look into your face.

“Y/N, Y/N look at me, are you ok?” he asks urgently and you realise you’re shaking. You nod the affirmative, being unable to form words again. Am I dreaming, did he call me his girlfriend!? If I’m dead this is my kind of heaven. Your mind is racing.

“You look like you’re going to faint again” Chris mutters, placing both of his cold hands on either side of your face and wiping away the tears that had formed in your eyes with his thumbs.

“Any better?” he breathes soothingly, unbearably close to your face, and you find it hard to parallel this man in front of you with the unusually hostile one you just saw. You consider the likelihood of fainting again but being this close to his eyes you feel entranced and a weird sort of calm descends over you for a moment.

“I’m…I’m fine Chris” you reply finally, “Just a little bit shaken, I guess.” you see the fire almost entirely leave his eyes at your words and a hesitant smile takes its place.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that by the way.” he adds quietly his left hand moving off your face to run his fingers through his golden curls (you try not to stare at them in wonder because you decide you look enough like a creeper already) in a gesture that you’d probably point to nervousness if you didn’t know any better. Cause why the fuck would Chris be nervous, you think. “I mean, for saying you were my girlfriend. I just wanted to wipe that smug bastard’s smile off his face... He shouldn’t dare to touch you again though.”

“Or maybe I’ll just have Will beat him up anyway. Fuck it, I’ll even do it”

He pauses for a moment to look around then turns back to look you in the eyes again, a hint of the steel that just left them returning.

“But next time, if anything like that happens, you shout for me, OK Y/N?” he takes an almost hesitant breath and pauses. “And don’t let people like that put you down.” He adds. Being still unable to speak and just not wanting to ever stop looking into the ocean pools that called themselves his eyes, you hurriedly nod. Jesus bloody Christ I am a weak-ass wreck was the only coherent thought you could muster as Chis links his arm with yours, pulls you tight toward his body and you walk together toward the frosted glass door that you assume the rest of the band had already passed into while you were – ‘otherwise occupied’.

When you walk in you're bowled over by the beautiful interior. You're glad, however, that the nasty flower smell isn't in here. It's fancier than anywhere you've ever been before. The minimalistic style of outside is mirrored with smooth white marble surfaces and delicate black accents. The band are sat around the table, laughing. They have elaborate and fancy drinks in front of them. Except Will who has some sort of beer and looks curiously unreadable, as per usual.

You only realise you're grinning when the guys look up and laugh at you linking arms with Chris.

"You two aren't suspiciously late at all…" Jonny winks at you whilst saying it and you feel a blush begin. He smirks. Wait, he didn't do that on purpose, right?

As you move into a seat between him and Chris you turn your attention to Guy's peachy orange and delicious looking drink. "What's that?" You marvel and you notice that all of their expressions soften. You blush harder at being so uneducated.

"That, my dear, is a sparkling grapefruit champagne cocktail with Lillet rosé and peach." You're too busy trying to contain your blush that you don't notice the look Chris gives him. But Jonny does and quickly tries to resolve any potential tension.

"You want anything, Y/N?" He asks.

"I honestly… have no idea.” They all smile at you and you laugh a little, shrugging your shoulders. “What would you recommend?" You're not expecting the wide grin Jonny gives you. Nor are you expecting what next comes out of his mouth.

"Chris. Do the lady a favour and give her a sex on the beach would ya?" Chris goes wide eyed and splutters

"I-er-um okay?" Before stumbling out his seat before the table could see his red face. You blush furiously as well, remembering the reality of the situation you are in. You ponder what Jonny is doing whilst all three remaining members laugh at you and guy moves into Chris's, now vacant space and you begin to talk.

You'd just made an awful pun about the ‘bae’se, as you called it, being the instrument you’ve always wanted to learn, (causing Will to wince and Jonny to choke on his drink out of laughter) when Chris returned with your drink and a similar one for himself. Still blushing? No. That's your imagination. Why would Chris still be blushing over one stupid joke?

Guy gives him a mischievous grin and they bicker about his seat-stealing whilst Jonny gently taps your elbow and says quietly into your ear "You wanna know a fun fact about Chris?" You nod even though you're confused. "He can't hold his alcohol at all… Watch this." At that point, Jonny stands up and announces "Who's for shots?"

"Me!!!" You're shocked at how enthusiastic everyone is.

"Tequila please!" Guy calls merrily after Jonny and gives you a sly smile. You get the feeling that Chris's alcohol intolerance seis infamous throughout the group. Chris instantly takes Jonny's seat and you start talking animatedly as if you've known him for years.

* *

20 minutes later you're laughing hysterically at a debate between Chris and Will about orange peels.

"You've gotta dig your thumb into it, Will!! How else do you break it??" Chris shouts loudly over the table.

"No!! That mashes up the segment!! You've gotta use your nails!!!" Will retorted inarticulately. Chris is just about to make his counter argument when he gestures grandly with his drink and it splashes onto the Will and the table. But let's face it. Everyone's too far out of it to care.

"Shit, sorry!!" Chris giggles, and he and Will begin to laugh hysterically.

Suddenly, you see Guy get up from where he and Jonny were discussing something away from the table and walk elegantly over to you. "Wanna dance?" He grins. But looks over at the still hysterical Chris before extending his hand to you. You're too out of it to notice this odd gesture and take Guys hand with all too much enthusiasm.

Chapter 7 – L

Guy leads you to the empty dance floor and pulls you unexpectedly close. If you had been sober at that point you don't know how you would have reacted, but with liquid courage in your veins you wrapped your arms around his waist in return earning a chuckle from him. You were about to start drunkenly dancing to the shitty dubstep currently playing when you hear the music change. If you had looked around you would have seen Jonny, having a word with the DJ. But alas your attention was taken up with admiring Guys face and so you barely noticed when a slow acoustic song started to play. Guy's hands slipped onto your hips and he leads you in a slow sway. You giggled, both enjoying the feeling of being so close to such an attractive man and due to the amount of shots currently in your bloodstream.

* *

Guy is out for revenge and has formed a plan. No more will Chris be the one who always get the girls. He’ll feel the pain of rejection and the jealousy of replacement just like he’d made Guy feel. He’d noticed Chris looking at you – but he was resolute. He’d win this time. He’d noticed Jonny trying to fluster the girl and Chris at every opportunity- this could work in my favour, he thought. It was when Jonny suggested shots he fully realised his first chance. It was known among the whole band that Chris was an easy drunk, and an emotional one at that - making this the perfect prospect to get in his first strike against him. He lured Jonny away while the others were hysterically laughing at something or another and dropped some subtle hints about his plan - though pretending it was the sakes of further flustering the girl, Jonny seemed to agree and so the plan was set in motion.

Now Guy finds himself slow dancing with you and enjoying it more than he planned. He pushes away that thought and tries to sneak a glance at Chris. The singer is sat bolt upright in his seat, eyes locked onto the place where his hands and you meet, not a glimpse of a smile in his face. Guy smirks. Perfect. Deciding to take it a step further he leans forward and presses his forehead lightly against yours, humming slightly. You are so out of it at this point you just smile lopsidedly and close your eyes, swaying to the music. What Guy wasn't expecting was to then, very suddenly, find himself face to face with a furious looking Chris, who must have forced his way between the two of you. Oh shit.

* *

To say you weren't enjoying this new-found form of dancing would be to lie. You were definitely enjoying it. Your drunk mind, however felt a small nagging feeling - like someone was watching the back of your head, but you move onto other things when you feel Guy’s forehead rest upon yours. Oh, you think, I like this. You close your eyes and let the music carry you, feeling so far away and so very close at the same time. You are absorbed in this feeling until you feel your skin connection with the bassist be very suddenly removed and stagger backwards. You feel Will steady you, wrapping his arm under yours to try and hold you up.

"Lemmie get you somewhere out of here" he tells you, glancing toward where you were just dancing hurriedly. "This… might get ugly."

Guy blinks twice, rapidly. He hadn't been expecting Chris to react this aggressively. He's vaguely aware that Will is pulling Y/N out of the lounge before she can see anything get ugly..

His attention turns back to Chris and he swallows nervously when he sees the stormy face of the taller man glaring down at him, all too aware of his height disadvantage against him.

"What the fuck was that, Guy?" Guy raises his eyebrows realising that Chris is clearly very drunk and not particularly articulate. He decides to play innocent.

"What was... What, Chris?" He easily conceals his smirk (it was almost too easy to wind Chris up, but he'd had lots of practice) and paints on a visage of confusion.

"Oh you're a piece of--"

"Hey fellas, everything alright here?" Jonny comes in and puts a hand on both their shoulders in an attempt at keeping the peace.

The attempt fails.

Chris shrugs Jonny’s hand off aggressively. Jonny backs off.

"What're you playing at, Guy? Taking advantage like that!" Even in the dark of the room his eyes are on fire. Guy considers giving up the act but his judgement is impaired by alcohol.

"Taking advantage? I don't know what you're..."

"Oh fuck off. She doesn't like you guy!!"

That hit a nerve.

"Oh, because girls always like you and never me? Because you're the singer. Is that it? 'Mr Frontman'??" His voice is raised now. Chris acted like this too much recently and he'd had enough of the cocky bastard. "You know what? You're not the only member of this band, Chris!!"

