Don't Let Go (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction) COMPLETE

The Penthouse

I had accepted Oli's offer to go back to his house and I was now standing in front of the venue with him and his friends. As I stood there, I realized how surreal the situation was. I didn't feel uncomfortable or unsafe, but I did feel a bit out of place. All of the guys had their arms around their girlfriends and then there was me, standing with Micky, Oli, and his brother. Oli looked like he was falling asleep standing up, and Tom was on the phone. I stood there and realized how much trust they, or at least Oli, must have had in me to be inviting me to his house. I mean, they were famous, and I could have been anyone.

As I stood there thinking about it, a mini van pulled up and everyone piled in. There was about 10 of us and it was hilarious trying to get everyone in, sat down and buckled up. I was sat next to Dani who fell asleep on my shoulder, rather than her boyfriends' on the opposite side. The ride was hilarious with most of the van singing Happy Birthday and waving to other cars whenever we stopped at a set of traffic lights. When we arrived at the building, which was only half a dozen blocks from the bar, I realised this was no ordinary house, it was an apartment building. Tom keyed us in and we all piled into a lift to the 12th floor. When the door opened, everyone fell out into what was a massive, two-level, 5 bedroom penthouse apartment. I stopped in my tracks and just stared, thinking about my shoebox back in Hendon. Some out the guys headed straight to the deck with drinks and some headed straight for the showers and beds I assumed. Oli went straight to the fridge and drank almost two liters of water. I wandered over to a couch and sat down, just staring out at the view of the Thames that was in front of me. I eventually took my shoes off and relaxed back on the couch, looking at my phone. I had no idea where I should go or what I should do, since it seemed like everyone has pretty well retreated to bed.

Even though I don't get starstruck, it was kind of weird when I saw a photo that Oli had posted earlier in the night to Instagram with 100,000 likes. Like here he was, just a few meters from me, standing in the kitchen with his shirt off, drinking water like it's going out of fashion. I actually forget that he's famous because he acts so normal. I started thinking again about how strange the situation was, considering I could be anyone... I could post photos or make up rumours or anything. My train of thought was interrupted when Oli crash landed onto the couch beside me with a little laugh. He seemed a bit more sober as we chatted and time went on. It was almost 40 minutes later when he finally showed me where his bedroom was. I felt a little weird following him up the stairs, knowing I was going to his bedroom. A tiny bit of doubt crept into my mind as to whether this was all part of some plan.
"Sorry it's a bit of a mess." he said, quickly throwing some clothes from the bed onto the floor. "If you want to borrow anything, go ahead." he said, scratching the back of his head before walking over to point out he bathroom.
"Thank you." I said. He picked up a pillow from the bed and awkwardly said that he would be in the lounge if I wanted to hang out, you know, incase I wasn't tired. I told him I'd take a shower and be down in a bit.

As soon as he left the room, I felt weird. I realized that I was in a guys room... and that I was going to take a shower and have to use his things. I was also going to have to borrow his clothes. I had definitely not been in a situation like this outside of a relationship before.

I stood there and just looked around. There wasn't really any personal effects in the room apart from clothes and shoes, but it was apparent that I was in his room. I walked to the cupboard and pulled open a draw. Oh christ. Underwear. I shut it as quickly as I could and opened the one below it. Right. T-shirts. Was it weird to borrow one of his shirts? I mean, I hardly knew him and he hardly knew me. Sleeping in a a lace dress definitely wasn't ideal, but wearing his clothes seemed like a breach of privacy. I decided that while it was a little weird, borrowing a shirt was better than being bound in itchy, skin tight lace all night, so I grabbed the first shirt from the drawer and I smelt it to check it was clean. Tick. I unfolded it and saw that it read 'Black Sabbath' which was funny since I had a similar Black Sabbath shirt at home. Even though I would say he's almost the same shirt size as me, luckily it was a men's cut so was a little longer than I usually wear. In saying that, it was only just long enough to cover me, and I was wearing a g-string that didn't leave a lot to the imagination. I had a quick shower, using tissues and -eugh - body wash to take my makeup off, and I sprayed on some of his deodorant. I chuckled to myself since I now smelt like a man, though it actually smelt really good.