Hello Sheffield

I stared at the empty, turquoise room. It was dry now, I’d finished painting it yesterday. My bedroom was almost done, only two walls were painted. I decided that I needed more cigarettes.

The fact that I’d blown through ten in two days frightened me. I hated to smoke but I was so stressed these days. I’d refocus on quitting after I got the house in order. In the hall, it was like a maze of furniture. I weaved around a book shelf and my desk.

I padded down the stairs, not wanting to break the quiet of the house. I sat at the bottom of the mahogany stairs, slipping my feet into my white tennis shoes. I grabbed my coat from where it was leaning against the rail post and pulled it on.

I clicked my tongue as I grabbed my wallet, phone, and keys. Getting a car was an absolute necessity. Of course, driving on the complete opposite side of the road might become a little bit of an obstacle. Better than walking to this damn corner store five times a day.

It wasn’t too cold today but it wasn’t exactly warm. The snow was barely on the ground anymore, which I was thankful for. I was ready for spring. My phone vibrated.

When I walked in, I got right on line. I stared at the text from Oli, asking if I had fun with Matty yesterday. I bit my lip, unsure of how to respond. I typed back quickly that I had had fun and that Matty did like trouble.

“How about yeh gimme yeh numbah?” the guy in front of me said. I glanced up to see who he was talking to. It wasn’t me; it was the blonde girl who was seemingly always behind the counter. She looked at him skeptically.

“No.” She continued to ring up his stuff. He leaned against the counter. I didn’t like the way he smirked when he looked out the window.

“C’mon. I’ve seen yeh ‘round wiff guys before.” I didn’t know if it was true, but if it was, that’s creepy. This guy wasn’t exactly young, probably in his mid-thirties. I wondered why he wasn’t at work or something.

“No.” She didn’t meet his eyes, only reached for the pack of gum. He grabbed her wrist and finally she looked up.

“I’ll tell your manager yeh were rude. I’m sure yeh need this job sweetheart.”

“Hey buddy, why don’t you fuck off,” I said loudly, stepping up to the counter. He looked at me in surprise. I stood tall at his gaze.

“What are yeh, a cop or somethin’?” he asked, chuckling and turning back to counter girl. I cleared my throat.

“No, but I’ll call them. I’m sure you don’t want to go to jail for harassment. A low life like you probably doesn’t have the money to get out on bail,” I said strongly, counter girl ripped her wrist from his slack wrist. “Like I said, fuck off.”

I was getting a little nervous because, after all, he was a hell of a lot stronger than I was. Judging by the way counter girl was rubbing her wrist he probably could do some damage. I held up my phone and raised an eyebrow.

“Bitch,” he snarled, brushing past me and leaving all his shit behind. I shrugged.

“It was nice meeting you too!” I yelled after him. He grunted and the door slammed shut. Counter girl’s eyes were wide as she shoved his items to the side. I smiled at her and put my phone in my pocket shakily. This was the first time I’d seen her wear an emotion other than boredom.

“Thank yeh so much, he’s such a creep. He approached my friend the other day,” she said. I shrugged. Her hands were shaking and she kept touching her wrist. I felt bad that I hadn’t called the police.

“I wasn’t just gonna stand around. Are you okay?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. She glanced down at her wrist and nodded.

“I think so. It was just kind of…shocking, I suppose. Well, what can I get yeh?” she asked, her breathing starting to slow.

“Ten Marlboro Lights,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket as it vibrated. She pulled them onto the counter. I opened my wallet and looked at her expectantly.

“That’s £6.15,” she said. I took out the money and handed it to her, glancing at my phone.

Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.

Not as much as you, I typed back, Hows your aunt?

“Yeh’ve gotten better with the money,” she commented. I nodded.

“It’s easier now.”

“Yeh’re the new American girl then? There’s been talk,” she said. I was a little surprised. Talk from who?

“I prefer when people call me Liv, but new American girl works too.” She chuckled and so did I. I was finally talking to a girl my age instead of all guys. It was refreshing.

“I’m Kate,” she said, reaching over the counter to put out her hand. I shook it and smiled at her. Her nose ring stood out against her pale skin. “How about we grab a bite of late lunch? Around four? I’ll pick yeh up.”

