reminder; this is a semi-au meaning that nothing is meant to be accurate, especially real event timelines, 18+
VALLIE
Mumbling voices trickle into my sleeping ears and I scrunch my face in annoyance then flip on my side. My eyes shoot open once my consciousness reminds me that I live alone. My corneas burn at the sudden influx of sunlight and I use my forearm to shield the brightness. Immediately assessing my surroundings, I recognize it's the boys' living room. I'm about to sit up when I hear my name from the kitchen. I pull up the blanket to cover my face a bit and stay completely still to listen.
"I can't believe you pulled that shit with Vallie last night." Scolds a voice I recognize to be Nicholas'.
"Nick you can't be serious. We were drunk." Replies Folio with his distinctive attitude.
"She's our manager." Nicholas clarifies, sternly.
"She's a manager, one of the many we have." Jolly's distinguishable accent chimes in. "But Nicholas is right, we can't act like she's some groupie."
"We can't treat her like some groupie, but Nick can eye-fuck her all night?" Snaps Folio.
My brows furrow at his comment then my eyes widen when the memories of last night flood in and the soreness between my legs confirms my fears.
I slept with Nicholas
Fuck
Nicholas sighs, annoyed, "I wasn't eye-fucking her, you ass, I was being fucking nice."
For some reason it feels like an insult, but I'm not sure why.
"Right." Folio and Jolly reply skeptically at the same time.
"Really, this is your fault Ruffilo." Accuses Folio, "You were the one that suggested a party. What did you think was going to happen with all five of us drunk? With her looking like that?"
"Alright that sounded a little assault-y Nick." Jolly interjects, no doubt accompanied with a glare.
"I didn't mean it like that Joakim, you know that." I can practically hear his eyeroll. "I just meant she's a grown adult too, and she was eye-fucking Nicholas just as much."
My cheeks grow warm at the idea of it being that obvious.
"It doesn't fucking matter who's eye fucking who. Nobody," He pauses, I assume he's pointing at both of them, "Nobody is sleeping with her. The label will have our asses if we fuck this up and you know it."
I hear one of them begin but is interrupted by an overbearing hush and even though I'm not in the room, I feel the tension rise.
"Hey." Squeaks a meek watered-down version of Noah's voice. It flashes the memory of him on the floor with my pinky wrapped around his. A lot of last night is still a blur, but that moment with him on the ground is crystal clear.
The silence is loud as two sets of feet shuffle away, no doubt being Folio and Jolly. There's brief stillness before Nicholas disrupts the quiet, "I can't fucking believe you showed up here like that."
"I know Nick, we don't have to do this." He sounds exhausted.
"'Don't have to do this'? Noah you told me you've been doing better."
"I know, I know."
"Have you been going to meetings?"
Meetings?
Noah is quiet for a long second, "Rehearsals have been kicking my ass Nick." The words slip from him quick, like he'd been holding them in for too long.
Nicholas sighs in disappointment, "Noah."
"And now with this shit now with Valerie, it's too much." Aggravation spikes in his tone around my name.
"Oh my god, can you literally shut up about Vallie." A bit of silence hangs in the air before Nicholas continues, his voice deepens and holds more grit, "She's not this monster you think she is."
"'Vallie' huh? Didn't I hear you call her Val last night too?" Noah slides back into his regular angry inflection. "I was right, you do wanna fuck her."
"You can't be serious with this again. You're being ridiculous."
"Oh, are you sure?" He questions condescendingly, "Because last time I checked, you haven't fucked anything since Alice left."
Alice?
Must be some ex girlfriend I have no business knowing about via eavesdropping.
"You're way out of line." Growls Nicholas with the sound of a heavy boot stepping forward probably backing Noah back into the counter.
"Am I? Because I think you know I'm right. And we both know that you fall for anyone who gives you the time of day." His words are sharp like a blade. There is something sinister tangled in his voice when he's cornered like that, like he's a wounded animal striking out.
"Noah." He warns in a deep rasp from the back of his throat.
"She's just a greedy, corporate, stuck-up bitch from New York," Noah hisses lowly. "The only reason you can't see it is because you're too busy staring at her tits."
The names don't surprise me, I know that's how people perceive me. Sometimes having people be weary of you is more valuable than being loved.
"Well, that 'greedy stuck-up bitch' saved your ass last night. I was ready to leave you on the kitchen floor in your own fucking vomit." Nicholas snarls. "You owe her a thank you and a fucking apology."
