If We Weren't Such Good Friends I Think That I'd Hate You

Faris woke up earlier than normal. The morning darkness crept in through his curtains and shone on the mess of things on his floor. He grunted to himself, hauling his body out of his warm bed and out into the coldness of his bedroom.

Currently, Faris lived in a flat in London with his band mate, Tom. It made it easier since they both didn’t need much space and it was cheaper with the two of them living together. Faris also knew that Tom wouldn’t constantly be in his space or aggravating him with questions or conversation, unlike the rest of his band mates.

Faris knew that Tom was probably already awake, sitting out in the living room with a cup of tea and reading the morning paper. Tom was quite the calm and quiet person, but he was an observer. He didn’t necessarily talk about things but you could tell it was quite obvious and apparent that he knew about them. This didn’t worry Faris because Faris was an honest and open person, it was just the words spoken aloud that he despised.

Faris walked out into the living room, noticing Tom sitting with his legs crossed on the couch. Sure enough, Tom was drinking tea and reading the paper. Tom looked up, gave Faris a quick nod and went back to reading.

“No recording today.” said Tom casually, his eyes not leaving the paper.

“What?” Faris’ voice was sharp.

“Apparently Joe’s a bit ill, so we’ve decided to take a bit of a break.” replied Tom, shaking his head. “I suppose he partied a bit too hard last night?”

“Didn’t they all?” asked Faris, crossing his arms and feeling a tinge of anger.

Faris hated to be put behind schedule, especially when it was due to something that could have been very unavoidable.

“I think it’ll be alright to have a few days rest. It’ll get the partying out of their systems and it can leave you with enough time to cool down.” suggested Tom, shrugging his shoulders.

“Cool down?” snorted Faris, shaking his head at Tom. “You make it sound like I’m some sort of unstable idiot, Tom.”

“You know what I mean.” replied Tom. “We’re just getting all a little wound up from all of this consistent work.”

“I’m not wound up.” said Faris defensively. “This is just frustrating that we’re putting the record off even further. How many times have we moved the date now?”

“You know that wasn’t our fault the first couple of times.”

“Whatever.” muttered Faris, leaving the living room to go back into his bedroom.

Faris hauled on a new pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then left the flat completely. He walked down the familiar streets near his flat. They were covered in dirty snow, the salt and sand from the road causing it to become a brown colour. Faris didn’t have the slightest clue as to where he was going.

Most people assumed it’d be difficult for Faris to just walk freely on the streets, mainly because of the fame. But honestly, Faris wasn’t usually bombarded by fans. Despite the obvious reasons for being able to pick him out of a crowd, Faris usually wasn’t the one to be bothered. Poor Joshua always got the brunt of it all. Sometimes people even grabbed at his hair or stole pins from his jacket. Faris never really understood the whole ‘deal’ with fame, it all seemed like a bit of a farce to him.

“Faris!”

Faris gazed over near the corner of a building that looked faded, worn and secluded. Of course, there was Joseph. Faris tried his best to not scoff, grimace or glare at him. Joseph would’ve known already though that Faris was angered about the delayed recording schedule.

“Hello Joseph.” Faris always called Joe ‘Joseph’ when he was angry with him.

“What’re you doing out so early?” asked Joseph, looking somewhat perky for someone who was supposedly ill.

“I’m always up early.” said Faris sharply. “Why aren’t you sick?”

“Oh, sorry… knew you’d bring that up, mate.” sighed Joe, ruffling up his hair with his right hand. “I felt a bit down this morning, but then I just came right up again after a lovely cup of tea. Tom suggested it, actually, then I even felt peckish! Had a right well bowl of-”

“Shut up, Joe.” mumbled Faris deeply. “You know we’re behind schedule.”

Joe frowned. “I know, but I didn’t think it’d be so bad to miss one little day.”

“Well, this day’s gone now, so we might as well stop fretting about it.”

Joe smiled, his perky self overcoming the guilt that Faris had put on him. They had left the building that Joe had come out of now and they both continued to walk down the street. Joe was quite a bit shorter than Faris, and it seemed that Joe had to walk an extra two steps to keep up with Faris’ stride.

“Where are you going?” asked Joe cheerfully, placing a cigarette into his mouth.

“I’m not sure.” replied Faris dully.

“That’s great, ‘cause I’m going to meet some friends at this pub a few minutes away from here.” said Joe. “You should join me.”

“That’s alright, I’m quite fine with just walking around here by myself.” assured Faris, rolling his eyes.

Of course, only Joe would want to hang around a pub the day after a massive drunk. The boy was simply a party machine, it wasn’t possible for him to stop. It was both a pro and a con with Joe.

“You sure?” asked Joe, frowning at Faris. “You’ve been all cooped up in the recording studio for the last month, and I know you don’t enjoy night clubs. Last night was probably an absolute bore for you.”

“Something tells me I won’t be a fan of day clubs either.” responded Faris automatically.

Joe stopped talking and continued to walk with Faris, the following silence being awkward and painfully quiet despite the noises from the street. Joe began to slow down as they neared a pub, and for some reason, Faris slowed down with him.

Joe stopped, his hand going to the door.

“Come on, Faris.” said Joe. “Have some fun.”

“What is it with you people and me having fun?” muttered Faris, following behind Joe as he happily walked into the pub.

For it only being approximately dinner time, there was quite a large amount of people in the pub. Faris wasn’t surprised, it was basically all of Joe’s partying crowd. There were many ‘hey Joe’s’ and ‘how’re you feeling’s and ‘what’s the plan for tonight’s. After they noticed Faris behind him there were a few ‘hello’s and ‘hey’s.

“Faris.”

Faris quickly turned around, looking behind him.

“Fuck, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Faris looked down at Kyle. His hair was in his eyes again, and Faris was almost positive he was still wearing the same jeans. He stood sipping on a drink, while his other hand lay in his pocket.

“Drinking again?” asked Faris, raising his eyebrows.

“Nothing gets the hangover away like a few more drinks.” said Kyle quickly, giving Faris a quick nod.

“Right, right.” replied Faris, looking around the pub.

Faris did not understand what the fascination with being here. It wasn’t even a good pub. It was small, surprisingly crowded and it smelled awful. Faris gave Joe a quick glare and then turned back to Kyle.

“I’ve got to be somewhere… so I guess I’ll see you later.” said Faris.

“Oh, alright.” said Kyle.

“Later, then.”

“You know, Faris, thanks for last night.” said Kyle quietly, moving his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten home.”

“Don’t mention it.” Faris really meant that, it would’ve been a lot less awkward if Kyle didn’t have to mention it. Ever again.

“No, I feel kind of bad.” replied Kyle, frowning at Faris. “Maybe sometime we can go out for a drink or something, let me pay you back for having to carry me up so many stairs?”

Faris swallowed dryly, raising his eyebrows at Kyle.

“I’ll just get your number from Joe later, you go do whatever you’ve got to do.”

Faris gave Joe another glare, then turned back to Kyle. “Right…”

Faris slammed the bar door when he left, the cold from the outside being slightly refreshing compared to the stingy bar air. He had no idea why anyone in their right mind would want to go drinking with Kyle Falconer.

“Do a good deed, this is where it gets you…” muttered Faris.