My Coldplay Story

Up In Flames

Heyy,
God, I hate it when people criticize me for writing this. Whatever. I like to write and I like Coldplay. *Sorry for my rant. I won't rant again*. So anyway! If you are the very miniscule number of people (coldplayers or not) that like my story, fan! Vote! Comment! Promote! Btw, this is dedicated to @pookydancer123 for giving me the idea! Thanks so much!
Gracias amigos, AspiringAuthor101
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 Up In Flames Lyrics:

So it's over
This time, I know, it's gone
Saw a Border,
Tasted it too long
I only know one role
Now I know it's gone

Up in flames
Up in flames
Up in flames
We have slowly gone

So it's over
This time, you're flying on
This time, I know no song
Can't stop it slowly go
Can't stop it slowly go

Up in flames
Up in flames
Up in flames
We have slowly gone

Up in flames
Up in flames
Up in flames

We have slowly gone
Oh, we have slowly gone
Can we pour some water on?
*****

-Iris's POV- 

     I stare at the flickering fire dancing right before my emerald eyes. Jonny, Guy, and Will are all sprawled out across the floor staring at the fire with me as I sit crossed legged on the rug. I could feel the flames hurtling towards me. Chris went out to get the mail, making everything quiet. I have developed good relationships with the band, except we aren't as close as Chris and I. Whenever I spark up a conversation, it ends rather quickly. In addition, there are long awkward pauses you would find when someone forgot to say something in a speech. 

     "So, how is everything going?" I try to start a conversation. 

Unfortunately, nobody pays attention. They continue to stare at the glimmering light coming from the brick fireplace. It is so silent, you can hear a pin drop. 

     Finally, Chris unlocks the brown, wooden door and walks in dressed in his "hobo attire". I've always made fun of Chris for his clothing. It mainly consists of long trench-coats, skinny jeans, and a graphic t-shirt that hasn't been washed in over decades. I raise an eyebrow and he starts howling hysterically.

     "You dislike my sense of style. Do you?" Chris attempts to walk like a model while tripping over his black shoelaces. 

      "I don't dislike it. I just think it is heinous." I say honestly.

Chris chuckles and takes out the stack of mail from under his arm.

     "Jonny, me, Guy, me, Will, Jonny, Will..." He reads out the names of the people who have received a letter. "Guy, Will, and... Iris." He hands out a neatly folded, crinkled, tan envelope to me.

He winks and points to the broken hearts that are doodled all over the back and front of the mail. I roll my eyes in disgust. I rip open the letter and soon I have a crowded mess of four sweaty guys surrounding me. I take out the paper and unfold it. I read the name at the top and I can't bare to look at it any longer. 

I knew it. It was Axel.

I read the letter in my head so that there is no trouble involved between Coldplay and the letter. I would rather just read this to myself and then throw this damn paper into the fire.

     My Beloved Iris,
     Forgive me for everything that happened in the past. It was just a phase, and I was insecure. I shouldn't of done that. It was wrong and I knew it, but yet I continued along because I didn't think you would suspect. 
But yet, you found out a day later.  and I am deeply sorry.
Please, I'm begging you, let's start over and live our lives just like we used to, happy, joyful, and not a care in the world about what other people thought. I liked that, and I know for a fact that you did too.
     I just want you to know that I ended my relationship with Elaine, hoping that I could reunite with you. You probably hate me right now—