Unintended

"Should we go again?" Matt asked from inside the recording booth, looking through the large glass window at the sound engineer by my side.

"Yeah, give it another go. I'll adjust the levels a bit," the engineer replied.

Matt glanced at me, adjusting the strap of his glittery red guitar, with that charming smile on his face. He looked rather adorable in there with the large, black headphones on his head dressed casually in a ratty, white t-shirt and old, worn jeans. He actually looked like a musician now than the previous times I had met him. I couldn't help but smile back at him, thinking about the stupid butterflies that began fluttering in my stomach once again.

Today, I was in a studio in Soho, listening to Muse record their fifth studio album. A week before, Matt had invited me to come in and listen to the new record, which I gladly agreed to since I was anxious to hear what he had been working on. Nearly a week later, I received a knock on the door and Matt turned up, inviting me to tag along with him the next day to hear the new album so now, here I was sitting in a large, swiveling chair as Matt, Chris, and Dom were playing their instruments in the other room. According to Dom, they were recording the title track of the album, 'The Resistance', which somewhat paralleled the Orwell novel, Nineteen Eighty-Four. From what I've heard so far, I really liked it.

Carolina continually called me, since it had been about two weeks since the closing of my play. Her messages were always the same, wanting me to call her back for a discussion about my next script. I knew she wasn't used to having nothing to do while I took vacation but I thought she would actually spend some time with her family rather than call my phone at all hours of every day.

The truth was that I wasn't sure what project I wanted next. I had read through a few scripts and hadn't found anything that struck a chord with me yet. Most of the scripts I had received for upcoming plays weren't really anything I could relate to. I wanted a part that would inspire me, move me, make me relate the way Gwendolen Fairfax did. I just needed a role that would speak to me.

Dom counted off with his drumsticks as they began playing once again. Matt told me that there was a synthesizer part he'd work on later that would play in the beginning and end of the song. So far, I was really enjoying my time in the studio with them. Though the engineer was absorbed by the music most of the time, he still talked to me in between adjusting the sound levels and messing with playbacks. The music they were working on was amazing and never grew old, even if the only thing I kept hearing was the same instrumental over and over again.

I watched each of the band members, noticing different things about everyone that I wouldn't have seen otherwise. Dom radiated enthusiasm behind his drum kit, happily beating the tops of his drums with that goofy grin of his on his boyishly handsome face. Thought Dom reminded me a lot of an overgrown child, there was seriousness about him as he drummed, as if he was concentrating all his might on his precision and sound. It was definitely a change from the man I met last week who insisted he was an emperor of a children's playground.

Chris was sitting on a chair near the black piano, legs planted firmly on the ground as his fingers plucked the strings of his large, black bass guitar. He's bob his head to the beat, leaning back against the piano as if he were lounging on the couch. He looked almost as if he wasn't doing anything at all, as if all his effort had yet to manifest. Though Chris appeared to be contributing nothing, the loud, heavy bass line matched up perfectly with Dom's drumming. He was flawless in his performance, despite his laid back appearance.

Finally, there was Matt, who was standing closest to the control booth with his dorky headphones and sparkly red guitar. He looked quite at ease, standing before the microphones and waiting for his cue to play. When he did play, his fingers glided gracefully along the fret board of his guitar, making it look easier than it actually was to play guitar. I was impressed by how much fun he continued to have playing the same bits and pieces of music over and over again, always wearing a smile on his face. The one thing that reflected his seriousness in the work was his eyes, which remained focused on his note changes.

They finished their playing not too long after that, leaving their instruments in the other room as the engineer began messing with switches and controls on the mixing board. I just leaned back in my chair as the boys walked back in. Chris immediately plopped down on the couch, sighing loudly in satisfaction. Dom stood in between me and the engineer, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him. Matt took his seat on the couch beside Chris, slouching down against the back cushions.

"So, how was it?" Chris asked me, propping his legs up on Matt's lap.

"So far, I really like it. I can't wait to hear it all put together," I replied, spinning around in my chair to face him.

"Hopefully it'll all be done by the time you all return from lunch. The only thing we need now is the synth parts but we're gonna record the symphony parts of 'Eurasia' this afternoon," the engineer explained.