"It's not my fault you're just the bassist, Guy." His eyes go dark "It's not my fault people just think I'm better than you" his words slurred. Deep down, Guy knows he doesn't mean them, but he's seeing red and there's nothing he can do to stop this train wreck.

"If that's how you feel then why even stay in this fucking band?"

"Guy, calm down. Yeah? We don't have to-" Johnny is cut off by Guy pointing a finger at Chris's chin and hissing.

"Well it doesn't matter. Cause behind all that fake charisma and your massive fucking ego," he takes a deep breath. "You're as miserable and wet as your shitty song lyrics."

Chris feels hurt somewhere deep inside him, too. But before he can catch it, the word

“Cunt" comes spilling out of his mouth in a spit; leaving Guy with a dark and irate look in his eyes. Chris sees the shorter man raise his hand but doesn't think he'll do it. Nonetheless he suddenly feels a stinging sensation in his cheek and is recoiling from the sharp slap. By the time he looks up Guy is gone and Jonny is just standing there watching him. The realisation of what had just occurred dawned upon him and it was an instantly sobering thought.

*Chris POV**

For a while Chris just stood still. Stood and contemplated the contents of his most recent conversation with his bassist. His alcohol muddled brain still tried to defend what Chris himself had said but even in this state he knows he fucked up. A part of him is still furious with Guy, so he does not run to apologise to him and instead stands there and stares at the two spots where Guys feet were last planted and softly rubs the stinging patch on his cheek which has coloured a brilliant burgundy. How the hell is this band going to last? He thinks.

*Jonny POV*

A sharp ringing sound cuts through the air and Jonny sees Chris suddenly snap out of his thoughtful stupor and walk towards the table they were previously sat at. A moment later he sees an unfamiliar phone in Chris's hand and an odd smirk on his face. Must be Y/Ns, he thought but was stumped by the smile of the singer, considering the very recent confrontation with Guy. These sorts of things are happening too often now he thinks sadly. The worst thing is Guy barely ever tells Chris how he feels. He looks over to the singer who is slightly haphazardly making his way towards the emergency exit door Will and Y/N had left from earlier, and he probably won't even remember it. He'll go on thinking Will is the only one with issues with how this band is being run... anything he learns tonight will be wasted when his ego returns tomorrow morning.

*Reader*

You have been sat outside with Will for a while, your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around yours. You feel weirdly safe like this, despite being sat on a grimy step outside a nightclub. Your mind briefly wonders to what your roommates will think when you are so late home but the thought makes you feel horribly sad for a reason you can't discern and so you gently open your eyes and try to focus on the street around you to keep your mind from such upsetting thoughts. It's then that you spot a shadowy figure approaching down the dark alley the exit door seemed to open onto.

"Will" you whisper hoarsely and you feel him turn to look at the man. As he passes under the one orange-tinted street light you see his face and instantly recognise it. Instead of forming coherent words you whimper and shift closer to Will, who gently prises you off and stands up to his full height.

"Can I help you?" The situation had obviously sobered the drummer almost entirely and there was no slur in his voice.

"Ahhhhhhh…" the man said slowly "and you'd be the drummer, wouldn't you? Shame, I was looking forward to giving your faggot friend a nice reminder of earlier; but I guess the whore's got another knight-in-fucking-shining-amour at her service." His laughs aggressively and then proY/Nds to spit in your general direction. You stand instantly, fight or flight kicking in, but as you do you see Will take a step closer to the other man.

"I'm going to give you one chance to leave." Will’s voice is calm and almost soft. The bouncer laughes again, almost choking on his own saliva, and counters Wills advance with one of his own.

Seconds later he is nursing a split lip from a punch that lands close to his jawline. He doesn’t fall, or run. However, he does begin to circle Will who begins to move in return. That's when the man makes a lunge for you and manages to hook his arm around your neck, almost cutting off your air.

"Shame the lanky one wasn't here to fight for his bitch" he wheezes and tightens the grip on your windpipe. Your vision begins to fade slightly and you claw desperately at his forearm. The door opens and Chris stumbles out clasping your mobile phone. His befuddled expression soon changes into one of terror.

"Speak of the fucking devil" the bouncer relishes.

You're breathing erratically. Your vision is fading, light pulsating in front of you and black and red spots are blocking you from focusing.

You feel your desperate struggles becoming feebler (though they weren't great to begin with) and your legs giving out from under you, though this time today for a much more unpleasant reason. The man violently tries to drag you towards the centre of the alley and you can only whimper in protest.

"Y/N!!" You hear Chris shout and start running over, but the brutal grip on your neck tightens which brings him to a halt a few metres away.

"Let her go." Will snarls. The man just laughs.

"This bitch, really!? I honestly can't believe you're trying to protect this piece of trash.”

Chris bristles and the man pulled you around to face him.

"I just got fired because of this stuck up slag!!" He spat the last word as if it offended him, "You've ruined my life in the space of a few hours." he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a thin, sharp knife and ever so gently rests it on your face, pricking a drop of blood. You gasp in pain.

"Well… now I can ruin yours.” He sizes up your face with his bloodshot green eyes “Such a shame if something were to happen to your pretty face, eh?” He raises the knife – ready,

“You want this slut, Chris Martin?"

Chris POV

He has Y/N. She's stopped struggling. Chris isn't listening to the mad man’s ramble any more. Just standing there, helpless. Trying to think of anything he can do.

He faintly hears the man say, "Come and get her, asshole," when he throws the object in his hands as hard as possible at the man’s face. His aim is a little off thanks to the alcohol, but he manages to catch him and get him down long enough for Will to advance forward and drive an elbow into his temple, though the frenzied assailant has enough time to begin a slash at Y/N. She drops to the ground heavily. Chris rushes to help her and stop the blood now oozing from the now considerable cut on her cheek.

Reader POV

You hit the ground hard and your head is reeling. You take a moment to catch your breath and look up. The security guy has brandished the knife on Will and is wildly slashing at him. Will seems calm and like he knows what he's doing, but you can see an underlying fear in his eyes. Chris is next to you calling your name but you don't know what to focus on.

Hearing Chris’ desperate pleas, Will looks over to you both, but the momentary distraction is enough for the guard to lunge at him with the blade, leaving a long – though shallow - laceration across his arm. His face contorts briefly in pain and seeing the blood flow from the wound you scream in fear.

Horror courses through you and you go limp. Chris moves in front of you to block the fight and pulls your head into his chest. You grasp his shirt in your fingers and cry into him, the horrible scene playing over and over in your head.

He quietly whispers that it'll be okay into your ear until it's all you can focus on and it eventually soothes you until you're a whimpering mess in his arms.

You don't notice that in the background, Will has pinned the guy to the wall and is punching him repeatedly.

You don't hear the crunch of his bones breaking because Chris says anything and everything to keep you from realising the savagery going on behind you both.

Anything to protect you.

By the time Guy and Jonny finally come rushing out of the exit and pull a raging Will off the man, you're exhausted and overwhelmed.

Chris carries you away, and as you drift between reality and your unconscious haze you catch a glimpse of Will’s bloody, mutilated knuckles as sirens sound in the distance; and the blood that coats them isn't all his own.

You fade in and out of consciousness on the journey to the hospital. Chris refuses to let go of you the whole way, simply cradling you in his arms.

Your head just won't stop hurting, and the pounding stinging on your cheek isn't particularly helping. Every time you wince in pain you Chris flinches and the look of guilty fear rises further in his eyes. If you had been closer to wakefulness you would have told him that you were OK, you would have lied and said the pain was fine. But the blow to your head had stopped any attempt you may have made to mask your pain; and now each wince, each moan, each sign of discomfort was like a painful blow to the tall man whose arms you currently reside in.

In the end, you make it to the hospital. The longer you wait the angrier Chris gets and Jonny sees his fists tightening until his knuckles were almost entirely white. You and Will are eventually directed in separate directions and you see the two remaining band members who aren't currently carrying you hesitate which to follow. Jonny looks at Chris, then at Guy and shorty after decides Chris, and the doctors trying to attend to you, need his help now more than Will does. He nods to Guy who decided to keep the drummer company and so the two go their separate ways down the sterile white corridor. A nurse gets you into a bed in a quiet, private room, informing you that a Doctor is on their way

This doesn't settle well with Chris who begins to angrily demand you are given painkillers immediately. Jonny had seen how difficult it was for Chris to let go of you at all and tried to calm to the irrational.

"Chris" he said, softly. "They know what they’re doing" This does seem to calm him slightly and he drops his icy stare from the unshaken nurse.

"Sir" she says briskly, looking briefly at her clipboard "Mr.... um, Martin? Your girlfriend’s going to be fine, and we will make sure she gets her painkillers ok?" He expression softens slightly at Chris's still fearful face. "She’s going to be fine." she says gently and then slips out of the room and down the hallway.

As the doctor comes in and begins to insert the minor stitches on your facial wound he has to leave and Jonny finds him pacing the hall instead. He lifts his head when he sees Jonny and he notices the dilated pupils signalling even this hadn't fully sobered his intoxicated friend.

