Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Seven

A loud snort escaped Lewis' lips, "I like you."

"Why are yer taking her side?!" I protested.

"Cause my side's the reasonable one," she sneered before turning back to Lewis. "This fuckin' doylem didn't tell Rory he was releasing a song about her and then acted like a complete nob to her after one too many 'cause he was jealous."

"Areet," I grumbled. "Ya don't need to keep reminding us like, I know I fucked up."

"Clearly I ain't reminded yer enough," she scowled.

"What did you say to her?" Lewis inquired, a frown forming on his face.

My face burned in embarrassment as I recalled the moment, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly. "Er, that Finley was no good for her," I cringed.

Lewis' nose scrunched up. "Fuck's sake, mate," he groaned.

"I know, I know," I sighed.

"We've all had this conversation with him, don't worry," Tom chuckled humourlessly. He was notoriously overprotective of Rory as much as he was of Heidi and I hadn't heard the end of it when he found out.

"Rory put him straight either way," Jess shrugged, unbothered by the way I winced at the memory.

"I wouldn't expect anything less, she's a fucking spitfire that lass," Lewis grinned. "Sorry, pal. Just saying it how it is."

I laughed humourlessly, "Believe me, I know how much of a spitfire she is." My eyes flickered over to the girl in question, who had already gotten hers and Lewis' drinks but had been pulled into a conversation with one of the regulars, a genuine smile painted on her lips. "It's one of the reasons I fell in love with her."

"Yer need to grow a pair and just apologise to her!" Dean groaned loudly.

"Aye," Joe agreed. "Then yer can tell her that you're still madly in love with her."

"Fuck off," I scowled.

"Sam, every time yer look at her, it's like there's stars in your eyes," Jess huffed. "You're still in love with her and that's alreet. But yer can't keep tiptoeing around her like you're not. Grow a pair and tell her or move on."

"I can't tell her," I frowned, my gaze remaining on her as I spoke. "It's not fair on her. She deserves someone who'll treat her reet. Yous heard her, I treated her like shit. I missed my chance." My lips drew together in a tight line as my heart cracked slightly. "I just want her to be happy."

"That's admirable," Lewis commented whilst patting my back lightly.

"It's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is," Harlow growled.

"What's stupid?" Rory asked with a soft smile, placing the two drinks held in her grasp down on the table and sitting down.

"Sam," she hissed. "Sam's fuckin' stupid."

Rory groaned, throwing her head backwards at her best friend's words. "I thought yous were getting along now," she huffed.

"With this cunt? Nee way!" she gaped.

"Charming," I grumbled under my breath as I stole another few sips from my drink.

"Kids, now, now," Rory smirked, rolling her eyes fondly at the two of us.

Although there was a thick tension between the two of us, the laid-back persona she was settling into with me gave me hope that things would be okay. Maybe not right now but soon. Then again, Rory was always the forgiving type. Even with those who didn't deserve it.

Me.

"Er, can I talk to yer for a minute, Rora?" I asked nervously, chewing on my nails to alleviate my anxiety. It didn't help.

"Uh, yeah," she agreed as she pushed herself to stand once more and followed me outside. "What's up?"

I shoved my hands into my pocket and rocked on the balls of my feet as I tried to produce a coherent sentence. "Er, I wanted to apologise," I admitted. "About what I said. It was a dick move from me and I'm sorry."

"It's alreet, Sam," she whispered softly.

"No, it's not," I sighed, running a hand over my face, coming to a pause at my jaw and rubbing it out of stress. "I shouldn't have said it, especially not after the shit I put yer through-"

"Sam," she interjected but I cut her off quickly.

"I'm not trying to make any excuses but it was a rough day and I had one too many," I mumbled, averting my eyes to the floor to avoid her sympathetic gaze. I didn't deserve her sympathy. "Uh, the label wants a second album. Like now. They're threatening to drop me if I don't give 'em one soon."

"Shit, I'm sorry," she frowned, reaching out to hold my arm and squeezing it in reassurance.

"It's not your fault," I laughed weakly. "I've got some stuff, I just dunna if I'm comfortable sharing it with the world. It's very... raw."

"Don't let them pressure yer into anything, areet?" she told me sternly. "If you're not comfortable, then you're not comfortable. Everything's gan work oot."

"What if it don't?" I croaked. "I feel like I've given everything to get here and I don't know how I'm gan cope if it all gets taken away."

"I've got no doubt ya'll figure sommat oot, Sam," she smiled softly. 

"I wish I had your optimism, Scarl," I grinned lightly.

"You're gan be fine, areet?" she huffed. "Ceemon, let's gan enjoy your birthday, this ain't worth stressing about."

I was silent for a moment before speaking up, "I'm sorry... again. I never want you to be upset and I hate that I'm the reason for it. You're my best friend, I want yer to be happy."

"I know," she nodded. "I'll be happy again if the next round's on yer."

"Anything for yer, princess," I teased as I reached out to ruffle her blonde locks.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she giggled, bumping her shoulder against mine playfully but there was a flicker of something in her eyes that I couldn't quite identify.