Seven Nights in Ireland

“Oli.” Tom jabbed at me with a finger, to which I mumbled incoherently into my pillow and slapped his hand away. “It’s eight o’clock, mate. We’re supposed to leave in like fifteen minutes. Are you okay? You seem right knackered.”

“I am.” I grumbled, throwing my arm over the edge of the bed. I couldn’t see him, but I’d hoped to hit him; too bad he moved and my arm fell limply over the side of the mattress. “Go away.”

“You have to get up, Oli. You can’t sleep all day. Why’re you so knackered, anyway? We went to bed at like one, dude.” Tom continued, kicking my arm. “Get the fuck up or I’ll get Sheep after you. I know you don’t want that.”

I raised my head up and glared at him. “I don’t give a shit. Get out of here.”

“No.” He said, defensively, like a little brother would. “I’m not getting me arse chewed out because you’re being a wanker. Get up or I’ll literally drag you out of bed. I’m not jokin’.”

I grabbed my spare pillow with one fist and rammed it into his face, almost knocking him completely backwards. I sat up, dodging the pillow when he threw it back, and got up to throw on some clothes.

“Did you go somewhere last night?” Tom inquired, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m just right tired.”

“Well,” He continued, knowingly. “I coulda’ swore I heard someone leave last night… Know anything about that?”

I shook my head again, bending over to tie my Vans. “Nope. I was sleepin’.”

“Hm.” He said, a puzzled look on his face. “So nobody came over, then?”

“No.” I sighed angrily. “Could you just shut your gob for a minute? Sod off, Tom.”

Tom didn’t protest this time, just turned on his heel and left the room. Finally. When I was finished tying my shoes, I followed his loud footsteps down to the lift and got on with him. When the doors closed and we began descending floors, I sighed and spoke.

“I’m sorry, Tom.” I said quietly.

He just nodded, a small smile twitching at his lips. “I know.”



How Tom did it, I don’t know. I will probably never know how Tom knew every single thing about me; what I did, when I did it, and when and how I’d lied to him about it. I should’ve known that he would find out sooner or later; I just didn’t want to believe it.

We sat quietly in the car while we waited for the rest of the band to come out of the audio store we’d just done a CD signing in. Loads of kids were waiting just outside the doors, and our car, for us to come out. Too bad I’d snuck out fifteen minutes early

“So,” Tom said, kicking off his shoes. I grimaced at the faint smell, but quickly turned my head to look out the window. “How was Finn last night?”

I whipped my head back around to him, trying not to look so stunned; he always knew. “She were fine.”

“You lied to me, Oli.” He said, a knowing smile on his mouth. “When will you learn? Thomas knows all…”

“Shut up, you big sod,” I rolled my eyes, turning my face back to the window. “I were only out for a couple of hours.”

He scoffed. “Mate, you stumbled in about half past four. I heard you.”

“Why,” I started, rolling my eyes again. “Why the hell does it matter, Tom?”

He shrugged his slim shoulders, leaning back in the seat and tucking his hands behind his head. “Doesn’t, really. Just making small talk.”

“Well you don’t need to make ‘small talk’ with me. I’m your big brother. We have better things to talk about.” I grumbled. “Like when’re you finally gonna’ get over that dumb bird that dumped you and shag someone else?”

He ignored my jab and continued. “Why do you want this one so bad? She’s fit, mate, but not that fit. I’ve definitely seen hotter birds.”

“I haven’t had a shag in almost a week, Tom. Is that so hard to explain?” I was tired of his questions.

He laughed a little. “Well she’s not shaggin’ you, so there must be something else.”

“She is too.” I lied. “Why do you think I went to meet her last night?”

“Stop lyin’!” Tom laughed. “Once again… When will you learn?”

I sighed, defeated, and threw my head back to the back of the black leather seat. “Could we please not talk about this? Really.”

Tom didn’t say anymore as everyone else piled into the car quickly, dodging fans, and we took off to our next destination—to where, I had no clue.



When eleven o’clock finally rolled around, anyone who came looking for me would have found me lurking outside of Saint George’s Heart Institute, my hands shoved in my pockets and my hair blowing about my face. I wasn’t stalking the poor bird, I just couldn’t find it within myself to leave her alone. What it was about her, I don’t know. But I couldn’t leave her be. When I saw her coming off the lift, I skulked around a corner, suddenly regretting my decision to meet her again. What was wrong with me? I was creepy, to say the least.

She and another bird came out of the building, and I heard the sweet tune of her voice as they walked down the sidewalk, past me without realizing it, and out past the parking lot. They were quite a way in front of me before I finally decided that I would, in fact, approach her. My strides were long, but I had to double-up on steps to catch up with them. When I was only a few feet away from them, I cleared my throat quietly. I figured she would have noticed, but she didn’t, so I cleared my throat again, this time even louder.

She turned her head swiftly, doing a double-take before she realized it was me walking behind her. She came to a complete stop, along with her confused-looking mate, and dropped her hands to her sides, aggravated. She looked to her friend, a short blonde with the brightest blue eyes I’d seen since Tommy’s, and finally spoke. “I’ll catch up with you later, Lily.”

Lily raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down before turning her gaze back to Finn. “You sure, love?”

She nodded, keeping her angry eyes on me. “It’s fine. He’s a mate of mine.”

He’s a mate of mine, I thought, feeling triumphant; even though she was only saying that to get us alone, where she would, no doubt, verbally abuse me again.

Lily hesitated slightly, before turning her back on us and walking away hastily, leaving me and Finn alone. I had been nervous up until that moment, when I turned a little scared.