The weighty thud of footsteps reverberates throughout the small two-story home as they walked out of the kitchen and into a room behind an aggressively slammed door.
Whoever stayed in the kitchen, who I assumed was Noah, began filling the still house with tiny clanks of dishware and cabinets as he cleaned up.
I weigh my options on how to escape and I ultimately choose to wait 'til the coast is clear because dealing with angsty hungover boys wasn't on my agenda today. It didn't take long for Noah to finish up in the kitchen and departing into his own room. I immediately throw the fleece blanket off me, gather all my belongings and make a straight b-line for the front door.
-
When I finally make it home, I unlock my phone while I sat in my car. There's a text from a new contact named "Nicholas" accompanied with a guitar emoji and a cat emoji. I don't remember swapping numbers with him, but we must've last night at some point.
Nicholas:
"You didn't say goodbye"
For some reason, the little text makes my cheeks burn hot and my stomach tickle with butterflies. It's sweet, like he normally is, but the memory of his dominance trickles heat down to where he left me sore.
I bite into my bottom lip contemplating on how I could respond.
Me:
"How did your number get in my phone?" Accompanied with the raised brow emoji.
Him:
"Magic"
Typing bubble, stop.
Typing bubble, stop.
Typing bubble,
"I hope you had at least a little fun."
I did have fun, maybe too much fun. But it's clear that we're going to just pretend it never happened, which is probably for the best. Though, there is a quiet whispering part of me that wants it to happen again.
Typing bubble, stop.
Typing bubble,
"The guys liked you."
I roll my eyes and want to reply with "except Noah" but I figure with the altercation between them earlier, it's best to leave it alone.
Me:
"I'm glad you think so. I did have fun, thanks for putting it together :)"
I type then delete
Type then delete,
"So, what you up to today?"
I hate myself the minute I hit send. I can't let the flood of butterflies get the best of me, but they're already nestled in the walls of my stomach as I await his reply.
-
It's been about 3 weeks since I saw the guys while I was away dealing with a publicity disaster with my main client.
The entire time I was gone all I could think about was Nicholas...
And the pinky swear with Noah.
I couldn't get them out of my head, and I couldn't figure out why. I hated the way my stomach would flip every time Nicholas texted me. So, I forced myself to ignore him completely unless it was about work. My life is too busy to be worried about butterflies, nonetheless over him. Sleeping with him was a mistake and it's already complicated my job enough.
The minute I landed at LAX, I texted them saying that I wanted to hold a meeting to go over their marketing strategy.
I stroll into the rehearsing studio during the tail end of their set. I chose a short black dress beneath a large coat paired with sheer black tights and knee-high boots – an outfit much too warm for LA. As I walk towards the seating area, I feel eyes on me. My cheeks burn babydoll pink with a small grin that I dug my top teeth into to stop. Each of them acknowledges me with either a head nod or small wave, except Nicholas. Which I take as kind of odd, but I just ignore it.
Not much after that, they wrapped up rehearsal and walked over to meet me. I shouldn't be surprised at the uncomfortable energy between us, but I figured the party had bridged that gap.
They stand in front of me in a semicircle around the high-top round table, looking at me as if they're in detention: annoyed and impatient.
"So, I've done some research into your fanbase." Noah's brow peaked up, the most interested in what I'm about to say. "Your fanbase is strong. But it's small."
"Are you just here to insult us Valerie?" Noah questions, irritated like he has somewhere better to be.
I ignore the usage of my full name, "There's a pretty easy way to gain more fans."
"Well?" Folio presses from the background, "Are you gonna tell us or you just gonna dick around?"
I press my lips flat together and take a moment before I state my solution. My hands fidget with the Apple pencil in my hand, rolling it between my fingers. I know I need to state this firmly and confidently.
"We have to put more focus on Noah."
Noah's face is blank while he processes the words and the other three are getting more offended the longer the words sit in their heads.
"Why." Asked Nicholas in more of a statement than a question.
I debate whether to be truthful or not, to cover it with more jargon about how he's the lead singer, but I choose to be honest. "He's hot."
A jarringly loud silence falls across the space between us. Each of their faces tells a different story. Noah's face is flat with shock it seems, maybe anger beginning to pour in. Jolly seems to have already acknowledged this strategy previously, and as the most mature one, it makes sense. Folio looks like a little kid who is pissed off over someone stealing his toy. And finally, Nicholas looks the most upset out of all of them. His expression is a mix of sadness and anger with his brows downturned to match the edges of his lips.
