Chapter 2

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I was dressed up, dark jeans, a checkered shirt, a black leather jacket and boots. I'd put my long, black hair up with a red bandana. Enzo thought I was hanging out with Bex but I was sat outside a restaurant beginning to think I'd been stood up.

I didn't know why I'd called. I didn't know why I'd agreed to this. I didn't know what the hell I was doing.

A few checks of my watch, followed by looking up and down the street, a taxi pulled up in front of me. I immediately recognised the passenger as he got out. He wore dark trainers, jeans and was covered by a green parka.

"Baby Lennon!" I stood up to greet him.

"Haileigh." he kissed my cheek and led me into the restaurant.

...

He ordered our drinks and we were taken to our table.

"Good to see you again." I spoke after we'd sat down.

"Yeah, didn't think you'd call." He passed me a menu and started reading his.

Me neither. "Why'd you give me the number then?"

"You gotta try. You want something, you gotta make it happen." he said inspirationally, sounded like it was song lyrics.

He concentrated on the menu and then looked at me. "You're not one of those vegetarian weirdos, are you?"

"Bit unnecessarily mean but no, no I'm not." I shook my head, although I'd been very tempted by one of the few vegetarian options.

...

Liam took my left hand while we were waiting for the main course. "You're married."

"Yeah."

"What's a married woman doing on a date?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"I'm on a night out with a new friend, not a date." I corrected.

He looked around. "Nice restaurant, we're dressed smart, you look hot by the way. I'm holding your hand. It's a date."

"So, what was that gig about at the record shop?" I asked deciding not to argue.

"Didn't you play the CD or did my cheapo brother take it back?"

I hadn't even thought to listen to it. "I've got it but no I didn't listen, it's really not my thing."

"How d'you know if you've not listened?" Good point.

"You look like a nice little rock n roll band from about twenty years ago on the cover, I'm not into that." I explained.

"No tattoos, no metal all over us faces, no goth shit so you're not interested."

I rolled my eyes, people were always making that kind of assumption about me. "If you're going to stereotype someone for how they look, you should try doing it while looking a little less like you're obsessed with the Beatles."

He grinned, "We are obsessed with the Beatles though, they're fucking awesome."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that." I said, knowing it would wind him up.

He have me a look like I'd insulted everything he ever loved and was deeply offended, completely and utterly offended.

"I'm just saying they're old now and people are into nostalgic hype." I shrugged nonchalantly, I just wasn't bothered about the band.

He still looked like he was considering flipping the table and storming out. "Have you actually fucking heard their shit, though?"

"Yeah..." Luckily I was cut off by the waiter arriving with out food.

Our dinners were served and we ate as we continued to chat.

"What d'you do then?" he asked, abandoning the Beatles inquisition.

"I'm a tattoo artist. Travis and Bex own a shop, the group I was with at the bar the other day work there." I explained. "You?"

"You really don't know, do you?" he chuckled.

I shook my head. "Nope, sorry."

"I'm in the biggest band in the world." he told me with absolute certainty.

I was tempted to ask it that included being bigger than the Beatles. "How can you be on your debut album?"

He shrugged. "We're number one, the charts don't fucking lie."

"Congratulations, I guess." In my opinion the charts lied all the time, to me they weren't a mark of quality, there were tons of bands I loved that would never get a look in.

"Thanks." he nodded. "You stayed for the whole gig, just admit it. You like us."

"You can sing, there's no denying that." I wasn't going to flatter his ego but I wasn't going to lie either.

He grinned. "I know."

"I suppose, based on the gig, your band are good, for a Britpop band..."

He waved those words away. "We're not fucking Britpop, Britpop's shite."

...

"D'you want dessert back at mine?" he asked when he was about done with his main.

I rolled my eyes and glared at him. "I'm married."

"I meant chocolate cake and ice cream." he said innocently.

I gave him another look, we both knew perfectly well that wasn't the dessert he was talking about.

"Why'd you ring me then?" he asked, confused.

"Fancied a night out with someone new." I told him. "If that's what you want, go call a groupie. Your brother informed me you have plenty."

"Noel's an idiot, he don't know what he's fucking talking about." he insisted. "If I wanted a groupie I wouldn't be putting in the fucking effort in."

"It's gonna take a lot more than dinner to win me over Gallagher." I didn't know what I wanted from him but it wasn't a quick, cheap one night stand.

"Alright, when can I see you again?"

"Who says I want to?"

He smirked, knowing I was being difficult. "You want winning over, we have to meet again for that, even I can't do it long distance."

"I've got your number, maybe I'll call you again." I teased.

He told me when he'd be back off the tour. It was going to be months before I could see him again.

...

When I had some time alone I listened to the CD expecting to think it was rubbish. It wasn't. I was immediately hooked by Rock n Roll Star and I was more and more awed by each song. Oasis weren't bad for a Britpop band.

Of course I wasn't going to tell them that.

I wrote the date he told me he'd be back in the country on his note and hid the album again. He was on tour, I had to put him out of my mind.

Japan, America, France, Sweden, Germany and England again. December 13th, Oasis had a gig at The Hammersmith Palais. I kept seeing it's advertising, every day.

Somehow Enzo hadn't realised I'd been thinking about another man for months. I loved Enzo so much but Liam had taken over my mind and far too fast.


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