I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys Fanfiction) UPDATED VERSION

39 | Matt's Vlogs

The picture was slightly cracked, colors dulled, lines filtering over the screen. Matt was shakily moving the camera in the hotel with the lens focused on Alex. The room had diluted red wallpaper, faded black sheets that he sat on the floor in front of near the foot of the bed. The camera moved until it was right beside him, and I saw a flash of Matt's jeans in the corner of the picture as he sat down. "Shit, Al. You look horrid."

The camera moved down for a second while Matt opened a beer—pretty amateur filming, I thought lightly to myself—and quickly backed up to Alex. I got a shot of the two empty wine bottles and pack of beer cans scattered around the floor. It's hard to hear Alex's voice on the recording. He was staring at his feet. "I know."

Matt's sipping was loud in the background. "We got to get you cleaned up, mate. Let's head out tonight. Wanna take a shower?"

Alex rested his head between his hands. The video cut out for a second and came back, and he had his knees curled to his chest. "I met her when she was in the shower," he groaned.

Matt sighed and stood up again, panning the camera to the hotel phone. It was ringing. I saw Matt's hand press 1 and pulled the receiver right beside the video camera so I could hear the whole conversation. The phone knocked against the lens, turning the screen black, but I still could hear everything perfectly fine.

The voice coming from the phone, I knew, was Arielle. "Alex, is that you?"

"Nope. And he's not here right now, so fuck off."

"I'll just call back later, Matt."

"No, you won't. You might have broken him. It's not right. You've not only ruined your relationship with Al, but his newer one too. Leave him alone."

"I swear if you don't put him on the phone I will release those contracts—"

Matt laughed. "Contracts? Now you're just bluffing. Collin shredded those. If you haven't done it by now, you never will. You're nothing but a coward."

Dial tone. Matt's fingers put down the phone. "So day one vlogs is going great," he mumbled to the camera.

I heard Nick in the distance talking to Alex. His voice was low and hard to hear while Matt sipped his beer. "I'm not nagging anymore, since you told me you didn't like that," Nick was saying, "in my humble opinion however, I think you need to stop moping around and find a way to talk to Leah about this already."

The video stopped, and present Matt clicked on the next one. It was a short clip. He had the camera tiled sideways in his lap as if he didn't want it to be spotted.

Collin had clapped his hands together. "I know you guys are still upset about Leah, but you're in a band, and you need to act like it. I can't have you all quitting on me now! We've done what we set out to do. Leah was just a hiccup in our success. Let's just move on and practice for the next gig in Oregon."

I heard a chair slide out in the background and Jamie's voice. "We can't move on! I'm sick of this. You need to learn when to be our manager and when to be our fookin' friend."

Nick's voice was soft off-screen. "I'm flying out with Kelly in the morning. Been thinking about it for a while. Cancel the gig."

Alex stood up, and in the corner I could see him putting on his jacket. His eyes were sore and puffy. "This arrangement hasn't been working for me for a while. If we can't get rid of you, we're going on break. Don't call me until you've gotten your shit sorted out."

Matt snorted and then the video ended. The last one played next.

It started out in the back of the hotel room, silent for a full thirty seconds and still. Matt must not have been in the room. It showed a hotel desk against the wall far away and a small brown lamp flickering in the corner. The room was dark and hard to register on screen.

I saw Alex shuffle on the picture, kicking at the carpet with the same socks he wore on Halloween. Looked a little thinner. Then he sat down with his back turned to the screen and started to write, pen on paper. A lot of the things he wrote ended up tossed on the floor.

Then the screen went to complete darkness. Time skipped and Alex was out of the room and Matt was picking the camera off the bedside table and carrying it shakily to the desk. He zoomed in on the finished letter, mumbling something under his breath. It was in extremely neat handwriting.

Dear Leah,

Ever since the day I stumbled across you in the shower in our hotel room, I could not forget in which the way you had looked. Despite the horror in which your delicate face read, it was amusing to me, and now as such is the memory of that amusement, which does trickle through my mind quite often. More than I'd prefer to admit, actually.

I hate to see you gone like this. I don't care about any plan, I don't care that any attempt is useless; I have to try because the only thing I'm living off of is the slightest chance you still think about me. There has not been a single moment that's passed that I haven't regretted that night. I could never deserve you, Leah, my love, but I'm a greedy bastard that will try in whichever way he can so that he may kiss your lips one last time.

If I had knew our last time was the last, I would've spent hours memorizing the way you moved, the way you laughed, and the lights that sparked in your emerald eyes; spent hours keeping your taste on my lips.

I wanna be yours. And I wish that I was.

Alex