Everything and Nothing

Chapter Two: Confrontations Are a Bitch

Saturday night.

It had been a very long plane ride from London to Los Angeles, but she knew it would be worth it. Though he didn't live in LA, he often traveled there on vacations.

She was wearing pretty casual clothes because she knew all of Dave Grohl's parties were super casual. He'd never been uptight a day in his life, and he wanted everyone to feel comfortable.

As soon as she stepped through the door she saw him, Violet was beginning to think this was a very bad idea.

Who was she to confront a man like Noel Gallagher, the endless fountain of clever quips and hit songs? He'd demolish her, verbally and socially. If word got out that she was humiliated by him (which it probably would), she'd never live it down. It would be detrimental to her and her band.

There he was.

Noel fucking Gallagher.

He was sitting by Dave's mini bar talking and laughing to Dave himself. Surprisingly, they seemed to get along well, just like she'd seen from the press.

He was wearing a black jacket over a thin grey button-up and blue jeans, his hair combed and styled just like always. A pair of sunglasses were resting on the top of his head, as if he needed them later.

She should turn around and go find Isabell right now. She'd lost her since they split up at the beginning of the party and neither she nor Freddie were anywhere to be seen. Violet knew she should just let it go and disregard everything the Gallagher brother said...but she couldn't.

"Oasis wannabes," He'd called them.

Please.

They were not wannabes.

She felt her legs move towards the mini bar, seemingly all on their own. Oh God. This was such a bad idea. Why did she have to be so hard-headed? Oh no, oh no, oh--

"Violet! Hey, what's up! Glad you could make it!" Exclaimed Dave rising from his seat to wrap Violet into a big massive bear hug.

"Nice...to see...you too...Dave." She wheezed, trying to get in air as he squeezed her relentlessly. He released her with a pearly white smile as he tucked a stray black hair out of his face. Violet had always loved his happy demeanor; he had always been so energetic and kind.

"I heard about your Wembley gig! Everyone said you did amazing!"

"Thanks, I think we did too!" Said Violet, looking pointedly at Noel who simply stared back, taking a swig of beer. He was watching her, carefully, intently, like he was sizing her up.

Dave, who caught her look, turned around and pointed to Noel. "Oh, and this, as you probably know is Noel. Noel Gallagher."

It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes. "I know who he is."

"Oh I see," he said. "Well, um, Noel, this is--"

"--Violet Hemingway," Interrupted Noel, never breaking eye contact with her. "I know exactly who she is."

Her heart stopped. He knew who she was? She knew that he'd heard of her band, that was obvious, but he actually recognized her, knew who she was. He smirked at her when he saw how taken aback she was, so she glared in response, silently wishing she could make his head explode and make that infuriating little smile wipe off his face.

Poor Dave, sensing some tension between the two, laughed nervously. "Um, well, I'm just gonna...go check on everyone else." He shuffled off, disappearing into the crowd, leaving the both of them at the bar. Alone.

She stood there for a moment still glaring at the Manchester musician until he took another sip of beer and said, "Are ya just gonna stand there all night and look at me, or are ya gonna sit or summat? I know I'm a good-lookin' bastard, but Jesus Christ, at least make an effort to not be so obvious."

Violet's mouth dropped. THE NERVE.

"I don't think you're in any position to tell me what to do, Gallagher." She said, crossing her arms. "Besides, I wouldn't think you'd want a so-called 'Oasis Wannabe' sitting next to you."

"Ya saw what I said about yer band." He wasn't asking a question, it was a statement. He knew as well as she did that every time he opened his mouth, reporters were eager to record it and post it. Despite his cocky attitude, people listened to him.

"You bet your ass I did. And you're fucking wrong." She replied.

"Am I, sweetheart?"

"Yes, you fucking are. We are NOT wannabes. We're a damn good band, no matter what you think."

He was quiet for a moment, but then he chuckled, confusing Violet.

"What's so funny?" She asked, her blood starting to boil. Just what was he playing at?

"Oh, nothin'."

"No, tell me."

He looked at her, a mischievous look in his eye. "Beautiful and cheeky. I like it."

Beautiful. Did he just...call her beautiful? Heat rose to her cheeks as she cursed herself inwardly. She was being weak, letting him take her by surprise like that.

"You've gotta a lot of nerve, you prick."

"Oh don't act like you ain't flattered."

"As if I'd be flattered by an obnoxious jerk like you."

He was close to her, very close. In all the excitement, she hadn't realized that he had stood up. Noel was taller than her by a good four inches or so and his icy blue eyes were staring straight into hers, seemingly into her soul. "So ya weren't pleased with what I said?" He asked.

Under his intense gaze, Violet found it hard to speak, hard to breathe, for that matter. "...No..." She managed to say.

He leaned closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Well then...what're you gonna do about it, Hemingway?"

What was she going to do?

Honestly, she had no idea. She couldn't move; it was like he paralyzed her.

With a satisfied look his face, he leaned back. "You Americans are all the same. All bark, no bite."

He was toying with her, all while managing to keep that stupid smirk. Violet turned to leave; she'd been humiliated enough.

"Wait, hang on a minute. Where ya goin'?" She heard him ask from behind.

"Away from you." She replied, starting to walk away.

His hand caught her wrist. Not tight, but firm. His hand was warm. "But it was just gettin' fun."

She jerked her arm away from him. "Leave me alone."

Violet then started to walk away again, but he blocked her path. "Wait, wait, wait. Come on, humor me."

"What do you want?"

"I wanna see ya again."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be in Los Angeles for a couple more days, and I wanna see ya again before I go."

"Seriously?" She asked.

"Seriously."

She sighed. "Alright, fine." She dug through her purse trying to find a piece of paper. When she found none, she took his hand and scribbled her phone number on his palm.

"We'll be in touch, Hemingway." He said as he walked away, leaving her to stare after him.