"It's all my fault Jon" he says urgently yet softly,

"If I had kept a better eye on her in reception.... If I had made sure they took him away as soon as I reported him... If I hadn't been such a jealous twat and tried to put down Guy. Fuck it if I hadn't even turned up to play the show today." he laughs dryly. “She got hurt because of me.”

Jonny looks at him feeling his heart break a little at Chris' cutting words and brings the man in for a tentative hug.

Tonight, Jonny thought has been a bloody long night.

The next day comprised of a plethora of tests and medical exams to ensure you did not in fact have anything more serious than mild concussion. When you had woken that morning you didn’t remember much, so it was to your utter shock to open your eyes to Chris hovering anxiously by your bedside. A slightly less pleasant shock, however, was had when you turned to see your face in the mirror on your bedside table. Your left cheek was now adorned with a crescent shaped laceration; currently being held together by precise black stitches. Suddenly your memory rushed back to you. You and guy, dancing. Will, taking you outside the club to cool off. The man. Grabbing. Choking. Chris. A sharp pain. Then dark. You gasp, the sudden movement pulling at your delicate stitches, and Chris leans closer to you, looking almost as if he is fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face.

Well a small, sad voice whispers in your mind, that's the thing about train wrecks. People just can't look away. You want to hide your face in shame away from the handsome man, end his gawking at the spot soon to be a unfashionable facial scar, wipe out the look of pity and disgust you are convinced you see in his eyes. Instead, frozen in the moment, you duck your eyes downward; partially in sadness and partially to avoid those blue, blue eyes that seem to look deep into your soul. It's then that Chris loses his resolve and reaches out to lift your chin, exactly like the night you met. This time he's not smiling, and a part of you yearns more than anything to see his smile again. You can't help but look him in the eye now, and are surprised by what you see; instead of the teasing of the day you met, or even the disgust you thought you saw seconds ago, his eyes are filled with a mix of guilt and an odd emotion you could only liken to admiration.

"I know I can’t make this up to you." he articulates slowly and softly. "I can leave now... if you want. I just wanted to make sure you woke up OK." he pauses and takes your silence for an answer, slowly releasing your face and beginning to back out of the room. His face looked uncharacteristically unreadable.

"Don’t…you don’t have to go..." you whisper and Chris immediately rotates himself back to face you, a questioning look in his eyes.

"...it wasn't your fault Chris." you continue. You see him begin to open his mouth and so raise a finger to shush him "-lemmie finish... OK." you take a deep yet jittery breath in and try again.

"That maniac was the only person who did anything wrong Chris. There’s… no blame on you. In fact, it's... it's thanks to you that this" you angrily point at you newly acquired facial flaw and Chris winces slightly "isn't fatal or some shit..." Your burst of anger fades as quick as it appeared, and you begin to blush a furious red and find a very interesting point on the floor to stare at. Seconds later, you find yourself enveloped in Chris's arms and the emotions get too much for you, triggering a bout of soft sobbing into his very much already ruffled shirt, much to the amusement of Jonny who has just returned from getting a coffee.

From the rest of the day, Chris doesn't leave your side. You still spot an occasion when he stares you guiltily, but you tried to give him a reprimanding look. This usually does nothing but make the singer (and definitely Jonny if he was around) laugh. That, you thought, was still much better than him wallowing in your sadness on your behalf.

It was getting late now and you were lying in your hospital bed while Chris was catching you up on all the news; albeit by reading you the silliest headlines he could find. Your chest hurt from laughing at Chris's silly voices and your face from smiling but as you glance over at your resident clown for the day you see a weird look in his eyes. Deciding he was probably missing his friends, you tell him he should go and see Will. He hesitates to accept but you cheerfully bid him on and tell him that you'll manage to cope without him for a few minutes. This leaves you unexpectedly alone. Jonny has already gone, as the band had been forced to cancel a show while Will was in hospital, which required heavy amounts of admin work that he needed to deal with. You decide to take this opportunity to nap and so close your eyes and soon drift off into a world of dreams.

You are awoken by soft whispering but don't commit to opening your sleep soaked eyes yet.

"I think she's still asleep Chris." Is that Will you hear? You move slightly and begin to try to force open your eyes.

"Y/N…" you hear a gentle whisper close to your face and at the melody of Chris' voice you manage your task and see two indescribably blue orbs staring back at you.

"Sleeping beauty wakes" Guy says, and you feel a blush rise to your face that makes him chuckle. Chris suddenly withdraws his face and retreats to a standing position. At the sight of the entire band collected by your bedside, Will in his sling and all, you smile nervously.

A moment of strange silence follows and you see Jonny staring at Chris. Chris looks back eventually and Jonny inclines his head slightly toward you.

"Oh… yes!" Chris said hurriedly, then composed himself. "...we have an offer to make you"

Chris POV

I was expecting Y/N to get angry with me. I wasn't expecting the reason. Instead of the fury I'd imagined directed at me for my failure, she was pissed because I blamed myself. Her unexpected show of almost aggression staggered me and as she recovered from her flash of strong-willed, steely-eyed determinism I felt something shift inside my chest. In that moment, I couldn't control myself. With the memory of fire burning in her now downturned eyes and still with the confusion of her avid defence of me I wrapped my arms around her and tried to hug any pain I might have ever caused this girl out of her. She began to sob and I drew her in tighter. I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn't appropriate, I was taking advantage of her emotional drunkardness almost as much as Guy had with her biological intoxication. But I just couldn't let go.

I found out more about her as the day went on. Though we had met only recently, I felt oddly at ease talking to the girl. Once you'd got past the shy, flustered shell she was bright, witty and managed to keep a smile on my face for most of the day. It's when she winced in pain - despite trying her best to hide it - that I felt that guilty feeling rush back, but each time was confronted with her best impression of a frosty glare that made her look more scared than angry and was undeniably funny. Jonny was hanging around a lot, but once he decided that I wasn't at danger of beating up any medical staff he popped off to see Will. Will. I'd unintentionally forgotten about him, so distracted was I with Y/N. I wasn't sure I was ready to see him though. His injury had been as much my fault as Y/Ns had, possible more, and the thought of seeing my band mate hurt because of me, despite our recent disagreements, filled me with dread. There was also the small matter of Guy. I didn't remember much of the middle section of that night, but I did remember an argument and then getting slapped. So, it was with no real hesitation I decided to keep Y/N company instead, which turned out to be a very good decision. Although she still blushed if I looked her too long in the eye or if our fingers brushed together by accident, she was slowly becoming more comfortable. I tried to lure more smiles out of the girl by reading silly headlines using my best impressions, which seemed to work to great effect. I was sat there enjoying the laughter when it hit me. After today she was going to be released from hospital and go home. After today I would have no cause to see her again; a usually minor thought, yet this filled me with negative emotions I couldn't describe. She must have seen my expression and mistook it for an urge to visit my injured band mate as she almost forced me out the room to go see Will. Not that I didn't want to. I just hadn't even thought about it for the last few hours I'd been with her.

When I entered Will’s hospital room the discussion abruptly stopped and I felt as if I'd interrupted something. Nevertheless, I walked over to where Will is sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. Looking at his sling-covered arm, I felt such overwhelming guilt I panicked and brought him in for an unanticipated hug. He grumbled slightly at first and complained I was crushing him, but when I didn't give in he relaxed slightly and told me rather roughly to get over it.

"I'm not dead Chris. And before you profess apology, my tiny cut is not your fault either. Don't know why it's in a sling but" he shrugged and smiled "no permanent damage."

"As for that bouncer-" Jonny began a slight reprimand in his tone,

Will chuckled darkly and I flinched

"You didn't hear that thing speak Jon, he deserved more than what I gave him" Will almost spat the words and the memory of the strong smell of blood and Y/Ns tears filled my mind.

"Just do me a favour and don't talk about that in front of Y/N, OK" I said, rather harsher than I intended. Guy gives me a look and Jonny notices.

"-ah yes" Will asks, "how is she?" I briefly discuss her condition with the boys but feel a nagging feeling still.

"Well…" Will says "what's the plan then?" I look at him quizzically. *Plan?*

Jonny joins in.

"Well she fainted at our concert, then got stabbed when we tried to take her out for drinks. I think she deserves something good to happen."

Guy looked deep in thought, which made me very uncomfortable.

"I...agree" he said slowly after a great deal of consideration.

"Well there's no need to ask Chris his opinion on the matter" Jonny added and him and Will began to chuckle. My face reddened.

"I- uh-... wha-" I stumbled but the two boys raised their eyebrows at me and burst into a fresh set of laughter when I tried to speak further and words wouldn't form. Guy wasn't laughing, but a corner of his mouth was upturned in a smirk.

About half an hour later the guys were deep in discussion. Every time I chimed in I was ignored. This irked me to no end but a slight glare from Will had me retreating. So instead I sat, half listening and abstractly drafting lyrics that began to slip into my head.

When it started we had high hopes

now my backs on the line

my backs on the ropes

when it started we were alright

But night makes a fool of us in daylight

I chuckled at the last line, that for sure was true today

Said we were dying of frustration

Saying " lord lead me not into temptation"

But it's not easy when she turns you on

As soon as I wrote the lyric I felt bad. Who the hell was I writing about? Where had my mind gone. This had to stop. I shut the pad abruptly and tuned back in.

"-be a one time thing. " Will said.

What the hell were they talking about?

