LMAO I'M SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER
tw: smut at the end of the chapter
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"Bella, Stacey wants to talk to you," Lilli whispered to me during the Fleet Foxes Tiny Desk performance. I looked at her, trying not to be too loud as in to not disturb the performance, but she simply nodded, confirming my prior concerns as to what this could be about.
It was the day after Sam had informed me of his relations with Santana, and I couldn't help but question if this sudden meeting was about the aforementioned boy. I shook the hands of the performers, thanking them for coming before rushing down the stairs to the offices in an anxious hurry.
I showed up at the door of NPRs general manager, Staceys, office. I peered in, gently knocking before entering.
"Hi, Arabella. Please take a seat," She gently smiled, motioning towards the couch. I bit my lip, attempting to remain composed as I sat down.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, meeting her eyes.
"No, I'm afraid not," she sighed, "It's come to my attention that your relations with a band were noted in a live stream. I understand that it wasn't you who mentioned it, and you were quite professional in handling it, however, there's currently a video circulating of you and the band's bassist, Sam Kiszka, arguing at the venue."
I covered my mouth, realizing the potential repercussions of a hit this big.
"Arabella, we all love you here and you are quite simply the best reporter we have, but the video is borderline viral, and it's causing quite a disturbance. Bad press isn't always good. People want you fired, they don't want to see your face again," she bluntly stated.
"I- I don't understand. Who recorded that? Can't they see that it was an argument between the both of us? That it wasn't just my fault?" I quaked, wiping a tear from my cheek.
"Samuels fans aren't going to see him as the bad guy, Arabella. If his groupies see a video of some interviewer yelling at their idol, they're not going to attack him, they're going to attack you."
I nodded, trying to regain composure.
"Right. So what does this mean for me, for my job?" I shakily asked. She inhaled deeply, thinking for a moment.
"I've talked with Gerard and he advises two things; either we demote you to a columnist and see how it goes, or we let you go. It's up to you, really, but we'll give you a month to decide and plan ahead," she concluded.
"Okay... Okay, thank you. I'm sorry this happened. I never meant for Sam and I's personal life to get involved," I apologized.
"It's okay. You couldn't have controlled any of this. I know you, Bella. You're very thorough and I know none of this happened under your control," she said, standing up to hug me, "Go home, get a good night's sleep, and maybe chat with Samuel. I know it's not my place, but you two have a lot to figure out."
I laughed, stifling the heart-wrenching feeling building in the pit of my stomach.
I left the building without another thought, driving straight to the Kiszkas' temporary home in desperate need to yell -no- discuss this with Sam. With tears running down my face, I made my way to the west end of New York, eventually pulling into the driveway of the dreaded boys' mansion.
I took a moment to myself; wiping the tears from my face and breathing as deeply as I could in order to remain calm. I stepped out of my car and made my way to the front door, knocking loudly.
"Bella!" Josh said once he'd opened the door.
"Hey, Joshy. Is Sam home?" I said, forcing a smile. He gave me an odd glance before opening the door for me, letting me inside.
"No, sorry. He and Daniel went out golfing about 15 minutes ago. Is everything okay?" he asked, pouring me a glass of water.
"Yeah, uh, it's fine. I just really needed to talk to him," I assured, covering my false emotion with my water glass.
"Bullshit," he chuckled, "Bella, I've known you for how long? Did you really think that I wasn't going to see right through you?" I sighed, placing my glass down. If I were to confide in anyone, it'd be Josh.
"You're right, I'm sorry. Sam and I had a pretty rough fight yesterday and I just found out that I might lose my job because of him, so even though I didn't know what he could do about it, I figured chatting with him was better than staying angry for reasons he wouldn't even know of," I admitted, following Josh to the couch as he grabbed a bottle of wine.
"I'm sorry, NPR wants to fire you? Why? You're easily the best reporter they have," he assured, pouring the wine into two small glasses.
"Do you remember when Sam and Danny brought up our friendship in the interview?"
He nodded.
"Well, I made it very clear that I'm not allowed to bring personal relations on camera, so they were already pissed about that, and to make matters worse, one of Sam's groupies got a video of him and me fighting outside the venue, and it's blowing up," I told him.
He sighed, downing his drink.
"I'm so sorry, Bella. I don't know what he was thinking tampering with your job like that, but I don't get why they have to fire you over it."
