‹ Prequel: A Heart Worth Breaking

I Can Feel You Forgetting Me

It Was Wrong, Yet So Right...

Loud music and even louder Welsh accents disturbed Elizabeth from the coma like sleep she had been entranced to. She couldn't help but wince as the bitter taste of stale alcohol and the foul taste of second hand cigarettes swarmed around in her mouth. She knew neither tastes had been created by her own accord, so it was obviously the fault of the man laying next to her.

Sparing a glance over to her left side, she took in the unmistakable features that assured her the man was in fact, Mr Matthew Tuck. Hair so dark it could be mistaken for coal, lips so pale they looked as if he had been playing in snow, the piercing placed right underneath the middle of his bottom lip and the choker that he was never seen without looped carelessly around his neck were all dead giveaways to the identity of the sleeping male.

Trying silently to haul the covers off her small frame, Elizabeth sighed softly. She should have never let it happen. People constantly warned her that it would, but she never listened. She always just shrugged it off saying she'd never fall for one of them, for a rock star. But being in the profession she was, she always knew, somewhere deep down, that it was bound to happen. There were only so many times you could say no, only so many times you could be the good girl, only so many times you could pass up an opportunity that would only ever come once in a lifetime.

Slipping quietly out of the bunk she was mounted in, she tightly wrapped one of the sheets they had slept on around her thin frame and closed the curtain to the bunk over behind her. Waking him up would only delay more time that she didn't have to spare. This weekend was the only chance she would get to show how good a journalist she was, Download was possibly one of the biggest festivals in the world, and getting the chance to interview any band she pleased was something she had dreamed of for years. Now it seemed as if she had ruined that dream.

Gathering her clothes from the already clothes covered floor was a task which she was not particularly enthusiastic about completing. The carpet covering the floor of the bunk section of the bus Bullet toured in, was already piled up with Metallica shirts in assorted sizes to fit each member, and ripped jeans seemed to be everywhere she looked.

After finally finding her clothes in a mismatched trail leading from the door of the bunk section to the bunk her and Matthew had spent the night in, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, somewhat unheard of by the man still fast asleep in the bed they had shared. Throwing her clothes onto the toilet seat she pulled her hair out of her face.

Looking in the mirror her eyes began to glisten. Disappointment was a feeling she had grown used to, she was used to being disappointed in people, disappointing other people, but today she had done something entirely new. She was disappointed in herself. She had practically thrown away her career for a one night stand, she hadn't stuck to her morals, and now she knew that she'd pay for her mistakes. She had one chance, all she had to do was turn up on time and interview the assorted bands she had been told to for three days. Just three days of doing things right and she was assured of a full time job, now almost three hours late there was no hope of ever resurrecting her dream.

Tears fell tauntingly from her eyes as she tried desperately to hold them back. Her cheeks had turned pale and her lips were lifeless, her hair stuck up in all directions, no doubt thanks to the activities held by the previous night, her shoulders were covered in purple marks, bites trailed down her neck. When she dropped the sheet she was covered up by she saw the full extent of her bruising, her hips were covered in marks almost black and her torso held the same blemishes his harsh grip had caused to occur. But you know what they say, guitar players are always very skilled with their hands, she just wished he wasn't quite so good at leaving an after mark on her skin.

After quickly changing back into her clothes and raking a hand through her hair she was as ready as she'd ever be. She knew that turning up to her boss in the same clothes she had worn the day before would cause some questions to arise, so she didn't even bother trying to cover up the bite marks and scratches lacing her neck. Instead she pulled her hair down over her shoulders and tried her best just not to make them obvious.

Just as she thought she had slipped out unnoticed, she felt a calloused hand grabbing her by the wrist. She turned around to be met by what she thought had to be the iciest pair of eyes in the entire world. Smiling down at her, with an ever so slightly hurt expression on his face due to the fact she was leaving, was Matthew Tuck.

''Leaving so soon?'' He questioned letting go of her wrist and instead rubbing the back of his neck with the hand he had used to stop her, a slight flush creeping across his cheeks.

Even with the simplest of sentences, he could make her heart flutter, whether it was the subtle tones of a Welsh accent hidden among his confident voice, or the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her, she didn't know, but something about him made her completely weak at the knees.

She couldn't help but wonder why he was asking such a question, why he was acting as if he cared, as if he would actually notice if she left. Surely to him she was just another hook up, another one for the books, another story to tell... but surely she meant nothing more. She had heard so many stories, people telling her that rock stars never cared, they simply had needs, and they had plenty of people willing to fulfill them... but it seemed to her as if he was different.

''Well yes. I suppose so.'' She stuttered, her voice cracking in a tone she hadn't expected.

Her job meant that she was constantly around the likes of Matthew, but something about him was different, he made her feel uneasy, but not in a bad way, she thought to herself that she felt more at ease yet more at edge with him than she had with anyone else before.

But the moment she let herself feel as if she could be comfortable around him, she snapped herself out of it by remembering the words her mother had once told her as a little girl, ''Be careful who you trust, the devil was once an angel.'' And one thing was for sure, he was not someone she thought she could trust.

''Can't you stay a while? I mean unless you have something to do.'' He asked, but then corrected himself abruptly by almost cutting off the offer her heart had skipped a beat to among hearing. By now a full blush had spread across his sculpted cheekbones and he was clearly aware of it by the way he fiddled with the cuff covering his wrist.

''I - I can't.'' She stuttered, kicking herself for turning him down.

But she knew all too well that after today, she'd never see him again. He'd leave, leaving her regretting not trying to stop him, that she hadn't told him how he had made her feel, that she'd chosen him over what she knew was right. She knew the voice in the back of her mind telling her to trust him, give him a chance was wrong, it couldn't be right. He was no different from any other guy she'd met, he couldn't be, and she didn't want to stick around long enough to find out if he was in fact different.

''Can't or won't?'' He asked with a knowing expression crossing his face. She looked away and bit her bottom lip.

He was going to try and persuade her to stay, but she wouldn't let him. Turing to the door and placing one trembling hand on the handle she replied almost so quietly that it was nothing more than a whisper, ''Does it matter? You'll have forgotten me by the time I've walked down these steps.''
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I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Matthew Tuck is the lead singer and rhythm guitarist for Welsh metal/rock band Bullet For My Valentine.