"The fans think Noah is hot." I clarify, though it was too late. "As well as the rest of you. But he is the lead singer."
"I'm not a part of some boyband Valerie." Noah begins and he narrows his eyes at me, "I want people to like our band for the music, not because they think we're dreamy."
"Why not both." I counter immediately.
"Because – well, because that's just not the band I want." He struggles to come up with a solid reason.
"Girls are what's going to grow your audiences. Male dominated shows aren't going to sell out your concerts and buy all your merch. Your profit margins will always be higher with a female audience." I explain evenly and technically. I find myself avoiding Nicholas' eyes as I speak, something about the way he's looking at me makes my intestines twist like I'd done something wrong.
"Drooling fangirls is not what I want for this band." Noah is stern and defensive in his inflection. The band beside him seem to share the same sentiment.
"Drooling fangirls is where the money is."
"Maybe Noah was right." Nods a pissed off Nicholas, "This was a fucking mistake." And with that he pushes himself from the table and walks straight out the door.
I can't tell if Folio and Jolly are actually upset about it too, maybe it's confusion they feel. Regardless they thumb over their shoulders indicating that they're going to get Nicholas. They scurry from the awkward tension of the room, leaving me alone with Noah. The minute his nearly black eyes reach my own, anxiety spreads through me like spilled ink.
But the fear fades when he opens his mouth. "You really think that would work?" He asks calmly – probably the most normal voice he's ever talked to me with.
Relief washes over me at his words, "Yes absolutely. Sex sells, and you're sexy." I state flatly.
His eyes track me, every slight body gesture. "Maybe we could try it." His voice is laced with apprehension and vulnerability. "We've worked too hard to just now start to get some recognition."
"I thought you didn't want to sell out?" I question, though it's something I shouldn't have asked.
"I don't... I won't. But I want the attention we deserve. We've worked so fucking hard for this." His eyes focus on some spot on the chair behind me, dissociating for a short bit before tracing my eyes again. "Is that something you could do for us? Get us the attention we want without selling out?"
"That's what I'm here to do. I'll try my best to position the strategy to work in a way that keeps the integrity of the band. But once the fans start storming in, controlling the media is an entirely other beast."
"Well, that's what you get paid for isn't it? Handling the media?" He's quick to catch any sort of weakness. It's extremely clear just how serious he is about the band's "look".
"Publicity falls under my umbrella to an extent, yes." For some reason, divulging that information to him makes me nervous.
"Okay." He says shortly and rounds the table to face me directly, "Do your job and do it well and we won't have a problem."
I can tell he meant for those words to intimidate me. "I'll do my job well if you do yours." I offer my hand as some sort of truce.
He looks at my hand, probably shocked that I didn't fold under his weak threat, then meets me in a firm handshake. "I'll do mine if you do yours."
-
I haven't seen the boys in a week or two since the meeting, which I'm grateful for. I wish I could say I regret sleeping with Nicholas – I guess I do to a degree because of work, but I don't really. That was the best sex I've had in a long time, maybe ever. But it made everything so complicated, especially now that he hates me because I called his frontman hot. It seems so childish, I've never been a jealous person, I never understood it. And we just fucked, it's not even like we were together.
Thankfully this next meeting is just going to be me, Noah and the band photographer. I pull up to a random location that Noah sent me and it's just a small, abandoned warehouse in a rural part of the city. I slam the door of my blue Mercedes and the gravel crunches beneath my boots as I walk up the path to the giant open garage style entrance. "Hello?" I call looking around and anxiously smoothing out my blazer.
"In here." Calls a voice I don't recognize from a far corner. I follow the voice and find Noah and another brunette, this one with a beard. Immediately his energy towards me is vastly different than the others. The corners of his lips curl into a charismatic grin and holds out a hand like a gentleman, "Hi I'm Bryan."
I match his energy with a similar smile and shake his hand, "Nice to meet you Bryan. I'm Vallie."
"Vallie." He repeats smoothly, "Such a pretty name."
A slight warmth spreads across my cheeks at the compliment, "Thank you."
Noah is sat at a plastic table in front of a laptop, scrolling through whatever he's working on and Bryan is standing over his shoulder. I pull a plastic chair out and sit across from Noah at the makeshift desk. I look around for a place to set down my bag, but everything including the tabletop is so dirty that I just sit it on my lap.
"So, what's this ridiculous revolutionary idea that Noah says you have?" Bryan asks, using the back of Noah's chair to lean forward against.