You look on in shock at what Chris just said.

"Um... sorry, can you try that again?" You ask slowly

Chris gives you and peculiar look and complies.

"We were wondering if, in return for all the-" he coughs slightly "horrible circumstances' you've endured, that maybe you'd like to come to our next show. In Paris. In two days." You face relaxes slightly as you process what the tall man in front of you just proposed.

"You want me..." you start slowly and see Chris instantly blush which confuses you. Jonny snorts at him but you ignore them both and continue.

"- to go to Paris" you continue swirling the words around in your mouth as you speak. You don't know what to feel.

Chris is still distracted by containing his blush and giving Jonny dirty looks, so Will steps forward to speak. As you see him you are reminded of exactly what the taller man did on your behalf and interrupt him before he opens his mouth.

"Oh god Will...I forgot to thank you." Your voice drips with shame and you almost run forward to embrace the drummer, carefully avoiding his hurt arm. He relaxes into your embrace and you squeeze him tighter, muttering apologies into the shirt your face is currently buried in. Will smells like sandalwood and hospitals, the latter being temporary you assume, and you don't want to let go of him. Eventually you hear a few throats being cleared and pull back suddenly, blushing heavily. Looking up at Will he seems uncharacteristically flustered and you want to sink into the floor a little bit. However, you are still overcome with gratitude and guilt toward the man and so try to stammer out something more substantial.

"I....just wanted... you know-..." you gather your courage and try again, " not to sound melodramatic, but you kinda saved me Will." You glance at his arm and feel unwelcome tears pool in your eyes.

"Oh god.. i-... you-... it's my fault, I'm... I'm so sorry Will" with the final word you feel your lips tremble and feel more and more like running out the door to avoid crying in front of the band. Four sets of eyes are trained on you. Three begin to move forward at the sign of your tears. You end up in Will's arms while Chris and Guy awkwardly step back.

"Don’t be silly." Will exasperates kindly as you sob into his now damp shirt.

"I'll tell you now, I'd do it all over again in a flash Y/N and that's the end of it." He sighs and pulls you slightly away to look into your eyes.

"Now let's talk about the much happier subject, eh?" You nod, shoulders still shaking slightly from the sobs. Will smiles at you, and it takes you aback so much that you can't help but smile back at him. This exchange doesn't seem to relax the tension in the room though. Jonny very suddenly decides that this isn't the best place for discussion and suggests you both check out and meet them at the Costa down the road. You are too busy gathering the little stuff you have to see the exchange of looks between the boys and much too oblivious to know what they meant.

By the time you and Will enter the Costa Guy and Chris are glaring madly at each other, whilst Jonny laughs.

"ROCK PAPER SCISSORS!!!" They both shout at the same time. Guy does rock and Chris does paper, leading him to cheer triumphantly before looking over to see you and Will walking over. He's so busy trying to make room on the sofa for you that he doesn't notice Guy steal the biscuit off his and Jonny's saucers until it's too late.

"Hey! I won!!" Chris whines.

"Gotta keep your eyes on the prize, Martin. You snooze you lose." Guy laughs smugly, stuffing them both into his mouth.

"I'm never offering up my biscuits again..." Jonny mutters and turns to you. "What can I get you Y/N?" He smiles. You've never been a huge coffee person so instead opt for a hot chocolate.

"So, you given our proposal any more thought?" Guy grins. You consider the prospect of going to Paris with these guys and almost feel faint again. Is this real?

"Well-er...." You're trying to control your heartbeat and feel Chris's eyes on you. You turn to look at him. He looks worried. It's then that you realise that you haven't finished your sentence. An awkward laugh escapes you. "Of course!!"

Maybe it's your imagination that Chris breathes a sigh of relief.

"Great!! Are you okay with flying? It won't be a long one." Guy already had his tablet out and is typing a email to his scheduler.

"Well I've never really flown befor--"

"I'll look after you." Chris offers without hesitation, earning a smile from Will and a chuckle from Jonny as he walks over with your hot chocolate.

"Always the knight in shining armour, Chris." He teases and Chris rolls his eyes.

Without thinking, you say "Well I think it's very sweet. Thank you, Chris." Giving him a meaningful, thankful smile. There's an awkward silence for a second whilst you realise what you said and join Chris in blushing furiously before Jonny starts on a story about a sheep or something.

"I don't go near the little fuckers!!" He shouts as the punchline.

But at that point you're too busy watching Chris, who is having a glaring match with Guy again. Before the situation can repeat itself, you take your biscuit, snap it in half, then grin at Guy as you pop half into your mouth and offer half to Chris, who shares your mischievous giggle whilst you both munch on the delicious cinnamon crackers.

After finishing your half of the sought-after coffee biscuit, you feel two chocolate brown eyes trained on you. You instinctively turn to face the bassist they belong to. Instead of speaking a word, he lifts his hand up to your face and, his fingers lightly resting in your chin gently brushes off a lingering crumb from your face,

"I think I got it", he murmurs. You think you can hear angry breathing emanating from your other side and see - as Guy slowly, almost reluctantly, withdraws his hand- his expression turn to a victorious smirk as he looks past you. Looking around yourself, you see Chris returning Guy's smug stare with an expression of barely restrained anger, though you notice his cheeks are still vividly splashed with red. Jonny then immediately bursts into peals of laughter at Chris and Will is staring rather sternly at Guy, disapproval almost flowing off the drummer.

"Gotta keep your eyes on the prize, Martin." Guy reiterates patronisingly, slowly tasting each word as it came, and you can practically feel the tension oozing from Chris as the bassist spoke "You snooze, you lose"

You are entirely confused about how Guy is acting and decide to ask a question about the upcoming trip instead of trying to figure it out.

"Um, so guys..?" All eyes are now on you - even Jonny ceases laughing. Oh great.

"Where shall I meet you for the flight? Like the airport...? Or something? I- I guess you can tell me closer to the time or whatever " Now it's the band's turn to look confused, it takes them a while but Jonny soon understands the area of miscommunication.

"Oh shit, yeah!" He says finally, "The concert is in two days, like Chris said." You nod, still not understanding "But we're flying out today." He turns to his watch briefly "in about 3 hours, I think..." he looks questioningly at you. "You still OK with coming?" You nod immediately but your thoughts are racing even faster than before.

Why are they flying out now? you think, but then reason that if not for this delay they would already have been there and played a show. What the hell am I going to wear for three days?

Chris seems to sense your concern.

"We can drop by your place to pick up some stuff, if that helps" he says nonchalantly. "no biggie." You smile in gratitude at him and earn yourself a heart-melting grin in return.

You pull yourself away from his gaze and turn to Guy.

"Oh- um… how much do I … owe you for the flight by the way?" He raises both eyebrows at you in almost disgust.

"Firstly, we’re not monsters. The flight is on us."

The blush that only just left returns, and you feel like an idiot for your question. Guy's tone then audibly softens "Secondly...well it's a rather 'personal' flight…"

Jonny grins and Chris wraps one arm gently around your shoulders in an effort to relax your body that seemed to be radiating discomfort.

"All will be explained Y/N… all will be explained"

The walk to Costa had been tense, despite Jonny's endless chattering. Guy kept shooting me gleeful glances and I couldn't for the life of me justify how angry I had felt when I saw Y/N hug Will. For a moment, I glanced back at Guy. Thinking back, he had also seemed riled by this, which confused me even further. You know why it is my brain whispered and I tried my best to block it out My mind had been straying far too much and I had not liked the direction that it had tended to go in.. I shook my head slightly as if to shake out every inappropriate thought lodged inside. This thinking was wrong, the girl was 10 years younger than me at least, and I refused to be some sort of dodgy rock-star salivating after a girl I'd only just met. Ah my mind said, so you are salivating after her? That was the last straw and I desperately attempted to engage Jon in conversation to avoid listening to my own thoughts.

"So" he said to me casually, "You think she'll say yes?" She better… The voice in my head reared its head again but I ignored it.

"Hmm- um... it's… anyone's guess." I replied trying to seem uninterested but I knew I wasn't fooling Jon. His smirk as we entered Costa confirmed this.

"Aw Chris, don't be so coy... You haven't exactly been subtle." He taunted me and I flushed a furious shade of red but tried to pass it off as anger as we chose and sat at a table.

But before I could speak Guy spoke up.

"Tired of being lonely, eh Chris?" He taunted a silent challenge and a reminder in his eyes. Feeling the reminder of my slip of words last time still ghosting on my cheek, I tried to ignore his comment.

"I'll have a skinny mocha ta Jon" I said as Jonny began to make moves to get coffee. As soon as he rose Guy pulled out his phone and promptly ignored me. Stuck with nothing to do, I decided to finish the lyrics I had started earlier.

If you only

If you only say yes

Whether you will's anybody's guess

God only, god knows

I'm trying my best

But I'm just so tired of this loneliness

I chuckled slightly at the usefulness of Guys comment in filling in my rhyme.

By the time the drinks returned I had pretty much got a whole song. As soon Jon put them on the table Guys hand swooped in to try and steal my biscuit.

"Hey!" I protested, "You said you didn't want a drink!"

Guy raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't say I didn't want the biscuit" he replied

Jonny didn't even look up.