"Well Matt can work on the synth parts later," Dom said dismissively. "All I care about is my hungry tummy," he added, patting his stomach.

"What should we eat for lunch?" Matt asked, looking around at everyone.

"Pasta!" Dom cheered.

"You always want pasta. You know that if you eat too much pasta, you'll get too fat to fit into your skinny green trousers," Chris pointed out. "And then you'll cry about that on top of everything else!"

"Dom can consume enough food to feed an entire small country and still not gain a pound. He's a freak of nature," Matt laughed.

"Oi! I'm not a freak. I just have a very good metabolism," Dom said in his defense, crossing his arms over his chest the way a young child would. "So there!" he added, sticking his tongue out at his band mates while I shook my head at the childish behavior amongst the group of grown men.

"Well, we could go to Salvatori's for some pasta. I know its close by and serve the best Italian dishes in Soho. The manager is a friend of mine and would probably set us up with a table if I called," I suggested.

"Oh my God, really? I've always wanted to eat there but couldn't because they were always booked with reservations," Dom said with excitement. "Seriously, you are my new best mate! Pasta, here I come!"

We all shared a laugh at Dom's enthusiasm before standing from our seats. We bid our farewells to the engineer, who was too engrossed with listening to playback to notice we were talking to him as Dom ran out of the room, babbling incessantly about the pasta dish he wanted. I placed a quick call to the restaurant, who assured me that they would hold a table for us, before catching up with the guys. Matt fell into step with me as Chris tried to get a handle on the hyperactive drummer who was running circles around us as we walked.

"Aren't you dizzy?" I asked Dom seriously.

"I will be when I stop but I don't intend to stop!" he laughed.

"How do you plan to eat your pasta if you're running around us the entire time?" Matt asked.

Dom suddenly stopped, wobbling to and fro, crashing into the walls of the studio hallway and then into me, sending me to the ground. I groaned a little when Dom landed on top of me, complaining about the dizziness and holding his head. Matt immediately offered me his hand to help me up, which I took while laughing at Dom's silliness. Chris helped the drummer off me while Matt pulled me from the floor. I dusted myself off, adjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder as Dom held his head between the palms of his hands, balancing himself out.

"See Dom? You're a walking accident," Matt told him.

"Technically he was bumping into things like a pinball machine, not really walking," I pointed out.

"I'm sorry Gabriella. I didn't mean to fall on top of you but I must say, it's not a bad place to be," he smirked suggestively.

"Oi!" Matt said, smacking his friend on the arm.

"What? It's true. She's a nice cushion to land on," Dom said in defense as Matt smacked him again. "Ow! Quit hitting me! I was only speaking the truth!" he whined as Matt smacked him again. "Ow!"

"Cheeky bastard," Chris laughed, shaking his head as Matt continued to physically abuse his drummer. "Settle down kids. Don't make me separate you two!" Chris said in a very fatherly tone as the two overgrown boys stopped their bickering.

"It's alright. He didn't do much damage aside from a possible bruise on my leg from where he landed," I said with a shrug. "At least he didn't cop a feel when he fell. If he did, he wouldn't be standing right now," I added with an evil glint in my eye.

Dom swallowed hard once he say the way I was looking at him and started walking down the hall once again, muttering about how he shouldn't get on my bad side if he wanted to keep his head. I laughed, shaking my head as we all followed him, wondering if he actually took me seriously.

Once we reached the busy London streets, we turned left at the corner and headed down the block a ways toward the restaurant. We all had sunglasses on our faces, despite the weather being dull and grey out, just to mask our identities a bit. Since we were in the busier part of London where a lot of the stars lived, we were more cautious about being spotted by paparazzi that were waiting to catch some kind of stupid photo of people trying to live their lives. It was one of the downsides of being an actress but I knew that I had sacrificed my happiness in order to pursue my first love.

"So, what did you really think?" Matt asked lowly so only I could hear his question.

"What'd I think about what? The music?" I asked curiously as he nodded. "I told you I liked what I had heard so far. Do you doubt the sincerity in my words?"