I sigh, mentally preparing for an uphill battle. "I said we should focus on him. Like his looks."
"Like a boyband." He confirms.
I nod, "Kind of. Yes."
A grin spreads across his face, "I've been tellin' you Sebastian!" Bryan lightly smacks the back of the long-haired singer. "Because he's sooo dreaaammy." He tangles Noah's brunette locks around his fingers to imitate a fangirl and I bring my hand up to cover a giggle.
Noah rolls his eyes and smacks his arms away, "Don't fuckin' touch me Kirks."
"As you can see, our fearless leader is feeling a little grumpy today." Bryan makes a pouty face over at him. Out of all the boys, Bryan is the only one I'd seen that didn't act like he's below Noah. "I've been telling him that they should lean into that. Whether they actually are attractive or not-" Earning a glare from Noah and chuckle from Bryan, "Doesn't matter. The fangirls will eat it up regardless."
I grinned wide, feeling so relieved that there was someone else that had some sense of how this business works. "Yes, exactly!"
"See, not everyone in Bad Omens is a big grumpy pants who doesn't want money." Bryan says jokingly.
"I don't want the money." Noah says firmly, curling his hand into a fist, without looking up at us from the laptop. "I just...want to do what we do but, better."
"Okay but that's exactly what she's here for."
"Yeah, I know." Noah grumbles under his breath.
"Okay so, what exactly are we doing in a warehouse?" I ask after a crow flies through the opening.
"Well, right now we're just kinda brainstorming." Bryan explains, "We're planning to shoot a music video in here for their latest single."
"For Just Pretend?" I ask and they both look at me like I have two heads.
"You listened to Just Pretend?" Noah inquires with a raised brow.
"Well yeah. You think I take on clients without listening to their discography?" I reply back with the same attitude.
"Right, but you listened to all of it?" He presses.
"Well, I listened to Just Pretend and your latest album, Finding God Before God Finds Me." I press my lips together before speaking again, "Which is a ridiculous name by the way."
Bryan laughs and shakes his head, "She's funny, I like her."
Noah waves away his nonsense and narrows his eyes at me, "You really listened to it?"
"Yeah. I liked it." I answered simply.
"Alright now that your ego's been stroked Noah, can we get started?" Bryan clapped his hands together to get our attention.
-
About an hour into "brainstorming", Noah and I are bickering over every little decision.
"I don't fucking understand why're so pressed about everything." I snap at Noah who is making a big deal about anything I suggest.
"Because you don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Noah retorts back harshly and steps forward to me.
The only intimidating thing about him is his height towering over me, but I'm not about to back down some egotistical lead singer. I mimic him and move forward. "I would go as far to say that I know more than you-"
"Hey hey," Bryan interjects, stabbing his arm through the air between me and Noah. "I'm so fucking sick of hearing you both bicker like little schoolgirls." His funny, goofy personality had been chipped away. "This is ridiculous, you have to get past this. You guys are gonna go do something together – I don't fucking know what, but I know you can't work like this. I can't work like this."
"I'm not doing anything with her." Noah walks backwards with crossed arms.
"Yes, you are." Bryan blocks Noah from my view with his back, "Because I know your bosses and they'll hear about this if you don't fix it." He warns lowly, obviously trying to hush it from me.
Noah steps forward, jabbing a finger into his chest, "Don't fuckin' forget who your boss is." He hissed then brushed passed him, knocking his shoulder back. He paces quickly out through the opening with heavy stomps. I take a short moment to look around the scene and at Bryan who gives me a look that says "do whatever the fuck you want, I don't know". I swiftly throw all my belongings into my large tote and chase after the fuming singer.
I spot him at the end of the gravely driveway, lighting the end of a cigarette. "Hey! Don't leave without me!" I shout after him.
He looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes, "Just go home."
"Fuck, you move fast." I say breathlessly when I catch up to him. "What the fuck do you mean go home? We have shit to do Noah, we're doing it."
"God you're insufferable." He groans and rolls his eyes once more, "Fine." He agrees and takes one more drag of his cig before dropping it on the concrete and stepping on it with the heel of his leather boot. "But we're doing it my way."
//
A/N: Thank you so much if you took the time to read this. This story has received so much love that i didn't expect so thank you🖤
Crossposted on my Bad Omens tumblr -> @/concreteburialplot, if anyone is interested 🖤
P.S....
....new series coming soon
Intertwined; Noah x Nicholas
👀