"Bad press. People hate me because I was yelling at him in the video," I explained.
"Okay, but wasn't he yelling at you too?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. People only see what they want to see., I sighed, refilling my cup. The two of us sat there for a moment, both in our own little worlds as we contemplated what I could do.
"Can I ask you something?" Josh blurted.
"Of course."
"What happened yesterday after you, him, and Lilli went out? He was really fucked up for the rest of the night; we couldn't even get him out of his room," he chuckled, filling my cup once more.
"We fought. We were walking back to my car after Lilli had left and I confronted him about why he'd been acting weird all week. Turns out he ditched me to sleep with Santana," I dryly laughed, puffing out air through pursed lips.
"Are you fucking kidding me? So the night of your date, you weren't the girl he brought home?" Josh exclaimed.
I shook my head, letting a tear slide down my cheek.
"My God, he's such an idiot. He rambles on and on about how badly he wants to be with you, and then he fucks his ex-girlfriend? He's so fucking stupid sometimes," I bit my lip when he mentioned that Sam wanted to be with me. The false hope and memories locked inside my chest sat heavy, and I couldn't shake it.
"He's literally ruining my life, and I'm letting him," I sniffled.
Josh pivoted to face me, holding my face between his big hands.
"You don't deserve the shit he's doing to you and, if he's smart, he'll come to his senses. You're too good to let go, Bella," he said, wiping the tears from my face with his thumbs. He kissed my forehead and pulled away, grabbing the wine.
"Do you want mo-" I cut him off with my lips when he finally turned around to face me, allowing myself to fully let go of Sam.
Maybe it was payback, maybe it was an urge I'd had since high school; I didn't know, but I knew I wanted him at that moment.
"Bella, what th-" he attempted to say.
"I want you," I said, cutting him off.
"No, you don't. You're just angry," he sighed, pulling away.
"No, Josh. I've wanted this since high school. I've just been too afraid to say something," I admitted, "but if you're not comfortable with it, we can pretend like nothing happened."
He grabbed my face, kissing me deep and hard like he's wanted to do this for years. We made out for a mere minute, but both of us were too desperate to continue on with the lack of physical touch. He let his hand travel down my body but quickly stopped.
"Bella, are you sure you want this?" he asked between kisses.
"If you do, I most certainly do," I responded, pulling my face away from his.
"Absolutely I want this," laughed, kissing my lips again. He made his way down my neck, gently nipping and sucking as he did so. Once he made it to my chest, he glanced at me, checking if it was okay to pull my shirt down. I nodded and he did just that, tugging the straps of my tank top down from my shoulders as he met my lips again, revealing my bare chest.
"You're perfect," he muttered, making his way back down to my chest again. His fingers found my clothed core, delicately prancing over my clit.
"More, Joshy," I breathed, pushing my hips up to further the pressure on my clit. He pushed down on me with his thumb, his other fingers tugging at the waistband of my skirt until he finally broke contact with my heat, pulling it down and off of me. He rid himself of his shirt and pants, leaving us both half-naked, completely intoxicated by each other.
"No foreplay. I need you now," I whispered, pulling at the elastic of his underwear. He leaned back and pulled off his underwear, as did I, and grabbed a condom from the drawer next to the couch. I quirked an eyebrow at him, silently judging their shared condom stash.
"Our manager leaves them here for us," he chuckled. I nodded, grabbing him by his chain and pulling him back towards me. I rolled over so that I was on top, slowly pumping up and down his length before mounting him and lining him up with my entrance.
"Ready?" He nodded, so I slowly pushed him into me. We both moaned in long-awaited pleasure and I place my hands on his chest, letting my head fall back as I slowly began to move up and down on him.
"Fuck, Bel, feels so good," he mumbled as his hands met my hips, pulling my center forward into him, allowing my clit to hit against his torso. His strong hands moved me back and forth, turning me into a moaning mess.
"God, Joshy," I whined. He sat up a bit, placing one hand behind my neck and reconnecting our lips. He flipped me over and began to fuck me, gently rubbing my clit as he did so. I let my hand find his back, softly scratching and pulling at his curls with the other. I let a moan climb its way out of my throat as h-
"What the fuck?" I heard a voice say from the front door.
Sam's eyes met mine then, and I knew I'd fucked up.