"One of you can have mine." he muttered, trying to wrestle with the sugar sachet for his tea. I glanced at Guy.

Game on.

You suck in breath as you walk into the vast, bright expanse of Heathrow airport. You don't do much travelling, aside from the odd camping trip so this was a novelty.

You look up at the high, glass roof and get so engrossed you stumble back into Guy. "Watch yourself," he chuckles with a wink and you blush furiously.

You reach a desk with an intricate purple design and a single orchid in a glass vase. It is separated away from the rest of the check in stations and mostly hidden by a delicate screen. Clearly the staff are expecting the band as a sharply dressed man smiles – saying something to Will – and begins to lead you all through a locked door.

Chris comes up beside you. "Sorry you didn't have much time to grab your clothes. Maybe I can buy you something when we get to Paris? For the show?"

"Oh-n-no that's okay. I have some stuff." You didn’t want him to feel as if he had to go out of his way to do anything else for you, also you’re not sure if your heartrate would cope. But the idea is in your head now and you just hope nobody can hear the thrumming of your elevated pulse.

"Ah Y/N you can't say that…" Jonny chimes in. "Chris insists!" He leans close to your ear in a mock whisper "He's actually quite the fashionista. We've had him down as gay for at least 4 years." Chris goes red and elbows Jonny in the chest. You laugh at the banter between them and continue through the corridor.

After going through accelerated customs, you are driven out to the plane. You look up at it in awe but the boys aren’t even slightly phased.

Inside it has beige leather seats and cream walls and you gawk at it all like a tourist.

There's also a woman in flight uniform stood with four champagne glasses by the door. The band all reflexively take them but all eyes fall on you as they realise you are without a glass, naturally causing a furious blush to blossom on your cheeks.

Maybe it's your imagination but you’re sure you see Chris step on Guy's foot as he moves over to you and offers you his own.

"I don't know why I believed Guy was competent enough to let the flight attendants know we had an extra passenger!" He grins, rolling his eyes and calling for another glass.

Guy gives a tight grin to Chris but comes to stand on the other side of you and raises his glass. "To friends, old and new. And to you, Y/N." You don't know when it happened but your hand is in his and he brings it up to kiss your fingers, looking you dead in the eyes. "We are honoured to have made your acquaintance. And I for one, hope our friendship will continue for a very... long time." His eyes are dark as he clinks his glass against yours, Will's and then Jonny's, ignoring the fact that Chris is still without one. You almost inhale your drink in an effort to hide your shell-shocked face.

It's then that the flight attendant arrives with Chris's glass and an apologetic look. Chris strides over to you, gently clinks his full glass against your empty one and smiles before downing it in one. Will starts to ask the flight attendant about the flight plan, it seems to you as if the band are very familiar with the crew of their plane. This reminds you of a question and you direct it toward Chris,

"So, here's the real question Chris..." you begin and he raises his eyebrows curiously. "Do you get to keep the plane after the tour or is it just temporary?" Jonny laughs good-naturedly and you shoot him a bashful smile.

"Hey, it's a valid question!" you protest, giggling.

"Well I'm sure Chrissy-boy wishes he had his very own plane" Jonny says, smirking

"Maybe with a big picture of his face on the side to match his ego." Chris smiles sarcastically at his friend but you can see an embarrassed blush creep into his cheeks.

"But if you’re asking if our dear Chris here will be available to take you flying anytime soon…" It's your turn to blush as your face flash floods with red and Jonny's wry smile extends "I'm sure he'd find a way one way or another if you asked." The guitarist is prevented from teasing you further by a member of the cabin crew announcing it was almost time to take off. Everyone automatically begins to move toward very particular seats and you are left stand awkwardly in the centre of the plane. Great. But, before you had enough time to panic, Chris motions toward an empty seat next to him. There aren’t many seats on this plane, as is the case with private jets, but each of the four loungers in the main compartment positioned like corners of a square having two seatbelts although the guys all seem to take up almost all the room. Nevertheless, you manage to fit comfortably, if not tightly, next to Chris, although find yourself mystified by how the seatbelt works. Chris, seeing your struggle, chuckles then reaches over you to clip your seatbelt together. Your pulse is so elevated you are concerned that your heart won't last much longer and you curse that Jonny is sat opposite you and is giggling at your plight as Chris struggles slightly with the fastener and your face is almost buried into his neck.

"mm... got it!" Chris says victoriously and springs back to a sitting position. The plane starts to move then. You're shaking slightly and Jonny is trying his very hardest not to burst out laughing. Will looks over and noticing your expression, furrows his eyebrows slightly. Chris obviously sees this and also turns to look at you. Misunderstanding your shaking for fear of flight, which to be fair wasn't making it any better, he shifts even closer toward you and slips an arm around your shoulders. You glance questioningly at him in response and his smiles down at you, now pressed closely against his side; your head resting just where his arm joins his body and you feel surrounded by him entirely.

"I said I'd look after you" he says, and as the plane begins to take off he squeezes you closer and you silently thank the lord for having the fear of flying.

You sit on your hotel room bed, reflecting on the last days. Firstly the show in Paris had been forced to be delayed by three days due to a series of serious floods and power shortages to the stadium. Luckily the band had planned a week rest between this Paris show and the next planned set in Germany, so it didn't effect anything much but moving around break dates for the band and a couple of changes to the paperwork. You didn't mind at all, as it had just meant you got to spend more time with them all. Four days in and you were now much more relaxed, although Guy's ceaseless teasing still made you into an awkward, blushing wreck, which Guy and Jonny still found very amusing. You had seen Will giving Guy extremely disproving looks, and the drummer had tried to apologise to you on Guys behalf by letting you attempt to learn to play the drums with him, in the rare moments when he was free. Which had led to not much success and you couldn’t help but admire the patience and good nature of Will.

On the first evening you were sitting in your room and Chris had come in to find you deeply engrossed in a complicated origami swan – having completely lost track of time and your invitation to join them all in the sky bar. You had managed to convince the concierge desk to source you some proper paper earlier that day, before spending the rest sitting in on band rehearsal, and had now amassed a little collection of origami birds from the course of the day. He had laughed as first, when you had accidentally knocked over your handbag while trying to get up to greet him and a dozen or so colourful birds spilled out onto the beige carpet. You blushed and made a stupid joke about being "popular with the birds" which earned you an amused look from the singer in between bouts of laughter. You tried to maintain a serious face and informed him that origami was in fact not a laughable hobby and he raised his eyebrows at you, still standing next to your fallen birds. You plopped yourself back onto the comfy baby green sofa and he soon followed suit and sat gently next to you.

Chris had, in fact, been wondering around the hotel looking for you that evening, but he hadn't quite decided why. He was having a hard time controlling his thoughts toward you, and although his mind had told him to leave the moment it saw your face deep in concentration, with the rays of the sunset reflecting gently across your skin from the room’s floor to ceiling window, his body had protested and now he found himself sat excruciatingly close to you and watching your nimble fingers gracefully transform a price of paper. This time, instead of making another little bird you were working on something else. Chris' attention was distracted then as you bit your lip in concentration and he couldn't draw his eyes away. Just as he was thinking he might have to give up his resolve and close the gap between your faces right then and there, you brandished a paper aeroplane proudly in his face, laughing slightly.

"Um…Jonny said you wanted your very own plane." you explain. "I took the liberty..." Chris looked at you amusedly.

"Does that mean you're the captain?" He asked softly, forgetting his earlier decision to stop getting so close to you and loosely placing his arm on the back edge of the sofa, millimetres from your body.

You try to restrain your blush at his closeness but Chris noticed and enjoyed it more than he should have.

"Haha... you better hope not." you tell him mock seriousness plastered on your face.

"If I'm in charge it won't be plane sailing"

This achieved it's goal of breaking the somewhat intense tension that had managed to build and Chris seems stuck between looking disgusted at the quality of your pun and laughing at the straight face you are struggling to maintain.

After he managed to finish laughing you sat together for a while watching the rain fall onto the window in the moonlight in comfortable silence. Then suddenly Chris piped up.

"I'm sorry about us all being so... busy with boring stuff for the next few days." And he did sound genuinely sorry. "The other fells think I've organised all this practice and media as some sort of plan of keeping you away from them." You snorted slightly in response and looked disbelievingly at him.

"Hmm - yeah, I bet they do." you laughed sarcasm dripping from your words. Oh, you don't know the half of it, Chris thought to himself. "Plus, all the stuff I got to tag along with today was fun." You continued. If Chris was honest with himself, you were a huge distraction in the poorly set up rehearsal room; purely for the reason he felt the need to look at you all the time and your slightest movement, gentlest sigh, derailed his entire train of thought. After rehearsal that particular day he had been confronted by Will, who told him to snap out of whatever had got into him in not so many words. It was then he decided he was getting inappropriately invested in you, a girl 10 years his junior who he'd almost got killed by a knife-wielding maniac, and had told himself to back off. This resolve did not seem to be lasting.

“Teach me” He blurted.

“To make a paper plane?” You reply, cocking an eyebrow.

“To make birds.” He said. Your brow has furrowed slightly but you pulled out two bright sheets of paper and placed one in his hands, trying to ignore it when your fingers brushed together.

“Here, now copy what I do.”

You made the first few folds and watch as he messily copies your delicate work.

