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modernmanblues · 4 days ago

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chances

CH 7: THE LESS KNOWN THE BETTER

plot: American photographer Leah Walker is ecstatic when she’s presented with the opportunity to spend the summer of 1975 in Stockport, UK to take photographs of local English groups. Given her history of taking photos of big acts such as The Rolling Stones and The Doors, she is taken by surprise when told that her first clients will be the up and coming Manchester-based group, 10cc, who have kept a low-profile until recently, after gaining worldwide stardom from their hit I’m Not In Love. Leah knows little about the group and gets acquainted fairly quickly, but what she doesn’t know is how much trouble she’s about to get herself into with the group’s beloved lead guitarist, Eric Stewart. She has all summer, come to think of it. The possibilities are endless

themes: ⚠️NSFW⚠️, passionate kissing, Pink Floyd (smut?), civil conflict between rival band members, consumption of illicit substances (quaaludes), Eric Stewart being a real wanker (for a minute), Leah’s friendly encounter with Eric’s ex-spouse, Hammersmith Odeon (1975 baby!)

a/n: I love Eric Michael Stewart with all my bloody heart, and that’s all there is to say about that.

“I fucking want you..I fucking want all of you..forever..if possible…”

August 22, 1975. London Hilton Hotel. Time is approximately 6:30 am.

The warmth radiating from the early morning sun caresses my cheek, I moan in mild agony as I bring myself to sit up on the bed, leaning back as I place my entire weight on my arm to hold myself up. The struggle to keep my eyes open has presented itself an undesirable chore, especially in these last few days. As I come to my senses, and allow myself to dissolve from this dazed and confused state, I am reminded of my priorities of the day. Time to seize the day once again, Leah Jeanne Walker. You’re in bloody London, stop wasting time!

I must do my due diligence to not waste any time. My mind is racing, in its usual course, as a side effect of my responsibilities as a session photographer. One moment I’m here, and the next I’m there. I am a busy working bee, and I would like to keep it that way to protect myself from diversion from what is most important in my life at the moment. Diversion is the very thing I would like to avoid at all cost. Diversion is the very thing that could get me into trouble if ever I succumb to it.

My definition of diversion at this point in my life are the perpetually vexatious and intrusive thoughts that I continue to have about Eric Stewart, the so-called bonafide and excruciatingly attractive guitarist of this darling group of rock ‘n’ roll known as 10cc, whom I have been well-acquainted with as of recent. The depravity of these thoughts is the source of my ongoing frustration and, as I mentioned, diversion from matters at hand that are more important like—For chrissake, Leah! Would you stop daydreaming about that degenerate and get in the shower. You’ve got a photo session with Pink Floyd in a couple hours. PINK FUCKING FLOYD!! I’d like to thank my conscience for helping me be reasonable and logical during times like these.

I hoist myself and make my way steadily towards the bathroom. I proceed to turn on the shower knob and adjust the water temperature to my liking. As I allow the water to run from the shower head, I mentally recap the events that unfolded a few weeks ago, the last time I had any contact with Eric Stewart or any of the members of 10cc. I strip off my garments daintily and step into the shower, dousing myself under the warm water spouting from the shower head. My thoughts are drifting once again, and I find myself engrossed in the unnecessary reminiscing of the abomination that had occurred on one particular day.

It was a few weeks ago that I was asked to collaborate with Shannon Fischer, editor and rock critic for Creem magazine, an American-based entertainment firm specializing in the endorsement of contemporary rock bands. I had been in my element taking photos of the boys and when all was said and done, disaster struck.

I assumed my seat next to Kevin, Lol and Graham. We watched and listened to Eric as he was last to be interviewed. Shannon proceeded with the queries.

“So Eric, you’ve spoken highly about the work that you and the guys do here at Strawberry and I think there’s a lot of beauty behind the craftsmanship of a musician. Tell me, what in your opinion defines beauty?”

Myself and the rest of the boys turned our attention to Eric, eager to hear his response.

Eric chuckled, exuding his typical pompous attitude.