“Sure, that sounds great. Give me your number and I’ll text you my address,” I said. She put her number into my phone and I walked away with my cigarettes.

“Thanks again Liv!” she called. I smiled and waved as I left. I was excited about making a female friend. I lit up a cigarette and started walking home. My phone buzzed again and I checked it.

Not dead yet ill be home in a few hours. yeh should party with us yeah?

I smirked and felt my heart go into overdrive. There were two options: one, jump on that shit like a bee on honey, or two, ultimately play a hard to get. I wasn’t sure which I wanted to do. I took a long drag of my cigarette.

If I’m not busy, yeah.

It was good. It was brilliant. It was probably a little fucking weird. I would be busy…doing what exactly? It wasn’t like I was the famous one here. I was here for five days, it wasn’t like I had a huge variety of friends to hang out with.

Hope your not busy then xx

*

A car honked outside and I jumped slightly. I turned off the TV and grabbed my purse from the table next to the door. When I’d gotten home I still had hours to kill so I finished painting my bedroom and showered.

I changed into skinny jeans and boots, with a slouchy grey sweater with a black heart on it. A long silver chain hung around my neck. My hair was in loose waves and my makeup was darker than usual.

I ran out the door and to the shit car in my driveway. I got in and smiled at Kate. She looked better without the marroon work shirt. Instead, she wore a blue off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and tight jeans.

“‘Ello love. Yeh ready?” she asked, grinning. I nodded and she sped off. There was heavy metal music, the volume low, in the background. I was conscious of how fast she drove, her fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel.

“Yeh like Italian?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I answered awkwardly, feeling slightly out of place. She twitched as we stopped at a light. I was starting to feel like every person I met in England was going to be a bad driver. It seemed inevitable.

“Yeh don’t have to be so bloody awkward. Speak, woman!” she said loudly. I started to laugh. “Yeh saved my life earlier for fucks’ sake.” I smiled at her and felt the car lurch forward.

“Does anyone in England under the age of thirty know how to drive the speed limit?” I asked seriously. She snorted and rolled a brilliant green eye at me.

“Do people in America drive the limit?” she asked. I thought about it.

“Usually, if they don’t want to, I dunno, kill someone.”

She said nothing and pulled into a small restaurant’s parking lot. We walked in. It was quaint and dimly lit, not a place I was expecting to go to. She checked her phone when we sat down and groaned. I looked up from the menu.

I didn’t have to wait long before I got an explanation. “My mate and I were supposed to go clubbing later and she just cancelled. Fuck, I wanted to go,” she complained, opening the menu in front of her.

“Well, if you want, some of my friends are going out later. I’m sure it would be okay if you come along.” It would be nice to have some female back up. Even nicer to have someone to second opinion my outfit.

“Really? Oh, that would be great. Yeh’re an angel. But, uh, what friends might I ask?” she asked curiously. It was obvious from her tone that she wasn’t only curious to see who I’d made acquaintances with. She was obviously making sure that she would be in the company of people she hadn’t already had company with.

“Well, Matt Nicholls and Oli Sykes, maybe Tom as well,” I said, shrugging. Her eyes were as wide as baseballs.

“Fucking hell, you know Oli and Tom Sykes?” she asked, practically screaming. I shrugged again.

“And Matt Nicholls.” She shook her head, astonished.

“I really can’t believe it. Holy shit. Bloody hell,” she glanced back down at the menu. I smirked and looked at mine as well. I scanned it for something I wanted, deciding on a simple baked ziti.

“I take that reaction as you’re coming?” I asked, double checking. She looked at me in disbelief.

“Pass up the chance to party wiff Oli Sykes. I’d have to be right mental,” she whispered, “Of course that’s a yes. Don’t be a twat.” I chuckled. I pulled out my phone and texted my friend, telling him to expect me, and a friend.

As we ordered, my phone vibrated. Excellent, whos your friend?

This girl Kate. She works at the store we met in.

Finding things to talk about with Kate wasn’t very hard. We had the same taste in clothes and we went on forever about the best places to shop. It was almost embarassing how long we went on about clothes.