“Not…quite right.” You said delicately. “It’s more of a…ah” He’s making it worse. “Here. I’ll show you.” You leant over him and moved the hand that was holding one of the corners of the piece to the right place. You moved your hands around his to help with the next fold but soon Chris got the hang and you let him finish it himself. It wasn’t quite as perfect as the rest of them but Chris didn’t seem to mind and grinned at the yellow bird sitting in his lap. You laughed at the childish joy in his expression and at that moment the door to the room burst open and Guy’s head had stuck in.

“There you are!” He looked annoyed but softened as he turned to you. “We’re all up in the skybar if you still want to come.” He paused, faux-sighed and looked at Chris. “I guess you can come too.”

You snap back to the present day. While reminiscing, you realise you’ve done it again and not wanting to miss your evening source of entertainment you prise yourself off the comfy bed and out of the door, clicking it shut behind you. The corridor is clean and unremarkable. The walls are the colour of faded cotton and meet the swirling expanses of grey marble floor at a rich mahogany skirting. You follow the path you’ve taken these last 4 nights and let your feet carry you automatically toward the end of the corridor and then into the doors of a lift that almost blinds you with its degree of reflectiveness. There’s not a single fingerprint blemishing the polished surfaces, metal or glass. Not a smudge or a speck out of place. This still unsettles you. The sheer perfection of it all. Not just the hotel, but the situation you had found yourself in. You reach out to push one of the silver and pearl buttons, your eyes locating the right number and your fingers reaching it. You activate it and withdraw your hand. As the unwavering light pours down from the ceiling you can see the mark your fingerprint left and you feel as if you are entirely out of place. You have no more time for such anxious ruminations as the lift shoots upward and the doors slide open almost silently as you reach the top floor. You’re out of lift fast, the bright, white light still burnt into your retinas.

The lift opens almost directly into the sky bar. There is a short expanse of corridor in front of you, though it is wide and well connected into the main body, with the right wall consisting entirely of a large, tropical fish tank. A small podium stands at the point where the stretch of corridor and the main room connect and it is flanked, as always, by two intense looking men – complete with indoor shades and black suits. It’s almost comical, but their appearance gives you cause to remember a person you’d rather forget. How his breath felt against your neck. The look in his eyes as he places the blade across your face. Your fingers are absent-mindedly drawn toward the still-healing scar on your face, running over the bump on your skin.

You hear loud, familiar laughter ahead and continue walking. Nobody stops you as you cross the threshold into the bar. They’d seen you with the band and knew better than to ask questions. You are marvelled, yet again, by the view from the slightly outward sloping glass wall. This room is largely glass and split into two levels, though the upper stops just short of the gargantuan window. The whole place is pretty quiet tonight but you know that upstairs it is even quieter. And harder to get into. There is a spiral staircase made of shiny, black metal placed understatedly on the far-right side of the room, not too close to the bar to be a nuisance and not too close to the window to spoil the view. The wall next to it is the colour of a rich, red wine and has the unusual texture of velvet, contrasting with the black granite slabs that make up the floor. Your nerves rise as you realise you’ve never done this bit alone. At this point you’ve always had someone else with you, you’d always run into them on the way or down here in the lower bar. You must be really late today. There’s a man with a leather-bound notepad blocking the entrance to the staircase. His hair is impeccably styled, to the extent it seems plastic, and his charcoal black suit and royal purple tie are not even vaguely out of place. You clench your jaw to maintain your nerve as you approach him. He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“ ’ow may I help you?” Just like his suit, his voice is rich and perfectly inflected. He doesn’t stumble over his words or hesitate before he speaks, it just flows from him; naturally. You envied him that.

“I…I’m meeting my friends.” Could you call them friends? You didn’t know what else to say. ‘I’m meeting my adored musical idols’ wouldn’t have stood a good chance of getting you in.

“Name?” He says in the exact same tone, un-phased.

“Theirs or mine?” You ask and he raises his eyebrows at you – a slip in his perfect mask.

“Yours.”

Oh.

“um...Y/N.” You reply. “Y/N Reid.” A tense moment of silence follows as he flips the pages, his face returned to that expressionless mask.

“I’m going to have to ask which booking you are with, I can’t seem to find you.” He doesn’t even look up from the notebook but you nervously look around, feeling as if everyone sitting on the nearby bar stools is turning to look at you. Of course, they aren’t. They are too busy minding their own business to worry about what you are doing. You make a guess at who’s name it would be under.

“Should be under Champion, Will.” You try to muster authority but your voice doesn’t carry it off. The man is looking again and the inside of your cheek is raw from biting.

“Ah! Found you.” The smile is back and you relax a little bit as he moves aside.

You ascend the stairs. Only two of the secluded booths are in use as far as you could tell but you follow the sounds of Will and Guy’s voice to lead you. It’s darker up here. The ceiling lights are low, and the floor is carpeted rather than cold granite. The lamps set into the backs of the circular, high-backed booths give it a warmer feel and you are not surprised to find that the boys have chosen one of the few that open onto the glass wall and the fascinating view of the city below. As you circle the wall of the booth to get to the front you tune into the conversation.

“But how much? In kilos?” Guy sounds insistent.

“Why do you care so much?” Will’s laughing at him. Guy begins a reply but silences as you slip around the corner and smile at them both. “Y/N!” Will grins at you and scoots around the plush velvet circle so that you have room to sit which you hastily take advantage of. Guy is still staring at Will.

“Come on Will. Why won’t you tell me?” Will looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Because it doesn’t matter.” He replies, eyes raised to the ceiling then back at you. “Do you want anything Laure-“

“Stop avoiding the question!” The lilt of banter in Guy’s tone isn’t wavering but he’s raised his voice slightly. “I think you won’t tell me because you’re ashamed. Because its barely anything.” You’re confused but the expressions of the pair have melted away your lingering anxiety with laughter. Will looks exasperated and Guy’s eyes are widened in challenge.

“Hmph.” Will replies. “I’d definitely surprise you.” It’s at this moment you hear footsteps approaching and Jonny is pushing Guy along the bench so he can sit down, taking hold of a drink that must be his in one hand.

“What did I miss?” He asks as he sees Guy and Will still engaged in a one-sided stare-off. You smile at him in delighted bewilderment.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You and Jonny both laugh and look to see that Guy is struggling to keep a straight face. Your attention eventually shifts to the view as you still find it staggering, even after a fair few nights of gawking at it. Will is happy to have a change of subject.

“Enjoying staring at rain and a few flashing lights again?” He says with a wink. A joke comes to mind that you cannot resist.

“Nah, just checking for the police.”

“And …why would you be doing that?” Guy sounds confused but you spot a smirk on Jonny’s face. He can always tell when you’re setting one up.

“I took a shit on the street last time I was in Paris.” Will chokes a little on the drink he was attempting to sip. “The feds are after me…I’m an accused merde horreur.” A moment of silence while everyone is digesting it and you almost regret opening your mouth. Will is the first to laugh followed by Jonny, though their expressions are more of pain than of humour. Guy still looks confused, and this makes Jonny laugh even more. A little while after you all have recovered Chris pops his head up from behind the back of the booth. You wonder how he does it. You know he’s tall but he must be on the very tip of his toes. This thought makes you giggle which you are glad no one seems to notice as Chris makes them all jump by yelling.

“Drink, anyone!?” He looks at you and notices you are without. “tsk, I can’t even trust you to properly look after-” He interrupts himself. “Did you even offer her a drink?” He once again, doesn’t leave room for reply and his head promptly disappears with a faint shout of. “I’ll be right back.” Everyone looks bemused, except Guy who is frowning slightly, as if reminded of something. Chris soon does return and as he approaches you take in his full appearance. He’s wearing a blue jumper with an expanding pattern of white flowers flowing from his left-hand side. His trousers are black and straight-cut but with a certain fitted element that accentuates his body. His hair is slightly ruffled, almost like he just got up from a nap and you must make a conscious effort not to gawk at him like you had done the other mesmerising view. You all move up for him to sit down and he places one drink in front of you and one in front of himself, both flute-like glasses that are almost violently sparkling. He smiles at you.

“Tell me if you like it first.” You take a sip and the delicate, fresh taste takes you by surprise.

A loud “mmm!” escapes your lips without notice and the band laugh, causing you to blush and them to laugh more. Chris has kept his composure.

“That’s a Cuvée R. Lalou 2009 reserve.” He says and Jonny whistles. Chris looks disapprovingly at him. “It’s to make up for your rudeness at letting a lady go without a drink.” A look passes between him and Guy then that you don’t quite catch. You pretend to understand the name of the Champagne so as not to look a fool and nod appreciatively, taking another sip.

“Oh.” Will begins, nursing his drink. “You know we were talking earlier about the stadium?” You’re not sure who his question is aimed at but everyone nods. “Well I think the forecast is good enough that they’re expecting us to be able to play tomorrow.” You sip your champagne. Conflicting emotions arise inside you.

“Well, finally!” Jonny exclaims. Chris is frowning, however.

“Can we not talk work Will, for once.” He says and you see Will’s jaw tighten slightly at the comment, though he raises his hands apologetically.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He asks. Guy’s eyes glint from across the table.