“Shannon, my dear…first of all, I’d like to thank you for being patient with each of us here and being so thoughtful with every question. But your question for me is a real chartbuster. I really don’t know how to answer it thoughtfully, and in a way that will present itself as noncontroversial in your column—”

Eric paused briefly to collect his thoughts and proceeded to supplement his response. I noticed how he was seemingly charmed by this woman, he hadn’t peeled his gaze off her.

“But anyway, to answer your question simply, beauty…and I mean real beauty, by definition, is woman. Woman is beauty. Beauty is woman. Simple as that.”

What a strange response, and quite vague in my opinion. What’s he on about? I thought.

Shannon let out a stifled giggle, gushing at Eric’s response. I want to roll my eyes at this absurdity.

“Perfect answer, Eric. It sounds like a certain woman is, perhaps, the main driving force behind the songs that you write. Would you agree with that?”

Eric furrows his brows in wonder, understandably, on how to tackle this question. He produces a response.

“Not particularly, no.”

A slight pang of despair jabbed me in the chest, knowing that he and I have spent so much time getting to know each other this summer, and even sharing some rather, dare I say, borderline intimate moments together. Just a couple days prior, he had taken me by surprise when he kissed me, passionately, and I was foolish to have surrendered to, what I fear, was an act of lust. That day, he’d been acting odd towards me, almost dismissing me as a stranger. His response served as a testament.

But this is how Eric is, as I have come to know him. He is never black or white, there is always a gray area with him. The truth of the matter is that Eric Stewart, although shrewd at best, doesn’t necessarily know what the fuck he wants.

The next thing that came out of his mouth made my stomach churn and I couldn’t bear another sight of him after that.

“But you know, Shannon, the role of that driving force you just mentioned is still waiting to be filled.” His eyes glistened as he studied her with his eyes.

“Oh? And what do you mean by that, Eric?”

“I mean, that driving force really, could be anyone in this room. Could be you.” He smirked, grossly proud of himself.

“I think I like you, Shannon.” Eric purred at the woman, resting his hand on her thigh.

He thinks he likes her? Boy, he gets around, doesn’t he? He’s probably the most intolerable human I know. God, get me out of here please.

Shannon hooked two fingers over her mouth to stifle her giggling. She just couldn’t help but gush all over him as she had throughout this ridiculous banter. This thematic performance was making me sick to my stomach, I couldn’t sit through another minute of this.

I shot up from my seat and marched towards the front door, my fury grossly apparent in the loud clomping of my platforms. I exited gracefully, closing the door with gentle ease behind me. Prior to making a proper departure, I inhaled deeply, taking in every ounce of fresh English air that had entered my lungs, then releasing my breath slowly, expelling with it all my angst and fiendish intentions.

I began to make my stride towards the familiar path that led me home, it wasn’t long before I reached the street corner, but just before I could make my usual turn, I was halted by a familiar voice squeaking from behind me.

“Leah! Wait!” I heard footsteps running heavily towards me, which made me turn immediately.

To my consolation, I was warmly greeted by a face that was most comforting to me at a time when I was heavy with anguish.

“Lol! Oh my…are you alright?” I furrowed my brows at him, searching for his eyes.

“I’m…fine…erm..” He gasped for air in between words.

“Girl…you run…fast. Slow down next time, please.” He chuckled, seemingly pleading with his words.

“Sorry, Lol. I have long legs…unlike yours.” I stifled a giggle.

“You know what...” He waved a finger at me as if he was to provide me a lecture.

“What’s up, Lol?” Instincts told me he had something important to tell me.

He sighed before producing a response.

“Just wanted to know why you left us…so abruptly.” His wide, coffee brown eyes peered at me with bewilderment.

I stood briefly in silence and sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair, then glided them across my chin. I truly didn’t know what to say to him.

“Sweet Lol, I think you know why.” I smiled at him meekly.

He cupped my cheek with his hand and all I could do at that point was rest my face in his palm.

“I know, honey. I felt it. Give him some time. He’s a very tough egg to crack.”

So am I.

“I need to get away.” I said bluntly.

“Sometimes distance is what two people need to have in order to strengthen their bond.” He said this matter-of-factly.

“Thank you for that, Lol. Listen…” I narrow the gap between us and gaze into his eyes intently, “I’m leaving Stockport, but please just keep this between you and I. I don’t know that I’ll be coming back here. Summer’s almost over, it’ll be time for me to get back home to America soon.”