We got along well, as conversation shifted from clothes to family. She was surprised to learn that I moved out here alone and we were both unsurprised to learn that the pair of us hated their mothers. It seemed like everyone I knew hated their mom these days. Such a shame.

Conversation with her was effortless, and we got along great. It pleased me to know that I wouldn’t have to be surrounded by guys all the time. Looking nice was starting to get tiring. Lunch flew by and we were sitting in my driveway at 5 in no time.

“I’ll come round yours at about ten? Is that good?” she asked. I nodded.

“If you want, you can crash at my place when we get home. Hopefully we’ll be too wasted to even think about driving.” I stifled a giggle. Clubbing and then a sleepover, England was treating me well.

“Sounds brill. I’ll see yeh later,” she said as I got out of the car. I hurried into the house and flung myself up the stairs to my bedroom.

I had to look fantastic.

*

The dress itself was wonderful. I’d fallen in love with it the moment I saw it. It was sparkly with the base color being black. It was only a one shoulder dress, very classy. It was short, coming barely to mid-thigh. Underneath, I wore patterned tights. My sky high heels made me a little nervous.

Kate assured me that even though dress was killer, it was my change in makeup that made everything startlingly different. It was dark, clubbing dark. I dressed like this whenever I went out in America and no one ever said anything about it being different or anything. I let my hair stay in waves, too bored and excited to do anything with it.

I smashed my head on the counter as Kate tried to feed me butter cubes. Apparently eating raw butter helped line your stomach. She was popping them as if they were pills.

“C’mon mate, yeh’ll be thankin’ me in the mornin’,” she said, holding out butter to me. I raised an eyebrow at her and took it, shoving it in my mouth and grimacing. It was utterly disgusting and went against everything I had ever learned about butter.

“This is repulsive,” I choked out. She shrugged, throwing another chunk in her mouth and offering me another. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head impatiently when I didn’t take it right away.

“My uncle taught me this. Works like magic. Besides, you get used to the taste after a while.” I doubted that seriously but ate the butter anyway.

She was effortlessly pretty. She wore a strapless red dress that was longer than mine but not by much. She didn’t wear anything underneath and her heels were possibly shorter than mine but, again, not by much. She wore pale makeup in contrast to mine with lips redder than a rose. Her hair too, laid in waves.

We had been sitting for fifteen minutes when she told me about the butter trick. I thought she was kidding but when she actually got butter out of the fridge, I knew she was dead serious. The doorbell rang as she was shoving another piece at me.

“Put that shit away,” I said to Kate.

I answered the door to see Oliver, standing in dark skinny jeans and a Drop Dead t-shirt with a cardigan over it. His hair was straight and fell just the right way over his forehead. My heart beat strongly once and I shook my head.

“Liv, yeh look,” he faltered, his eyes scraping up my body and finally meeting my eyes, “Unbelievably sexy.” I shifted my weight and smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“You say that as if you think I wasn’t capable of it,” I said in a quiet, alluring voice. I knew my way around men. Or, better yet, I knew my way around men eyeing my body the way he was right at the moment.

“I knew yeh were capable but I never dreamed it would look this fucking good.” He leaned forward and hugged me tightly, pulling me flush against his body. For some reason, I didn’t think this would be the last time tonight I would be in such a position.

I was aware of Kate being behind me. Her clicking heels gave that much away. I pulled away from Oli, much too soon, and turned to her. She bit her lip and then smiled awkwardly.

“Oli, this is Kate. Kate, this is Oli,” I introduced, grinning as she did a little wave and he just smiled. I noticed his lack of compliments on how she looked. In all truth, she was stunning.

We walked out to the car, where more introductions were made, and I was sitting between Kate and Tom. The music was on blaringly loud and I grinned. This felt a lot like home.

“So where are we goin’?” Kate asked. She asked me before but I didn’t know. I didn’t really give a shit.

“Embrace,” Tom answered. I saw him eyeing her as he leaned forward. I bit my lip and smiled. Adorable.

“Fuck yes, I love it.” She leaned back and looked at me. “Love, it’s a good thing we ate the butter, we’re getting’ so pissed tonight.”

