The Samurai in Autumn | By : fundamellie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pet Shop Boys Views: 1857 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Oh dear! I sighed and breathed in deeply before I walked down the stairs. Just square your shoulders, hold your head up and pretend everything’s just fine, I thought, When I got into the studio, Chris was playing the rough demo of a song we had written in the morning. We had not been satisfied with the way the drum line went, so I guess Chris was trying to figure out how to alter the rhythm. I let him fiddle with the knobs and switches of the mixing desk for a while, stepping up behind him. Trying to look casual, I put my hands into my pockets before I spoke up.
“So, have you been able to figure out something that works?”
Chris glanced over his shoulder, turned the volume down and turned around to face me fully.
“No,” he answered. “Long shower, eh?”
He smiled and I just nodded, not willing to get any deeper into this ridiculous game. As I watched, Chris smile transformed itself into a broad grin once more and I felt almost as irritated as I had on the staircase. What was he up to now?
“Ouch, “ he said. “Now, where did you get that?”
He stepped closer to me and touched my lips lightly with his index finger. When he held it up for me to take a look at, its tip was slightly bloody. Oh dear, I must have bitten myself so hard that my lip was raw now. The blood shot right up into my head again, colouring my face a dark shade of red. My ears and cheeks were burning. Chris still grinned, looking intensely at me. He was standing so close and I was so confused that I thought I could feel the heat of his body.
“He’s going to kiss me, he’s going to kiss me, “ a voice repeated frantically in my head. “Please, kiss me.”
Then Chris wiped his hand on his jeans and punched me gently in the stomach.
“Naughty Neil again?” he laughed, stepping backwards.
“Shall I play you the melody I came up with for the middle part for that song-with-no-lyrics?”
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