The poor thing began to sob, he scooped me up in his arms and kissed me on the cheek.

“I’m going to miss you. Please, call me, write to me. Okay?”

I peeled away from his hold gently.

“I will. I’ve got to go, Lol. Bye.” I gave him a half-hearted smile before disappearing from his line of sight.

I refused to look back at him. I continued to tread on forward. Don’t look back, whatever you do, don’t look back.

*********************************************************

August 22, 1975. Abbey Road Studios. Time is approximately 3:00 pm.

“So you’ve been doing this for a while then?”

David Gilmour, one of the most glorified guitarists of this decade, with features mirroring that of a Greek god, is currently cradling me in his well sculpted arms. We lay comfortably on the velvet crimson sofa tucked in the corner of the studio. I’ve become engrossed by the warmth radiating from his body. I sink into his chest as he interlaces our fingers.

Rick Wright is at the piano, fiddling with the opening keys to the song “The Great Gig In The Sky.” David and I hear him playing from a distance however, our minds are fleeting elsewhere.

David gapes at me with piercing blue eyes, knitting his brows.

“You haven’t answered my question, beauty.” His posh, oxford accent has an immense effect on me.

Beauty. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s called me this since my arrival to this abode.

He brings my hand up to his adonis-like face, then studies each fingertip before pressing his lips gently on each one. I quiver slightly as I watch him doting on each of my fingers with his tender, lustrous lips. I haven’t felt this tranquil in ages, and all I can manage to do right now is be swaddled by this man’s embrace.

He proceeds to nuzzle his face against my palm.

“Um…what was your question again, David?” I chuckle, maintaining my gaze on him.

My entire body has grown limp, I’m nearly sprawled out on him. Why am I feeling this way?

“David, I’m scared.” I rest my hand on his chest, peering up at him like a child who’s frightened.

“Don’t be scared,” he nestles his nose into my hair, then kisses my forehead, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

He holds me closer, securing his grip around me just enough to where I’m not suffocating. He nestles his nose into my hair then plants a gentle kiss on my head. I can feel him smiling against my hair.

David proceeds to nuzzle his nose into the crook of my neck, then prays over every inch of my neck with soft kisses.

“You’re too good to be true, Walker…” he murmurs into my ear, nipping gently at my earlobe.

I let out a soft moan, bringing my hand up to his face to delicately trace his sharp jawline.

“David…” I gasp.

“You still never answered my question,” he chuckles, “I’ll just ask you a much simpler question then, hm?”

“Ask me anything.” I giggle, throwing my arms around his neck.

He takes me by surprise when he shifts my entire body onto his lap. I immediately straddle my legs around him.

“So what were you going to ask me, hm?” I tilt my head sideways, smiling at him like a child.

“How old are you?” He gazes at me with amusement.

“I turned 29 this past March.”

“Blimey, I turned 29 in March as well. This must mean we’re…soulmates.”

He leans in and locks his lips fervently with mine, tucking my hair behind my ear then tracing my jawline with his finger. I succumb to the sweet taste of his lips, our tongues searching for each other with each wave of kiss. We hold each other close as our lips pray, our salvation being that our hearts carry no weight, but in exchange there hangs an imaginary feather hanging above us, offering us consolation and promise that nothing can harm us both during this precious moment. Hands exploring each other’s physique. I gasp faintly as I feel him reaching down and feeling my thigh. His hand travels up further, tugging at the hem of my pantyhose gently as he reaches my apex. The passionate congregation of our lips intensifies.

Neither of us seem to want to cease this moment, but I am desperate for a breath. I peel away from our debauchery for a moment. David gazes at me, appearing rather aghast.

“Why have we stopped, darling?” He mutters breathlessly, tormenting me with more ravenous kisses from the top to the base of my neck.

Another intrusive thought about Eric begins to pollute my mind. I gaze into David’s piercing blue eyes but strangely enough, only one person comes to mind at this very moment.

Eric. How is he? Does he think of me still?

Roger, as in Roger Waters, waltzes his way towards David and I, carrying with him the bottle of ludes we’ve all been chipping away at for the past hour. Explains why I’ve been feeling a bit delirious.

