I Can Taste the Failure

“Lost your license, eh?” I said, words slightly muddled as I talked around the pen in my mouth and stared down at the file in front of me. “Oh, drunk driving,” I finally looked up, smirking slightly, “Just between you and me, if you’re going to get blitz, it’s best not to get caught, even better not to drive at all.”

The boy in front of me- it was strange, but I felt as if I knew him from somewhere- slightly bobbed his head before swiping his hair out of his eyes, “It’s not like I knew any better, yeah? I was drunk.”

I hopped off of my desk, kicking the chair I had been using as a foot rest to the side. I snapped shut the file and tucked it under my arm.

“Well, you’ll be getting the full capabilities of your license back in three weeks if you continue to meet with me every Tuesday and Thursday. But- and this is important because if you break these rules you will lose your license fully- for the next three weeks you can drive with another licensed adult in the passenger seat,” I skirted around him and left the room, not needing to tell him to follow after me. “Amazing, really, that three week sentence… Did you bribe the judge?”

He let out a low chuckle, “I don’t think I’d be able to keep a straight face in court if I bribed the judge, to be honest.”

I shrugged my thin shoulders, “Well, that’s your loss. I’ve found that bribery comes in handy. Anyway, what’s the deal? I’ve dealt with a lot of people, and your suspension is by far the shortest I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m in a band, y’know? The judge is a fair guy.”

I stopped short and his stride slowed down until he turned to give me an odd look.

“A band, huh?” I said, cocking my head to the side, making my curly dark red-brown hair cascade farther down my side. I paused, looking at his face, until I said, “Bring Me The Horizon?”

“That would be the one.”

I pointed a finger at him. “Oliver Sykes?”

“That’d be me,” he said, holding out a tattooed hand.

I shook it and gently let it go. “Name’s ‘olley,” I got out before I giggled the slightest bit.

Oliver- was it polite to call him Oli when I hardly knew him?- raised an eyebrow at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, luvvie,” I said, a little dopey smile on my lips. “It’s just that my mum simply hates you,” I shook my head and continued down the hall, his longer strides easily matching my pace. “After the Nottingham incident, you know? She read it in the newspaper.”

An easy smirk slid into place on his lips and he shook his head. “It’s simply amazing how far trashy gossip will travel.”

We broke out into the daylight, the sun blaring down on us from high up in the sky. It was a beautiful day; sun bright, sky endlessly blue, with white clouds sprinkled in the mix. I was more of a drizzly day girl and to go along with that mentality was my easily sun-burnt skin, though it was still nice out, and not too hot.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t hate you,” I paused. “Or, that matter, do I think you did it,” I squinted my eyes at him, slightly appraising. “It’s funny, my roommate writes an entertainment column, says you’re a complete asshole. But she may have been talking about your unhealthy sexual drive, since I’ve counted about four times already that you’ve glanced at my ass.”

Oliver had the nerve to look sheepish, though I had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t the first time he had been caught. “Your skirt,” he said, allowing himself another glance. “It’s very fuckin’ nice.”

I smirked, “I’m taking that as a compliment, Mr. Sykes.”

“As you should, and it’s Oli.”

“Right, Oli, then,” I said in a friendly voice. We stopped in front of a large white SUV, which made me look like a pint-sized fifteen-year-old next to it. Though to be fair, I stopped growing all together once I hit high school, permanently leaving me at 5’3. “Just go on and get in the driver’s seat and take me wherever you want. Hint- I’m dying for a coffee. Preferably drive-thru.”

“Not afraid to speak your mind, eh?” he asked conversationally as he started up the car, making it rumble to life beneath us. He seemed to enjoy my company, which somehow pleased me.

Oliver Sykes kept his eyes focused on the road, giving me an opportune time to really look at him. It was evident at first sight that he was blaringly gorgeous, with a steel lip ring, long brown hair, very golden-brown eyes, and intricate tattoos snaking around his body, though it was more than that. He held himself in a strange way, for being a performer- slightly awkward, quiet, though somehow still exuding an alluring confidence.

I shot him a wide smile. “I’m verbal, to say the least.”

He bobbed his head, “S’good, different, but good.”

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“You’ve got to get to know me-” a smile flickered in Oliver’s eyes, “or get me drunk.”

I bit my lip, shaking from silent laughter. “You should see me when I’m drunk; I completely fuck myself over.”

“Drink of choice?” he asked randomly and I immediately blurted out, “Always a Mojito, preferably the fruity kind.”

“You’ve got good taste, Holley,” Oliver told me. “You party a lot?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but I get a bit wild when I party, a little out of control. What I told you in my office, about bribing that judge? A very true story, one that I will for-sure remember forever.”

He smirked and shook his head, taking his eyes off of the road for a second to glance at the length of my body sprawled comfortably in the passenger seat, “You? But you’re so tiny.”

“What?” I said defensively. “Short-ish people can’t party?”

“Oh, no, I know a very short person that can party,” Oliver told me just as he swung into the long waiting line at the local Dunkin’ Donuts, the car humming idling as he kept his foot on the break. “I know this is a little strange, but if you promise not to write it down in your report-” he grinned at me. “I’d like you to come to a party I’m throwing tonight.”

“Tonight, huh?” I paused, wrinkling my nose in thought. “Not sure if that’s the best idea, really. Remember my friend, the entertainment journalist? She’d kill me unless I brought her along and secured an interview. She’s been going through a rough patch lately.”

“I think ’Horizon can spare a little interview. Anything for fans, you know? And to help your friend out.”

“You’re just going to invite me to your party? You hardly know me, Oli-” I loved the way his nickname sounded on my lips. “What if I’m a crazy? It’s not like you would know.”

“I’m fairly certain that you are crazy, and that it’s of the non-dangerous variety.”

I was still grinning when a scratchy teenage voice droned over the drive-thru intercom, “Welcome to Dunkin’, what can I get’cha?”

I was gestured to and I leaned over into Oliver, pressing my palm into his mid-thigh to prop myself up as I ordered.

“Uh, I’ll have a large iced coffee, French vanilla please?”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Perfect, yes.”

“’Kay, anything else?”

I pulled myself away from Oliver, who was staring at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. Unable to read his expression, I snapped my fingers in front of his face, his mouth slightly curled into what I would say was a smirk, though his eyes were sort of zoning out. “Oliver?”

“Right, yes, uh, I’ll have the same- black, please.”

“Are you alright?” I asked him curiously as we pulled up to the window.

He chuckled roughly- definitely more husky than usual, “’Course, just, you know, zoned out.”

I didn’t have much time to think about it, because the turn I wanted him to take was coming up. I pointed to the right, “Highway alright? You’ve still got an hour or so of driving left to do.”

“Perfect, yeah.”