*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐ "But somewhere here in between
the city walls of dying dreams, I think her
death it must be killing me." *ೃ༄
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
they say love's a game of easy come and easy go, but not everybody is Brit...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✩ April 1994
"Mick. You want some?" Alex calls after her from across the table, dragging her out of her conversation with Graham, whom she had grown fond of over the night.
Alex James had cut up a few lines of snow with his drivers license, a hand stretched out towards her, a rolled british pound playing between his fingers. He smiled at her messily, she had lost count of how many times he saw him duck his head down for a line. But she shook her head, "Nah, not really into it."
She wasn't. She had done it a few times over the years she had known her bandmates, but each time she did so, she could her heart pounding out of her chest and followed by an eerily calm silence in which she found rather disturbing than peaceful. None of them ever tried to push her into doing it again, and mostly not Liam – he often catches her staring at him as he brushes the powder off of his nose, and for a second he would seem guilty under her gaze, but later on faltering. He hadn't been sure why he felt a surge of guilt whenever she watched him, maybe it was the embarrassment in knowing that she was in control of her life when he had no grasp of his whatsoever.
But he tells himself that it was because he knew what an arse he would be to her whenever he was under the influence, most of the time when he had both alcohol and coke in his system. And he only assumed that she realises what she then had to endure from him. Liam was always too out of it to maintain his sweet facade with her, stumbling and growing irritated instead. Mostly on the topic of them.
She would tell him and his actions off. And he would call her names which ultimately would receive Liam a slap tight on the face, only making him more outraged. And the two would argue like a couple on the verge of a crumbling marriage. But then the very next day, Liam would come crawling to her side with mustered kisses, his hands grazing her cheeks as he begged Valia to talk to him. She gives in. Every time.
He was much less violent, especially verbally, when he wasn't drinking. Whenever he was, Valia drowns herself in worry over him – also preparing herself for his outbursts. But when all he had was coke, he was silly and touchy. All he could think about was her and he never stopped to hide his admiration for her. It grossed Noel out the most, watching his brother get all worked up and romantic towards the girl he thought of as a little sister.
Graham coughed a laugh from beside Alex, trying to figure something out. "You hang with the Gallaghers and not like cocaine?" They all appeared amused by her response, as if it was one of the most maddest things they had ever heard. Valia Mick, bassist of Oasis – did not like cocaine. It sounded made up, but it only drew her as a further interesting person. The boys knew that once she would leave them that night, they would find themselves in a dive head first into the topic of her.
"You don't see me shagging every pair of tits i see, do you? Clearly they don't have that much on me." She says, once again putting it out there that she had her own mind and didn't need relying on the two boys to create her personality.