I can’t seem to take him seriously with that silly jester hat he’s got on his head. I stifle a giggle.

“And what have we got here? Succumbing to the throes of young love, are we?” He smiles menacingly like a chesire cat, his tone whimsical.

His eyes pan from David to me, then back to David.

David and I glance at each other, still shamelessly wrapped in each other’s embrace. I notice how we’ve both grown mildly crimson at the cheeks.

“Would you two darlings care for some more…sweets?” Roger opens the bottle of quaaludes and presents its contents before David and I, shaking the bottle gingerly to taunt us.

“Don’t mind if I do.” David wiggles his fingers in the air, as if accepting a treat. He reaches into the bottle and collects a few cream-colored tablets with his fingers.

“Your turn.” David beams at me boyishly.

Roger points the bottle towards me, his face coaxing me to treat myself.

I do as I am told and snatch a few tablets from the bottle.

“Come with me, you two. Let’s all gather in our social circle.”

Roger leads the way as David and I follow suit. He gestures for David and I to sit on the floor together with their drummer Nick Mason and distinguished keyboardist, Rick Wright who are both doing their best to conceal their laughter. They are both seated cross-legged, snickering about God knows what. I heed their conversation as I assume my seat next to David on the cold floor.

“Nicholas.” Rick exclaims.

“Yes, my love?” Nick retorts, a wide smile breaking across his face.

“What would happen if a fat woman ate a year’s worth of blueberries?”

“She’d turn into a big fat blueberry the pigeons would have a field day with.”

Rick breaks out in laughter. Resting his hands on his abdomen, he falls back gently on the floor.

David and I chortle, gazing at Rick in amusement.

The final album recording of “The Great Gig In The Sky” begins to fill the void in the studio with its rich, seductive sounds, instilling in me a great concoction of emotions oscillating between joy, melancholy, grief, and the in between. I recline gently onto the cold floor, guided by the sedating effects of this mysterious substance I have just consumed. As I fight the urge to fall asleep, my mind further transcends me to a place with utmost peace. It’s as if my body has shed all heaviness, leaving me untethered.

I crane my head over to the boys who are now sprawled out all over the floor, laughing hysterically over nothing.

“Right. Everyone, the chorus is imminent, so I want us all to sing along!” Roger announces to the group.

“Yessir!” We chirp in unison.

Just as the chorus commences, the consummated marriage between keyboard and slide guitar, I take the deepest breath in just as the others are doing presumably, then expelling all worry and fear with my breath as I exhale to the chorus blaring tremendously in the room. The deep passion and soul in the woman’s voice nearly moves me to tears but I hold back, stunned as I am I can barely comprehend anything complex at this very moment.

I am escalating higher and higher and higher, transcending both time and space, all that is living and all that is not now exist as one perfect entity, higher and higher and higher still, until…

A familiar structure hovers over me, but my mind, in its current state, cannot possibly process the identity of this figure. His face, eerily reminiscent of an angel. His white dress shirt, partially left undone, further bolsters this observation.

“Who are you?” I mutter under my breath, as I stretch my arms out to this fascinating creature.

His expression stern, he tenses his jaw as he maintains his gaze on me. I narrow my eyes at him as if to instill fear in him, but he is seemingly unbothered. The tension in his jaw intensifies, the look of scorn never leaving his angelic face.

“Speak! Bright angel, speak…” Nick’s voice cracks as he shouts at the man, extending his arms out to him.

The man takes me aback when he grasps my arm and gently hoists me up to a standstill. I land on his chest, subconsciously placing my hand on his fine patch of chest hair that’s been left exposed. He holds me as if I were fine delicate china, cocking his head back to study my face closely.

“E-Eric?” I furrow my brows at him, seemingly perplexed.

I must be dreaming. This is the quaaludes, the music messing with my head…

He says nothing. He tenses his jaw, his aggravation is grossly apparent.

“You’re out of sorts, Walker. Come, let’s get you home, hm?” He raises his brows at me, his friendly mumble providing much needed solace.

The music ends and the room has grown silent once again.

It’s him alright.

“W-what? What do you mean?” I knit my brows further at him, seeking answers as my eyes dance with his. Our silent discourse appears to have caused controversy in the room.

