Piledriver Waltz ☆ Alex Turner

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"Yeah yeah. But most of us are hungover," He looked back at Nick and Jamie

"Right, so maybe a night in. D'you wanna come over to mine?" Her's would be perfect, I'd get to talk to her more and her play was great anyway, it was warm and inviting, just like her.

"Yeah, we could do that."

"Great, I'm coming up to my next class so I've got to go. I'll be home around 4:30 ish, Al drove me home last night so if he remembers where my flat is...," I forgot to mention that to Matt and I felt a bit like I was caught red-handed but nobody said anything.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. I can figure out how to get there," I nodded, not daring to look at Matt.
"We should be there around 5:30."

"Cool, so you then, guys!" We all said a quick goodbye before Matt hung up and I turned into the venue. I had a feeling that Matt wanted to say something to me while we started setting up the stage but he didn't seem like he was gonna start anything so I stayed quiet and kept my head turned away from him.

It was a small gig, not many people could fit but I always liked playing small gigs, it was more personal. You got to know the crowd at small gigs. Not that I didn't love big gigs like festivals, they were always fun and loud and enthusiastic, cheering so loud. I started thinking of the song I'd started. She was made of outer space. I leaned against the back of the sofa I was playing around on my electric one and closed my eyes, picturing Charlotte Arabella. Fucking Arabella. Fuck. I can't think of anything but her. She's got my mind and a soul trapped. I started strumming a few cords before reaching over to my notebook and writing down 'Just might have tapped into your mind and soul'.

"What's that?" Jamie asked, changing his shirt.

"Nothing yet," I responded, tapping my pen on the page before turning back to my guitar.

"It sounds good," Nick commented and I nodded along not wanting to say anything, especially with Matt in the room.

"I've got to start working on the new album."

"Eh, 'ave we settled on AM?" Jamie asked.

"Yes, mate," Matt huffed.

"Yes, James, keep up," Nick teased making us laugh. Playing that stage was great but I constantly found myself thinking of Arabella dancing to the songs, her body moving with the beat of the songs. Her murmuring little nonsense last night with the orange light glowing on her face but her lips looking so perfect and so kissable. Her eyes looked at me innocently except for when she'd look at me with playful eyes and a smirk that every look she sent me made me weak. When we played 505, the image of her on a bed in one of my shirts and her hands disappearing under the fabric between her thighs made its way into my brain and I had to turn away from the crowd, swearing to myself. I knew I shouldn't be thinking of her like that, she was just a friend, I'd honestly consider her one of my best friends after only really spending one night talking with each other endlessly, it felt like we'd known each other for years. Not only that but what the fuck would Matt think, he'd probably kill me... Well, maybe not but he'd kill me. He'd kill me. Fuck, I'm just trying to convince myself at this point but she's a family member, practically his little sister, family is off-limits, especially little sisters. And I was right in trying to convince myself that she was off limits because she was, Matt told us after the show when we were changing back into our clothes from before the gig.

"Eh, guys," Matt said out of nowhere in a stricter tone than usual. We looked at each other and then back at Matt as I pulled my shirt over my head. "I hope none of you are trying to get with my little cousin, right?" My eyes widened and Nick snorted, we kinda thought he was joking but he stayed completely stone-faced.
"No, I'm serious," He said and Nick and Jamie stopped giggling. "She's like me little sister and I don't want her dating any rockstars that she's constantly going to be waiting up for to come home when they can't stay out of the pub for more than a week," That was a bit low, he always came to the pubs with us but I knew where he was coming from. His little sister. "'right? She's smart and needs to focus on her own shite, not anybody else's bullshite. She'll 'ave someone who'll stay with her an' follow 'er where ever she decides to live and work. None of our crappy rockstar bullshit of constantly moving around and not being there for her," He turned back to putting a shirt on.