"No but I was kind of hoping for more of that constructive criticism we talked about last week," he said with a smile, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"Well, if you want constructive criticism," I said teasingly, "Basically, though it's nothing like your last album in the sound, I can feel that you all have raised the bar for this one with how you're approaching the writing process. The message behind the lyrics is still very similar to what you did on the last album but there's a more of a positive hope behind some of it, especially with 'The Resistance'. I could just feel the hope when you kept singing 'love is our resistance'," I explained, trying to be as thorough as possible.

"See, that's the kind of feedback I like to hear! I want to know what you really thought aside from the generic answer most people are accustomed to receiving," he said excitedly.

"Well, considering I've only heard one song so far, I don't really have much to gage a response on but once we finish lunch and head back to the studio, I'll get the chance to listen to some more music and give you some more feedback with great detail," I smiled.

He chuckled, "That's all I ask."

Suddenly, I heard 'Map of the Problematique' begin to play very loudly from my purse, making me stop walking along the sidewalk and blush at the choice of ringtone for my phone. Matt looked at me curiously, chuckling lowly as I sheepishly dug around the large black hole that was my bag to stop the ringing. Dom and Chris noticed that we weren't trailing as closely behind them so they stopped as well, watching as I finally pulled my phone out of my bag, increasing the volume of the ringtone.

"So, I guess she really is a fan of our music then," Chris said with an amused smile.

"Total groupie," Dom grinned with a wink.

"Oh just shut up you bastards," I laughed, flipping open the phone and pressing the receiver to my ear to answer the call. "Hello?" I said, noting knowing who I was speaking to.

"Gabriella darling," Carolina's posh voice rang through my ear, making me hold the phone away a bit.

"Hey Carolina," I sighed, gesturing for the guys to continue walking.

"So, how's my favorite client's vacation going? Getting any profound meditation or whatever it is that you were looking to achieve with this break away from work?" she asked in a rather uninterested voice.

"Of course. I'm enjoying listening to my neighbor's band record their next album. We're heading off to lunch right now," I said.

"Band? What band are you talking about?" she asked with great interest.

"A band you wouldn't recognize. They're not your cup of tea," I said, not giving her the info she wished to hear.

"Oh well," she sighed with defeat, "have you made any decisions about the scripts in your flat yet?" she asked curiously.

"Not yet. Trust me, when I find something, I'll call you and you'll be the first to know, ok? Please stop asking the repetitive questions and just let me enjoy my time off," I said, running a hand through my hair as we reached the front of the restaurant. "But we're here to eat now so I'll call you later, yeah?" I said, not really waiting for her response before hanging up the phone.

I tossed the phone back into my bag as Chris opened the door for everyone else, allowing us into the restaurant. The thing I loved about Salvatore's was how private it was in here with the intimate dim lighting and booths of comfortable black leather. There was a seating hostess standing near the front podium, writing in the appointment book as I looked around the busy restaurant, trying to spot a table for the four of us to sit down. Finally the young hostess looked up to the four of us, eyeing our casual appearance, since this restaurant usually catered to the well-dressed, upper-class, before speaking to us.

"Welcome to Salvatore's Italian Cuisine," she smiled, using that overly nice voice that many restaurant employees used with their customers, "May I have a name for the reservation?"

"Actually, we don't have a reservation," I replied, stepping forward. "If you could tell Alessandro that Gabriella Nightingale is here, I'd greatly appreciate it," I smiled.

"One moment please," she said, leaving the podium momentarily and disappearing into the kitchen to pass along my message.

I glanced at the other guys, who were looking around at the artwork that hung in the front lobby, Matt pointing to a painting to a villa on the oceanfront as he talked to Chris about whatever. I unbuttoned my coat, waiting patiently for Alessandro to appear. It had been a while since I saw him so I hoped he was here today. Sometimes it was a crapshoot to try and see Alessandro at the restaurant.

"Gabriella!" I heard the unmistakable Italian accent say with much enthusiasm.

I smiled wide, walking closer to the muscular, modelesque Italian stud and wrapped my arms around him for a hug. Alessandro and I knew each other from University. We were both taking classes, sharing a psychology class when we became friends. He told me he wanted to take over running his family's restaurant while I told him I wanted to be a serious actress. We would occasionally run into each other at different functions but remained friendly with each other after all the years after university.

"Alessandro! It's good to see you again," I smiled, pulling away from him. "How've you been?"

"I've been great. I just got married last month to Liliana," he replied.