David sits up erect, ogling at Eric and I for a moment as he tries to process this encounter.

“Do you two know each other?” He waves his finger between Eric and I.

I continue to lock eyes at Eric, whose face relaxed immediately the moment he heard David’s query.

“Why yes. Of course we do, don’t we?” He smiles at me half-heartedly, his eyes not leaving mine.

“Yes. We do…know each other.” I smile at him meekly, my face softening as I become engrossed by this man’s eyes.

“Nicholas.” Eric breaks apart from our embrace, but hold me close as he scoops me firmly with his arm.

“Stewaarrt!” Nick jolts upwards, sounding rather jovial upon seeing Eric.

“Stewaaartt!” The rest of the boys chime in.

He runs up to Eric and I hastily, then cups Eric’s chin in his hand before leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips.

My jaw drops to the floor. Eric clears his throat, narrowing his eyes at Nick.

“Beautiful angel boy. I’ve got your scores, per your request!” Nick scurries over to the grand piano then returns to Eric with sheets of paper containing musical notes.

“Right. Thanks.” Eric sounds blunt, seemingly annoyed by what Nick has just done.

“Erm…and that thing you just did…was it really necessary, Nicholas?” Eric furrows his brows at Nick.

“Oh sorry, dear boy. I just missed seeing that beautiful face of yours.” Nick smiles at Eric boyishly.

“Oh. Right.” Eric relaxes his face, turning to face me once again.

“Shall we go then, hm?” He interrogates me with his eyes.

“And now where exactly are you taking her, Stewart?” David bounces up from the floor, drifting lazily towards Eric and I.

Eric shifts away from me, striding mindfully towards David. The two men stand two inches away from each other. David rests one hand on his hip, while running his fingers through his long, lustrous dirty blond hair with the other. I watch as they narrow their eyes equally at each other.

Nick, Roger and Rick all stand and mimic my expression as we all watch the tension rise between Eric and David.

“It’s none of your business, is it Gilmour?” Eric mildly cocks his head to the side, smiling faintly at David.

“Well it is my business if you plan on playing dirty tricks on the poor girl.”

My worst fear is imminent. The lingering effects of quaaludes have briefly left me. I march towards Eric and David.

“Please. Let’s just be nice to each ot—”

Eric raises a finger to silence me. The two men continue to stare at each other intensely.

“Let’s settle this then. Outside?” David raises a brow, smirking at Eric.

“No.” Eric cranes his head towards me.

“Let’s have the lady decide who she wants to go home with.” Eric strains his jaw, his expression dark yet inviting.

Eric and David switch their gaze to meet mine, velvet brown and piercing blue ogling me with unsettling intensity. My head sways between Eric to David then back to Eric. My eyes settle into Eric’s doe-like gaze. I make my spontaneous decision.

“You. Eric.” I blurt out confidently.

David walks up to me steadily. He then brings his hand up to my face, caressing my cheek with his finger.

“I suppose this is goodbye then,” David murmurs under his breath, “but if you ever have any second thoughts about him, you know where to find me.”

Tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. My mind is still in a dazed state. I have no words.

I watch as Eric clenches his fist, gazing at David with undeniable fury. Eric stomps his way towards me, then clasps my arm firmly. He glares at David who appears to be gawking at him with a self-satisfied grin.

“Time’s getting on. Let’s get you home.” Eric speaks frankly, glaring at David.

*********************************************************

August 24, 1975. Hammersmith Odeon. Time is approximately 12:45 am.

The song. This is it. The final song of the night.

Despite any animosity between Eric and I, I kept my promise to the boys of coming to their Hammersmith show tonight. Our interaction last night was rather brief, he made sure I had settled into my hotel, we said our farewells for the night, then disappeared from each other’s line of sight. I wasn’t bothered.

But tonight the energy is slightly different. Having seen the boys live for the first time, front and center at that, I can attest that they have been nothing short of exceptional. These four wonderful lads from Manchester whom I have come to love and adore immensely, have made me very proud tonight. I heed close as Eric, seated comfortably at the grand piano, makes some opening remarks about the final song.

“Thank you, Hammersmith. