This boy (Robert Smith x reader)

Try again (28)

MAYA'S POV

It'd been a few weeks since I'd moved in with Nikki, and I'd finally managed to secure a stable job, to which I had rode a bike to since I had no car. It's not like I'd be able to drive in American traffic anyways.

I worked as a bartender yet again, at this place called the Sunset Strip. It was honestly a pretty enjoyable job. The pay was awesome, all of my coworkers were honestly just great people in general, and everyone there just knew how to have a good time.

According to my manager, a bunch of popular bands first performed at the Sunset Strip, including Mötley Crüe, which fascinated me.

I'd made some new friends who worked as strippers there, they were always the nicer ones.

Of course I enjoyed talking to my fellow bartenders, but they weren't as much fun as the strippers.

My alarm went sounding, scaring the hell out of me as usual.

For whatever reason, I was always put in for the earliest shifts, I assumed my boss just wanted me to kill myself.

I rose out of bed, letting my feet hit the cold ground as I dragged myself into the bathroom.

I let the hot water roll down my body, enjoying the warmth while it lasted.

I thought about my many trials and tribunes, and Robert too.

It seemed I couldn't ever get my mind off of him.

I'd thought about writing him a letter, but was too much of a whimp to actually go through with that idea.

I kept catching myself fantasizing about him more than I should've been. Often times he'd show up in my dreams where things actually worked out.

I couldn't help myself from creating scenes in my head where we stayed together, got married, maybe even grew old together and whatnot.

He raided my mind, but thankfully working at the Sunset Strip helped take him off my mind as lots of men tended to come in and flirt with every woman there, including myself.

After my shower, change of clothes, and breakfast, I said my goodbyes to a just woken up Nikki, and left.

The wind brushed through my hair as my nose began to turn pink from the coldness. The weather was changing again, just like my life apparently.

After securing my bike in its designated area, I walked inside to surprisingly find a certain somebody already there, waiting to be served.

"How did you even get in here?" I chuckled, surprised at this man's audacity.

"Josh got me a key last night." He replied with a groggy voice that sounded deprived of sleep.

Josh was my manager who I assumed had been tricked into giving that lunatic a key.

The man sitting at the bar was Axl Rose, a man who seemed to practically live here as he came everyday to drink away all of his nonexistent problems.

"Do you ever sleep Axl?" I sighed, walking behind the bar to fix him his usual.

"Only after you make me a drink." He said jokingly, making me chuckle.

He was a funny guy, but sometimes I was genuinely worried about him and his health.

I walked past the rockstar singer and into the back room, where I'd tie my apron around my waist and begin a long day of work.

***

I'd finally reached Nikki's place at about 9:30 P.M. Typically he wasn't even home by then. Apparently they were working on a new album, so late nights at the studio wasn't uncommon.

After placing my bike into the car filled garage, I walked out heading towards the mailbox to check it.

Recently, Nikki had been asking me to empty his mailbox for him, which overflowed with fan mail to which he surprisingly enjoyed reading. I figured since he's letting me stay with him it's the least I could do.

I opened it up to find an uncountable number of white envelopes, and maybe about one magazine.

I grabbed them all with both arms and made my inside to lay them all on the counter for Nikki to look at later.

                                          ***

I was about half asleep when I heard Nikki calling my name from downstairs.

"Maya, there's a letter for you!" Nikki shouted.

I dragged myself up confusedly, wondering what person out there in the world even really know about me enough to write me.

I mean, last time I checked, no one really gave a shit about Robert's Smiths ex-girlfriend or the random girl who just so happened to be staying with Nikki Sixx.

"Alright, I'm coming." I replied as I walked out of my room and down the stairs, rubbing my eyes that wished to be closed so badly.

I reached the counter to find piles of letters that had been organized by Nikki, and one outcast that was most likely mine.

I grabbed it off the counter and immediately turned back around to head back upstairs.

"Thanks, I'll probably read it tomorrow, I'm too tired for anything right now. Night." I spoke, a yawn following.

After making it back into the coziness of my room, I laid the envelope onto my the desk, and went over to my bed.

I snuggled into the sheets and puffy comforter, my body relaxing, but my mind deciding to do the opposite.

The more I tried to sleep, the more I thought about the letter. I thought about who could have wrote it, why they wrote, what it was about, and so on and so forth.

I couldn't stand it anymore, I rose up and turned my lamp back on. I ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter, seeing that whoever wrote it apparently had a lot to say.

By the first sentence, I already knew exactly who it was.

Dear Maya,
          I hope you're doing well, or at least better than how you were when you were with me. I know you were miserable, and I know that was mainly because of me. And I know I need to get my shit together, and I'm trying. Not just for my sake, but for yours also. I've managed to stay clean for a couple of weeks now, and Simon's convinced me into the therapy. It's helps a lot, but doesn't fix everything of course. It doesn't fix the past, the past filled with relationship problems and drug addictions.
You're probably wondering why I'm even writing to you. Well, in all honestly, I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for fucking everything up. I'm sorry for being so addicted to drugs. I'm sorry for mistreating the hell out of you. I'm sorry for everything. And I'm not saying all of this so you'll come running back to me, that's not it at all. I mean of course I'd love to have you back, but that's not what this note is about.
I don't want us to end on a bad note, I actually didn't want us to end at all, but I think the breakup might have been for the better. I love you Maya, and I always will. And I don't ever want you to hate me or be scared of me. I want everything to be ok again, even if that means we're only friends. I love you more than anything else in this world.
-love Robert

Holy fucking shit. Never it my life had words ever hit me that hard.

Something about the way he wrote made me so emotional, tears were threatening to slip out.

Something inside of me missed him so much, more than words could ever describe. I always chose to ignore those longings and just shove them back down into the abyss of my soul.

I thought Robert was right, the breakup was probably for the better, for both of us. But something told me being broken up for too long might do more harm than good.

Maybe he was right that day he called, maybe we should try again.