The line outside of the club was exceedingly long. It wasn’t like we had to stand on it. The people who saw us got excited, I could tell by the way their eyes bugged and they slapped their friends. Some rolled their eyes, as if seeing Oli Sykes wasn’t something that they really cared about.

The bouncers let us in immediately, greeting Oli and Matt as if they were old friends. I didn’t give a shit, anything to be out of the cold. The music was blasting as we made our way over to the VIP room. I was aware of Jona coming out of nowhere and intercepting us.

I’d only been VIP once or twice in New York City, and that was completely by luck. The room here was gorgeous, filled with people dancing and a bar on the other end. Kate squealed and gripped my wrist, screeching “Shots!” and tugging me along.

I’m no lightweight, but I’m no heavyweight either. Three shots and a rum and coke later, I was starting to feel pretty trippy. People were looking prettier, lights were looking brighter, and I wanted to get dancier. Swaying on my feet, I pulled Kate away from the boys, who had gathered around us, and toward the dancefloor.

I loved to dance. I loved it even more when most of my inhibitions were down and I didn’t have to worry about what people thought of me. Kate and I danced close, one hand clasped to the other. I spun her and she laughed.

Tom came over and said something to Kate. She beamed enthusiastically and nodded so violently I wondered if her head might fall off. I snorted at that idea and cleared my head, my thoughts becmoing clouded.

I smiled when they started dancing with each other. The music was loud and the bass was low, pumping through my chest. I was getting lost in the music. A finger tapped my shoulder gently, and I turned.

He was good-looking, with a chiseled jaw and short brown hair. He had the classic Abercrombie good looks. His hair appeared windswept and his cheeks had a very, very short layer of stubble, though it suited him. His casual white and blue striped button down fit him snugly, hinting at a more muscled body.

“Would yeh like to dance?” he asked, leaning down slightly so I could hear him over the music. I considered it for a moment. Gazing past his shoulder, I noticed Oli staring, the grip on his glass unhealthy.

My thoughts from earlier replayed in my head: one, jump on that shit like a bee on honey, or two, ultimately play a hard to get.

“Sure,” I said, shrugging. His hands found my hips, pulling me back into him. He smelled fantastic, I noticed. I felt him lean down a bit.

“I’m Daniel,” he said in my ear. I leaned my head back on his shoulder, Kate giving me a sloppy thumbs up. I smirked.

“I’m Charlotte.”

I don’t really know why I gave him a fake name. Maybe because I wasn’t interested in him in the least bit. Maybe because the look on Tom’s face told me that there was trouble in the form of Oliver Sykes coming.

“Mate, can I ask why the ‘ell yeh’re dancin’ with my girlfriend?” Oli asked, looking rather offended. Daniel’s hands were gone immediately and I rolled my eyes. He looked between us for a moment and put his hands up.

“I don’t want trouble. Sorry.” Oli just grinned at his retreating back before raising his middle finger. I rolled my eyes so he could see them. He smiled sheepishly at me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and started dancing with him. His arms immediately wound around my waist.

“You’re lucky you’re so hot or I’d be pissed,” I said in his ear. He laughed, pulling me tighter against him. Hands down I preferred dancing with Oli. Besides, I never liked Abercrombie much anyway.

“I think I’m a little more than hot love,” he said. I started laughing, resting my chin on his shoulder. He groaned as I started grinding into him harder.

Honestly, the last time I had sex was six months ago. Which isn’t normally such an issue, considering I had went about seventeen years without it. But with all the alcohol swirling in my blood, an extremely attractive male clinging to me, and only an extremely short dress covering my lady parts, well, it was an issue.

“I really like yeh Liv and we are not fuckin’ this up. As much as I’d like to fuck yeh, it really isn’t…appropriate, at this time.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeh want to.”

“You won’t let me.”

He sighed. I sighed too.

“Alright, I’ll play nice Oli.” He looked at me and grinned. I smiled back, relieved that the awkward, sudden desire was gone. I still wanted to dance though so we continued.

“Why’d you chase off Daniel? He was good-looking,” I slurred, alcohol clouding my brain now. He shook his head. I tightened my hold around him as we remained close, moving to the music.

“Like I said, Liv, we aren’t fuckin’ this up.”