“This has seriously got to stop.” She seethed. “You’re following me. I don’t know you, and you’re creeping me out. You’re a right stalker, you know that? Are you mad? You can’t just stalk anyone you want, batting your pretty-boy eyelashes at them, and trying to get in their pants! It’s not right, you sod!” I stood speechless as she continued, gritting her teeth and balling her tiny fists up until the skin across her knuckles was pale white. “What gives you the right to wait for me outside of my work for Christ’s sake?”

I shook my head when she waited for me to answer, but she didn’t say anything else after that. “I don’t know.” I finally said. “What makes you hate me so much?”

She laughed incredulously, her mouth opening and closing, much like a fish gasping for water. “Did you not just hear my spill about the stalking?”

“Yeah, I heard it.” I said sarcastically. “Besides that.”

She sneered at me, looking me up and down just like Lily had before she left. I could see her eyes glancing over each tattoo that wasn’t covered in clothing, before her eyes reached my hair. I then picked a hand up to smooth my hair down, knowing it must look like a right mess right then. “You’re annoying. You’re stubborn, and you won’t give up. I hate that. I hate your hair. It’s never fixed like it is in the pictures I’ve seen of you—“

“So you know who I am, then?” I interrupted her, raising my eyebrows. This made me feel even worse about myself. I hated when these stupid birds made assumptions about me, because they knew my band and that I was famous.

“Don’t interrupt me!” She stomped a foot on the ground. “You won’t let me fucking talk!”

I lowered my head and shoved my hands back down deep in my pockets, suddenly less confrontational.

“No, I don’t know who you are.” She continued. “I don’t know shit about you, other than I’ve seen you in a few pictures on the internet, posted by girls who just can’t get enough of you. I hate that none of your tattoos have any personal meaning to them at all. None of my tattoos don’t have meaning. And I hate that you act all confident one second, and then like a scared puppy the next; like you are now.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Well,” I said, calmly. “Normally when there’s a daft bird screaming in my ear, pointing out my every flaw,” My voice began to rise with every word, until I was yelling just as loud as she was. “I try not to give her reasons to continue.” She didn’t say anything else, just continued to stare at me. “You done now?” I asked.

She didn’t reply, so I stepped around her small body and started walking away, leaving her there to watch me. Frustrated with myself, I glanced at every street sign trying to direct myself toward my hotel. “Where the fuck is Duke Street?!” I growled, not really to anyone, just trying to clear my head.

Within two seconds, she was by my side, rolling her eyes, a sneer still plastered on her small face. “Let me at least get you to your hotel.”

“Why?” I asked, staring at the cars passing by.

“Frankly,” she started, softly, “I feel a little sorry for you.”

I didn’t say anything else to her, but followed her down York Avenue for a few blocks, until we met the corner of York and Duke. She turned swiftly on her heel and continued down Duke Street, ignoring my sluggish footsteps behind her. I watched her hips sway as she walked—she must have felt my eyes on her, because she glanced back at me over her shoulder more than once and smirked.

“Gettin’ a good look, there?” She finally sighed, watching straight ahead as she strolled across the sidewalk.

I nodded, smugly. “Yep. You’ve got a nice arse there, love.” I stated, debating on whether or not I should reach out and grab it; I decided against that. “Too bad you’re such a bitch, or that would really turn me on.”

“It turns you on anyway.” She said confidently, until I strode up beside her. “What?”

I looked down at her, her emerald eyes sparkling as they flickered between my eyes and the sidewalk. “Nothin’.”

“Nothin’?” She mimicked my voice—pretty well, actually—and contorted her face. “Stop starin’.”

“I’m not!” I argued, sighing. “God, you’re so full of yourself, y’know that?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not full of myself, you twat. I just happen to know that you like me, and it is very amusing to watch you suffer.”

“Not really.” I retorted. “You’re an evil, evil bird, alright?”

“I know that, love.” She smiled a fake, sweet smile. “But you like me anyway.”

Her cockiness was really starting to piss me off; I guess that’s how people started to feel about me after a while, but it was cute when I did it. When girls did it, it was just plain annoying.

When we finally toddled up to my hotel, she turned to me and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, is this where you’re staying?”

I nodded, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. “Yep.”

“Hm.” Was all she said as she stared up at the building in awe. “You know, the only time I’d ever get to stay in a place like this is if I dreamed about it. And to you, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing to me,” I argued. “I never dreamed I would ever get to this point in my life. Thought I’d always be a trashy scene boy, getting beat up every day, living with my parents till I was forty-something.”

“But you’re not.” She stated, raising her eyebrows. “You’re spoiled.”

“Not spoiled.” I argued again, getting a little heated. “Everything I have in my life right now, every single thing I have, I’ve worked hard for. I earned every bit of it. I don’t have to listen to you call me spoiled.”

“Then don’t.” She said, gesturing to the door of the hotel with one hand, trying to cop an attitude with me.

I made a small ‘hmph’ noise and rolled my eyes. “So that’s it then? That’s why you won’t give me a chance? You think I’m spoiled and get whatever I want?”

She simply smiled at this—not a fake smile, a sincere one that I hadn’t seen on her lips before—and said “Bye.”

I stopped her with my hand, pulling her back around to face me. “You don’t understand me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. So?”

“I just want you to give me a chance.” I pleaded. “Can I at least have your number, love?”

She didn’t say anything, but stood, glancing nervously around us.

“Please?” I asked again, my voice a little more stern.

She sighed a big huff of air, blowing her fringe up in the air. “If I find you outside either of my jobs ever again…” She said as she pulled a pen out of her wallet. She grabbed my right hand that hung down to my side and scrawled a number out, quickly, before blowing on it a little to dry the ink. “I’m changing my phone number.”

I couldn’t help to smile like a little kid who’d just gotten ten tubs of ice cream for his birthday as she smiled up at me. I just nodded, speechless, as she turned and walked away.