“Let’s play truth or dare.” His suggestion is met with good-natured groans from the rest of the band as they chimed in.

“Guy we’re not 16”

“I’m not drunk enough for this…”

Will just sighs.

“Fine.” At this, Jonny rolls his eyes and nods.

“I guess if Will is in, I am.” Guy smirks and waves a hand at one of the passing wait-staff.

“One double of fireball whiskey.” He sends them away and turns back. Everyone looks confused but Guy sighs as if it was obvious. “For the forfeit, obviously.” He turns to Will. “Truth, or dare.” Will rolls his eyes again.

“Are we really…? Oh Fine. Truth.” You hear a soft

“Wimp” hidden in a faux cough from Jonny but Will doesn’t respond with anything more than a withering glare. Guys eyes light up.

“How much, in kilos, can you deadlift?” Will looks Guy dead in the eye, reaches his hand forward and downs the whiskey shot without even a flinch. Guy’s jaw clenches and Jonny and Chris laugh while you just smile, confused. Chris leans toward you to explain and you try to keep your mind off the feeling of his breath on your ear.

“Guy’s being going on about this for weeks. Will just won’t tell him, no matter what.” The conversation from earlier presents itself in your head and you join the laughter. Guy looks slightly embarrassed, red tinging his cheeks. He works to rectify this by loudly asking you,

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Oh no. You couldn’t say dare. You didn’t know what in the hell they’d have you do and the thought of it turns your stomach slightly. You guess there’s nothing much you have to hide, so truth couldn’t be that bad. Could it?

“Truth.” You answer and a corner of Guy’s mouth upturns. Oh no.

“Worst date you’ve ever been on.” You laugh sheepishly.

“About three months ago.” You stop but everyone looks expectant. Jonny grins.

“Go on, spill the deets.”

“Well… This guy from my Tuesday class asked me out for dinner. I got excited and dressed up but after an hour of walking, we ended up in subway.” You take a breath. “He hadn’t showered in about a month, insisted on paying but also insisted I had the salad – then ordered a double meat deluxe foot long for himself.” You shudder at the memory. “He kept dripping sauce all over his face and talking with his mouthful about how he was lucky he was a man because he didn’t have to watch his weight.” Everyone is grimacing but you haven’t finished. “Then, I had to lend him money to get the bus home because he’d spent it all on a footlong and he tried to grope me in the bus station.” You let it sink in. “There was no second date.” Guy raises his eyebrows.

“I assume your current boyfriend didn’t woo you with a footlong.” You laugh, half at the joke and half to cover the sadness of your next statement.

“I…um…don’t have one.” You attempt to draw attention away from this. “Who’s turn is it next?” Guy looks as if he’s about to say something else but Chris interrupts before he gets the chance.

“Dare!” Guy’s attention is back at this.

“Flip off the next photographer you see.”

“And get our tour cancelled? Don’t be stupid, Guy.” Guy sighs, irritated.

“Fine, Fine.” He takes a moment to think. “Your Ex, Jenifer.” Chris narrows his eyes. “Text her… text her ‘I love you more than the stars love the sky.’” He smirks at Jonny “Convincingly wet.” Chris purses his lips, but wanting to keep the atmosphere light-hearted, ignored the comment from the bassist and gets out his phone, sending the text.

“Done. Easy.” Next, it’s Jonny. Will scoffs as he asks for a truth. You get in before Guy does.

“Worst part about tour.” It’s not even a hard one for Jonny.

“I can’t have any pets because I’m never home!” He sighs, mournfully. “I’d love to adopt a kitten, but I’m always off gallivanting around so there’d be no one to look after it.” He frowns in consideration. “Though it might scratch my guitars. So maybe it’s for the best.” Chris pipes up.

“I got a text back!” Everyone cranes toward him to see what it is. You see it first and burst out laughing, while Chris blushes.

“What is it?” Jonny asks.

“She… she asked him if he was sending her draft song lyrics by accident again.” You laugh a bit more and Chris feels the need to defend himself.

“Sometimes its quicker than to open notepad, okay!” And when this doesn’t stop everyone smirking at him. “I’ve got big hands, it’s too easy to send a draft text!”

The game continues until quite late and Chris walks you back to your room, telling you he’ll see you tomorrow and smiling warmly before striding to his own room. Head resting on the silken sheet, you have no trouble getting to sleep.

You wake up the next day to a soft knock on your door. Light is streaming through the curtains of your room and the reality of where you are floods back to you in a happy daze.

You hear the knock again. Oh, yeah you think and blearily make your way over to open it, expecting Matt (‘Roadie 42’s’ revealed identity) to be standing there, ready to make a sarcastic remark about your habit of sleeping in and hurry you somewhere – as usual . Instead, on the other side is Chris, fully dressed already (you say already, it's at least 9:30, you can’t expect everyone to be a lazy as you). You suddenly feel self-conscious, having just got out of bed and wearing only pyjamas. You try to hide behind the door without making it too obvious - the blush on your face must be furious because Chris laughs warmly.

"Morning sleepy head." He gives you a heart melting grin. "Wondered if you wanted to do something interesting with the day today? Shopping maybe?" How could you refuse him?

"Sure! I'll be out in a minute?" Chris nods enthusiastically.

"Sure. I'll be...um… Here." He makes a noncommittal gesture to the hallway causing you to you giggle awkwardly.

"Okay." You smile and before the silence and his smile get too much you slam the door, running off to get changed.

You didn't manage to bring much with you in the way of clothes, you had barely anything clean when you had made a quick dash into your flat, so you pull on your nicest t-shirt & a pair of slightly upmarket jeans your mum had got you for your birthday last year. Luckily, they still fit and you smooth your hair slightly in the mirror, looking yourself up and down. Nothing special, but it was amicable enough to you.

Before you open the door you take a deep breath and will yourself to calm down. He’s just a normal guy, you try to tell yourself, desperately praying that you won’t do anything weird.

Half an hour later you're on Champs Élysées avenue. You can't take it all in. Your easy conversation with Chris is no different here and you walk slowly down the street, basking in the sunshine, chatting about all sort of things; from sports to long winded anecdotes. Suddenly, Chris stops outside a department store you recognise as LE66 Paris, you’ve heard of people talking about it before. You look over at Chris, who is staring into the window. Slowly he turns and grins at you,

"Have you got anything to wear tonight?" He asks. You don't want to admit that you are wearing what you were going to wear tonight.

"Erm... Yeah..." The look on Chris's face says you're not fooling him. He looks back to the shop window to a short sleeved, sophisticated black dress. He points at it even though he knows you can see which one he means.

"I think you'd look great in that." Without a second’s hesitation Chris grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers and swiftly leads you inside. You try to contain your blush, thinking you must look like a deer stuck in headlights as a shop assistant saunters over, euro signs in her eyes.

"'Ow can I 'elp you sir? madame?" She smiles sweetly, you can see she's good at what she does. Chris points to the dress in the window,

"Y/N here is very keen to try on that dress." His tone is shifted, its almost as if he’s issuing a command as much as responding to a polite question – but you pay little heed to it with his hand still clasping yours. When the woman sees the dress in question she plasters on the smile ten times thicker.

"Of course, sir. This way, Madame." She gestures to the changing room and you both follow. Once the assistant has retrieved the dress in your size you close the curtain. Taking it in your hands. You are still a bit bewildered that Chris took your hand but you hastily reassure yourself that it meant nothing, if only to calm your pulse than anything else. You hurriedly pull off your clothes, not wanting to keep him waiting. When you're dressed, you glance quickly in the mirror and can’t make up your mind over it. You step outside the dressing room, feeling suddenly horribly self-conscious and staring at the floor. You're met with silence and start to wonder if Chris is even there. You hesitantly look up to see him leaning against the opposite wall. His shocking blue eyes are looking deeply into yours and you blush. You can't read his stoic expression. He doesn't like it.

"I don't think it suits--" before you can finish your sentence he's taken two strides towards you and your face has been taken gently into his hands. You can't see anything but his eyes and you get that sensation of drowning in them all over again.

He closes his eyes and puts his forehead against yours. Breathing slowly and deeply.

"I… think... It does..." He says so quietly you barely hear him. You stand there waiting for him to open his eyes, release you, anything.

"Ahem."

Chris suddenly pulls away and you see the assistant looking disapprovingly at you both. "Iz everything okay?" There's a silence where Chris decides what to do. Slowly, he clears his throat.

"We'll take the dress."

You still haven’t recovered, let alone moved a single muscle. Chris is staring and you can't do anything but stand there for a moment, eyes wide, despite the presence of the disgruntled employee. What the hell just happened?

You quickly change then, any excuse to take a moment away from both of their stares. When you emerge, Chris places his hand on your back to direct you in the path of the woman who is trying, desperately to move you closer toward the one of the checkout stalls. You’re still not entirely sure what’s going on, you think you left some of your cognitive function in that dressing room.

When you arrive, Chris gets out his wallet to pay. You open your mouth to protest but your thoughts are immediately stopped in their tracks as your mind instead notices Chris' mischievous eyes as he turns and winks at you, and you quite suddenly lose the ability to speak. He soon presses a fancy black bag into your hands as he guides you back toward the enterance. You desperately try to say something but all your mind is occupied with Chris, it’s almost insufferable. He looks down at you and you blink fast to try and look less weird.