"That's so great!" I smiled. "I'm so happy for you two. You were always the happy couple in school."

"What about you? I heard about the success from your last play. Have you got anything else lined up next?" he asked eagerly.

"Not yet. I'm taking some time off from acting to just relax and enjoy the scenery," I replied. "Actually, I'm here with some friends and we were hoping to grab some lunch, if that's ok," I smiled.

"Of course it is! I always have room for you," he boasted loudly.

I gestured for the guys to walk over, which they did, staring at the very eccentric Italian man as he spoke to the hostess in Italian. Matt glanced at me curiously, which made me wonder what he was thinking. I just smiled back as Alessandro looked back at us, eyeing each one of the guys.

"You look awfully familiar," he said to the guys.

"They're in a band. We're just here in between recording sessions to get some food," I explained. "Alessandro Salvatore, meet Matt Bellamy, Dom Howard, and Chris Wolstenholme of the band Muse. Guys, this is Alessandro Salvatore, manager of the restaurant and a friend of mine from University," I said, gesturing to everyone.

"Oh brilliant! I'm a big fan of your music," Alessandro replied, happily shaking hands with my three escorts.

"Thank you," Matt replied with a smile.

"Now, I think your table is ready so if you will follow me," Alessandro said, snatching the menus from the hostess' hands and murmuring to her harshly in Italian.

"I didn't think you knew any hot Italian men," Dom said amusingly so only I could hear.

"I didn't think Italian men were your type Dom. Unfortunately for you, this one's already married and to my knowledge, not really a homosexual," I replied. "I guess you're out of luck if you wanted him."

Chris laughed, shaking his head as Dom crossed his arms over his chest the way a child would when pouting. Dom looked like he was going to say something else when Alessandro stopped in front of our booth, gesturing for us to take a seat. I happily slid into the seat beside Chris while Matt sat right across from me, glancing at Dom, who begun playing with sugar packets. We each got our menus, which we thanked him for as he brushed some of his perfectly quaffed hair out of his face.

"Your waiter will be out momentarily and if you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask for me," Alessandro said. "It's good to see you again Gabriella."

"You too Alessandro. Thank you," I replied.

He bowed slightly, winking at me before taking off in the direction of the kitchen. I opened up the menu and began looking at the different choices of Italian cuisine in front of me, trying to pinpoint what would be the best one to have for my lunch. Chris leaned back beside me, relaxing into the leather as he scanned the menu as well. Dom, who was distracted by creating a tower of sugar packets, quickly opened up the menu and scanned the pasta section before shutting it again and resuming construction on his tower of sugar.

"Did you already decide what you're getting?" I asked Dom.

"Fettuccini Alfredo with chicken," Dom said, carefully placing the next sugar packet on top.

"No matter where we go for pasta, he always gets the same thing," Chris added, shaking his head.

"Just makes my life easier when it comes to deciding, doesn't it?" Dom said.

"Well, I'm set on the Crab Carbonera," I replied, shutting my menu.

"The Pasta Primavera looks quite good but I'm not sure," Chris said.

"I may be a traditionalist but I think I'll go for regular spaghetti and meatballs with marinara sauce," Matt said, shutting his menu.

"Sometimes it's better to go the traditionalist route," I replied with a smile.

"So, wine with our meal?" Chris asked curiously.

"If we have one glass, we should be fine. Just as long as we don't plan on getting sloshed before returning to the studio. I don't think Roger would be too thrilled if that happened," Matt replied with a shrug.

"A glass of red wine does sound good," I said, looking over the wine list on the back.

"So that settles it," Chris said, shutting his menu. "Pasta Primavera!"

The waitress approached our table, greeting us more warmly than the hostess did, and took down our orders. We handed off the menus to her before she walked back toward the kitchen. Turning my attention back to the table, I noticed Dom knock his tower over, making childish sound effects with his mouth as he did so. I just shook my head at him and questioned whether he deserved to be in elementary school still.

"So, how's your vacation going so far? Matt told us that you were taking a break from acting," Chris said.

"Aside from the annoying daily calls of my manager trying to push me into my next roll, it's going extremely well. It's been years since I've had time to myself where I'm not rushing to rehearsals or theatre functions or meetings. I'm really enjoying the time I have to breathe," I replied.

