Live Through This/ Liam Gallagher

CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR

We packed quickly, family members lounging around in the other room, looking over everything that the hotel would offer them. I couldn't blame them if I was being honest, as when I first started getting put in nice hotel rooms by management and stuff, it had surprised me.

What I didn't like was my mother watching us pack in our old bedroom. I didn't like her lingering eyes on my clothes, shoes, etc and the judgmental looks I was being given.

"Don't you think you could leave some of that for your sisters?" She asks snarkily

"Why? These are my clothes. I bought them." I ask, not wanting to entertain any of their bullshit.

"Well, it's just you have so much, and do so little for us. Don't you think you could share?"

"We're giving you our hotel room." I say bitterly, continuing to fold items up into my suitcase.

"Avery Pince! You look at your mother right now."

I don't look over and continue packing, wishing Liam would walk out of the bathroom and yell at her or something. Instead, my mother yanks my wrist away from the suitcase and scowls "I didn't my raise my child to be some spoiled druggie piece of shit."

"There's a reason we don't talk."

"We've let you do whatever this is for far too long. We don't get anything! Not even a check or an invitation to your stupid little shows."

"You wouldn't have wanted to come. Stop pretending to care now. You can't cherry-pick when to love your kids, or who to love." I grimace, pulling my hand away.

"How selfish. I bet your other little friends help their parents."

"Yeah. The ones that stuck around and gave them love."

She flips my suitcase off the bed, and lunges towards me, just like she had done years and years before, an all too familiar feeling in my opinion.

Luckily enough for me, Liam's already opened the door and is pushing her away.

"The fuck is going on in here?"

"The ingrate known as my daughter is being selfish again." She seethes, watching as Liam stands in front of me, trying to create a barrier between us.

"She's mad, because I, I don't want to give my clothes to my sisters." I didn't want to stutter but I felt like it was coming back after experiencing what I'd tried burying in my memories for years.

"And you decided to get physical?" He says glaring at my mother.

"Just frustrated. That's all." She goes to pick up the suitcase and Liam tugs it out of her hands, plopping it back on the bed. "You've done enough haven't you?"

He turns around and looks at me worriedly, a slight panic on his face before he pulls me into a tight hug, running a hand up and down my back soothingly.

"You want some money so badly? Take the cash in my wallet. It's on the kitchen counter you bastard."

With that, she exits the room, making her way off to the kitchen I assume.

Liam however, isn't concerned and picks me up, plopping me down on the bed and lays down beside me, running a finger up and down my stomach softly.

"Are you okay?" He asks quietly

I nod my head, staring at the ceiling and say "I cannot wait to get away from these people."

"Not sure how you ever lived with them." He comes closer and places a few kisses on my lips. "You're a beauty Birdie. Every bit of you makes me happy."

"Stop it. You're such a liar." I groan, sitting up, going to start working on my suitcase again, this time Liam helping me organize and toss everything inside of the bag carefully.

"When are we leaving for the airport?" I ask

"Soon enough. Maybe they'll bump us to a private plane. It was so last minute though."

I nod. "I haven't flown in Business in a really long time."

"Don't think I've ever flown in it, always been economy, then first, then private." He chuckles before saying "If we get married don't you need to become a British citizen or some shit?"

"Why?" I ask

"Well we wouldn't be living in America would we?"

He had a point. I was always in England anyways. But I'd never thought of becoming a citizen in another country though.

"You've got a point. When we get back, we can look into it."

"Shit, we've got a lot to do, don't we?" He laughs, zipping my suitcase shut before pulling it off the bed.

There was house selling, house hunting, preparing for my baby, his hookups baby, Lennon and Molly, music to be made and sold, and on top of it all, the thing that had completely slipped my mind.

The idea of a whole ass wedding.

"We still have to plan a wedding don't we?"

"Fuck. Do we really want to do that?" He asks

"Could be fun. Gathering all of our friends."

"We might start a riot doing that Birdie."

"Would be fun."

"Correct."

It was funny to me that the idea of having a wedding had completely slipped by Liam and I both and it was hitting us in a hotel in Paris.

I'd never been one to fantasize about weddings and all that, but it was exciting, especially seeing as I was the bride in this situation.

The last wedding I had been to in fact, was Kurt and Courtney's.

Where it had probably been the most awkward wedding of all time.

Since Krist and his wife Shelly had protested the whole thing and decided not to attend as a way of saying they didn't support the whole ordeal. In fact, I had almost been apart of that group.

But Kurt had managed to convince me to go, and the presence of Dave had convinced me that things would be sane.

No.

It wasn't.

On top of it being on some random beach in Hawaii, Kurt showed up wearing Pajamas and Courtney was in a dead film star's dress.

I did remember liking the woman, that's right they had a female minister, who had ordained the marriage. She was cute. Did a good job too.

I'm getting off track here.

Basically, worst wedding I have ever been to.

Did not want my wedding to turn out like that ever.

"Should I find us a wedding planner?" I ask, reaching for his hand quickly, liking the feeling of our hands colliding.

He nods "Whatever you want Birdie, I'll get it."

This causes me to laugh, and I lay my head on his chest gently, just wanting to enjoy the moment of peace we were finally having.

However,

What we had failed to realize or even notice, was that in the other room, the woman I had once fondly called mother, was doing a bit too much of snooping.

Taking photos that didn't belong to her, and deciding to call and send images to nearly every tabloid number that had wanted secrets and offered money before.