Realising what he just had done and how much money he had spent, you frown and he notices, mock-offended.

"Not even a thank you?" he’s teasing you and you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, trying and failing to form a good comeback. The memory of his forehead against yours and his slow laboured breathing surfaces in your head and you have an idea. You gently raise yourself onto your tip toes, looking him dead in the eyes, so close that you can hear his breathing again. He looks at you curiously and your mind screams, freaking out, but you've dug this far down, in for a penny in for a pound; so you lean forward and gently place a soft kiss on each of the singer's cheeks.

"I owe you a present now, and I'm calling ice cream" You declare as you fall back down onto the flats of your feet. Chris is smiling as you drag him by the hand out of the shop, shocked at your own confidence.

Soon you find yourself at the front of the queue for a van, and you automatically order your favourite - mint chocolate chip. You glance at Chris and instead of looking at the menu his eyes are transfixed on your face. Seeing you looking back at him his gaze snaps back into an embarrassed smile and he tells the man working in the ice cream van something you don’t understand. You did speak basic French from old holidays and your academic career, but Chris seemed to speak the language effortlessly. The man in the van holds out the two identical cones to you and you take them, giving one immediately to Chris. You get out your purse to pay, not even considering that you didn't have any Euros, but the man shakes his head furiously

" Non Non, Gratuit, pour Chris Martin ou coldplay et sa belle petite amie" he insists smiling at the two of you and waving you away. You don't understand the man but get the general gist. Chris blushes and smiles at him, saying something else that you don't understand which makes the man give you a knowing smile before replying to Chris. Chris then leads you away, colour still on his cheeks. You consider asking him what the man said but decided against it. Instead you ask Chris where you are going.

"You'll see" he says secretively and smiles at you.

A few minutes later you arrive at a small park, nestled in between leafy sidewalks and tall beautiful buildings with an entrance almost covered entirely by the low hanging branches of the willow trees. Your eyes widen as you walk inside to discover a small pond surrounded by freshly cut grass and tall reeds. Chris looks down at you, he’s smiling but he looks hesitant, questioning, and you smile right back at him. Suddenly, you feel something dripping onto your hand and yelp slightly before seeing your ice cream had begun to melt. Chris chuckles at your shock and suggests you find somewhere to sit so you can manage to eat them before the sun gets the better of them. You giggle in agreement, slightly embarrassed over the noise that had managed to escape from your mouth. I'm making a real fool of myself, you think, just after I thought it was going well. You and Chris finally settle in a spot on a raised patch of bank, legs dangling close to the water, and you go to town on your ice cream as soon as you've put the shopping bag safely down. You almost forget the handsome singer sat mere centimetres away as you engross yourself in attempting to control the quickly melting dessert. It's only when you hear a low chuckle that you turn your head and immediately blush a scarlet red as you identify your faux pas. You hate to imagine how it looked, you desperately trying to stop ice cream from dripping onto your hand. Chris has an odd expression on his face and you feel another rush of embarrassment. You desperately try to wipe the ice cream off your face thinking how stupid you must seem, how childish. Unexpectedly, Chris reaches a hand toward your face, he’s moving his head too – almost as if he’s going to kiss you. You’re so taken aback that this action causes you to begin to slip sideways off the bank, having been dangerously close to the edge anyway. Luckily for you however, Chris manages to grab you and hold you up with his surprisingly strong arms. However, in order to rescue you from a damp fate you end up pretty much sat sideways across his lap, his arms still wrapped around your torso.

“I… don’t think a lake dip is a very efficient way to get ice cream off your face” he laughs softly. Then, noticing your wide eyes and red face he gently moves you to be sat next to him – though his arm is resting just behind his back and you are still dizzyingly close.

“You’d be surprised.” You reply, trying to ignore his proximity and the lingering warmth of his arms. “Well, at least I get to finish my ice cream in dry clothes.” He looks at you, seemingly restraining a smile and you look across the lake for a second, the silence hanging heavy. “I dropped my ice-cream in the lake, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

“You did too, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

The rest of the morning passes fast, lunch even faster and as hard as you tried to make the day last, you were soon back at the hotel. You definitely feel as if a dynamic has shifted between you two, but its beyond your explanation. Chris leads you into the hotel, your arm in his and as you reach the elevator he turns and cups the left side of you face with one of his hands. You lean into his touch instinctively, despite its unfamiliarity.

"I'm gonna go and catch up with the guys. You should have a nap before the show tonight" when he speaks his voice is soft. You nod compliantly - you are after all, exhausted. "I'll come & get you about an hour before we’re leaving. You can get ready and we can all head down." You just nod again, dumbly.

He presses the button on the elevator for you and it opens. Before he turns away he kisses you on the nose and you don’t have enough brainpower to react as he pushes you toward the lift, but he's not looking at you when the doors close.

Chris POV

Chris can't help himself. As Y/N nods blearily (clearly exhausted) he leans down to kiss her on the nose, she's just too cute not to. He’s surprised at himself but can’t doubt that he’s wanted to do more than that for most of the day. It's then that he hears a soft, yet assertive 'ahem' from behind him.He turns to see Will, leaning on a pillar with his arms folded. His expression is unreadable but his nostrils are flared; Chris knows what that means. He doesn't look around to see the doors close.

Will's glare is obviously disapproving and Chris feels like a school boy caught kissing by the bike sheds by his headmaster. Well. Not too far off an analogy.

"Hey Will." He smiles, hand moving to the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Chris." His expression isn't changing as he acknowledges the greeting. There's an awkward silence where Will keeps looking at Chris. Chris can feel his face heat up. He couldn't really defend himself. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Chris knows playing dumb is not a good idea, but he can't help it.

"Don't play dumb, Chris." Oh shit.

"Erm..."

"Follow me." Will leads him out of the reception area and around the corner into an empty conference room.

"What're you doing?" Chris can't tell how close Will is to snapping and it's scaring the crap out of him.

"Well I... Er..."

"Don’t give me this shit Chris. What is going on?"

Here we go.

Chris instinctively brings his hands up to try and calm the situation but to no real avail. Expressions of anger were exceptionally rare from Will and it leaves him slightly bewildered

"Woah Will, just tell me what's wrong" he says defensively, confused at the intensity of his anger.

"You want a list Chris?" He asks sharply, leaving no gap for Chris to respond. "Fine, I'll give you a list. Just today, you have not turned up for sound check and left us waiting for you for hours, completely ignored all the messages we've been sending you all day-"

Chris makes the mistake of interrupting,

"We? Who's we?" He says, accusations rife in his tone. Wills voice barely changes but his face gives away how far over the line Chris has just stepped.

"Well, I guess you wouldn't know, would you Chris?

Sometimes I think you forget you're in a band with three other people and not just some sort of hot-shot tabloid star free to do whatever he wants." Chris' eyes darken with anger but Will isn't finished yet.

"Oh, but wait that’s not it for today’s list Chris. There's more." Will looks Chris up and down."What do you think you’re doing? I thought you - I thought we - were better than this. All of us." Will gives Chris a moment to speak but Chris just looks angry and confused so the drummer decides to make it crystal clear.

"If you think I'm going to let you toy with that poor girl any longer, you've got another think coming." At this comment, Will sees the emotion in Chris' eyes turn to fury and the singer advances toward him.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Will isn't discouraged and doesn't attempt to calm the situation in the slightest.

"I just about put up with Guy because he didn't cross the line enough for me to speak up. But you? I saw the way she looked at you Chris. What's the plan? Eh? Lure her into your bed and then conveniently ship her home when you’re done? It's disgusting. You're being disgusting. I've put up with you treating your own band as disposable people that you can come and go from as you please for this whole tour, but Y/N? There's no way in hell she'd get over you pissing off after you're tired with her." Will glares Chris down. "I can't stop you but I'm not going to just watch this happen. Not to her." He had become very fond of you in the time you had spent together and the thought of Chris taking advantage of your kind yet undeniably naïve personality made his blood boil. Chris, on the other hand, only sees a member of his band, trying to guilt him away from you (which he thought he was doing a good enough job of himself) and by precedent, trying to control him. He doesn't take it well.

"You really have that low expectations of me? After all these years!? You really think that I-.... that Y/N... Nothings fucking happened Will." He takes a deep breath, trying to keep it together, and this moment of silence allows for Will to speak again, puuling a photo from his pocket.

“I got a phone call about an hour ago. You got snapped by some hot-shot Parisian press hack. Nothing too compromising but…" Chris' intake of breath is sharp as he sees the shot of you, sat across his lap with his arms wrapped around you and he curses under his breath.

"Yeah. Problematic." Will continues. He pauses, as if letting it sink in before continuing. "Luckily for you, we had some contacts, turned in some favours and managed to block the story they wanted to run. This time." The sag of relief in Chris' shoulders is visible. "I hope you realise that if a story like that got out, you'd ruin Lauren's life. With the media attention you've been getting recently, she'd most probably be hounded the moment she touched back on English soil. People would assume things, Chris and that could earn her and us, a reputation no one could live down." He sounds calmer now but Chris knows he’s not. “Make sure nothing else happens. Make sure she goes home tomorrow.” With that, he departs, leaving Chris drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions.

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