"Understandable. We definitely know how it gets after being on the road for a long time," he replied.

"Have you given anymore thought as to what you want to do next?" Dom asked curiously.

I shook my head, "I've tried read the scripts in my apartment but so far, I haven't found anything interesting."

"You should be Hamlet. I could totally see you holding a skull and reciting the 'To be or not to be' speech," Dom said, puffing his chest up and speaking deeply.

"Hamlet's a man you prat," Matt laughed.

"Is there a rule that Hamlet can only be played by a man though?" Dom quipped, thinking he had the upper hand.

"Unfortunately, I don't think I'd be picked to play Hamlet. I don't really have an interest in being Hamlet. Tragedies are too miserable to act out. I much prefer comedies," I explained.

"Yeah, tragedies are kind of a drag to see," Chris nodded. "Most of the time I wind up feeling way too depressed after watching one."

"Acting them is the same way," I said.

"Well, hopefully you'll find yourself a nice comedy to work on," Matt smiled.

"Either that or something that's not so depressing," Chris said as the waitress brought back our wine.

"So is this what you all do when you're recording? You stay in the studio for hours on end working on songs?" I asked.

"Pretty much," Chris shrugged. "Though I hope I can go home to my family in Teignmouth before we head to Italy."

"Italy?" I asked, looking at Matt with some shock.

"Yeah, we're going to record in Italy for a while, you know, a change of scenery," Matt said with a shrug, taking a sip of his wine. "We shouldn't be gone for too long."

"Three weeks or so," Dom added.

"When are you leaving?" I asked, suddenly feeling a sense of disappointment at the knowledge of their departure.

"In about a week or two?" Chris said unsurely.

"Wow, seems rather soon," I said, trying to mask my disappointment. "Well, sounds like you'll have a good time in Italy."

"I hope so," Dom said. "Though I'm gonna die without a proper fish and chips shop."

"But at least you'll get all the pasta you want," Chris added.

I glanced at Matt, who was rather silent once the news of Italy was mentioned. He was quietly leaning against the leather booth, studying my expression with curious eyes. All I could do was briefly smile at him before the arrival of our food broke my concentration. She passed around the dishes we ordered and informed us that she would be back to check on us later.

Lunch was quite uneventful as Chris and Dom went on about what songs they were to record in Italy during their stay. Matt and I hardly spoke but kept stealing glances at each other every so often. When either one of us caught the other staring, we would turn our attention back to our food or pretend to engage ourselves in Dom's incessant chatting. I had to force myself to hide the smile that threatened to spread as well as the blush that fell upon my cheek when I caught him looking at me.

At one point during the meal, it seemed that everyone sampled everyone else's dishes. We would shuffle the plates to the left, taking a bite of the dish before shuffling again. Once we took a bite of the meals, we weighed in our opinions of the food, most of the comments pleased with the taste of the food. Dom's objection to the Primavera was that there were too many vegetables rather than pasta for his liking, making him sound just like a young child with his contempt for the food group.

Our plates were cleared and glasses nearly empty by the time we got the check, which led to everyone disagreeing about who was to pay. All of the guys were insisting that they pay for my meal while at the same time, trying to pass the whole of the bill to each other, arguing about who's turn it was to pony up the dough. In the end, I got tired of waiting for them to decide and slipped the waitress my credit card when she started clearing the plates.

"No, no, no! I was the one that paid for the Chinese last week. It's your turn this time," Dom argued.

"Not true. Chris paid for the Chinese last time! You always come up with the same defense whenever we get a bill for our meals," Matt replied.

"He's right Dom. You always try and wriggle your way out of paying for anything," Chris said knowingly. "It's your turn to pay this time."

"Why are you all ganging up on me all of a sudden? You always pick on me for no reason," Dom whined.

"Because it's your turn to pay you miserable bastard," Matt said with a laugh. "Now pay so we can head back to the studio before Roger yells at us for being late," Matt ordered.

Dom grumbled lowly to himself as the waitress returned, handing me my card as well as a pen and receipt to sign. Dom smiled brightly when he realized that he no longer had to pay for the meal while Chris and Matt were looking at me with slight disapproval. I quickly signed the receipt, adding money on the check for tip before placing it back on the table and shoving my card back into my purse.

"We told you that you didn't have to pay," Matt said to me.

"It's not like a gentleman to let the lady pay," Chris added.

"Well, someone had to resolve this conflict somehow and while I appreciate the chivalry, I'm perfectly capable of paying for things on my own," I laughed.

"But I would have paid for it," Dom said rather unconvincingly, earning looks of disbelief from Matt and Chris. "Eventually…"

"It's ok Dom. My treat this time," I winked. "Now, shall we head back to the studio for more music making magic?" I asked eagerly.

"I suppose so, since the bill has finally been handled," Chris said with a sigh, glaring at Dom.

We all rose from the table, putting our coats on once again and exited the warm restaurant. When we got to the sidewalk, however, we were met with bright, flashing lights that were blinking rapidly before us. The camera flashes from the paparazzi that had gathered were blinding me as we pushed our way back into the restaurant lobby. I blinked a few times before looking at Matt, Dom, and Chris, who seemed just as confused as me.

"Where did they come from?" Dom asked, peeking out the window.

"I have a feeling I know where," I said with a sigh, running my hand through my hair. "Let's see if we can sneak out through the kitchen entrance," I said, digging through my purse for my phone.

I requested to see Alessandro once again, finding my phone in my purse quickly. I flipped it open and began furiously texting Carolina, who I thought was responsible for this media invasion. Once I finished, I tossed my phone back into my bag with a huff and tried to think of all the reasons why she would call them out. She knew I wasn't a fan of being in the spotlight, especially when I was trying to live my life normally but whenever my name was in the papers, it seemed she got more money from her company. Show business was all about the buzz and I was a big part of the buzz apparently.

Alessandro walked out of his office, trailing behind the hostess with a curious expression. I explained the situation to him, which thankfully he understood, as he led the four of us through the kitchen and out the delivery entrance that would take us to the other side of the street was walked up. With another hug and kiss on the cheek, I bid Alessandro adieu and quickly walked through the busy London streets with the guys, all of us looking over our shoulders to see if we were being trailed.

"Do you think your manager called them out?" Matt asked me.

I sighed once again and nodded, "Yeah, I think she did. She must have looked up the tenant information to our building and discovered you lived next door. Once she figured out I was spending the day with a group of famous musicians, she tracked down our location somehow and led the media there," I explained.

"But why would she actively invade your privacy?" he asked quizzically.

"She says any attention I stir up in the media is bound to be good for my career and lead to more job offers," I shrugged. "Honestly, I hate it but there's not much I can do. She always denies that she's the one that calls them and I can't really prove she's the one doing it so I just have to accept it. I try my best to give her vague details about where I am and what I'm doing to avoid these types of situations. I guess I let too much information slip," I said.

"Shouldn't she respect your wishes to not be in the press?" he asked seriously.

"She should but Carolina insists she knows what she's doing and at this point, I'm too tired to have the argument anymore. Besides, I don't think they got a clear shot today so I'm safe for now," I added, trying to make the best out of this situation.

"We weren't outside for more than a few seconds so I don't think they got what they wanted either," Matt smiled.

"Oi you tossers! Hurry it up! We were due back in the studio fifteen minutes ago!" Dom called out, earning a smack on the back of his head from Chris. "Ow! Why does everyone insist on bloody hitting me today?"

"Cuz you're an easy mark," Chris replied dryly, turning the corner.

"The more time I spent with you lot, the more I begin to wonder how old you really are," I said to Matt, laughing.

"We may look like respectable men but deep down past the exterior, we're just geeky twelve year olds who fiddle around with instruments," he said with a sly grin.

By the time we walked back into the studio, I was suddenly beginning to become more aware to the affect Matt's smile had on me. Spending time with Matt, Dom, and Chris was a lot more fun that spending time alone in my apartment because it reminded me that I wasn't alone, despite the little friends I had. Matt was especially someone I enjoyed being around because he made me feel good. I couldn't explain properly how my heart pounded every time I caught him staring at me but it was a good feeling I didn't want to let go of.

Despite the brief interuptance of the media on our lunch out, it had been a good day. I really hoped that this was just the tip of the iceberg in my time spent with the guys of Muse. They were definitely making my life more interesting by their company.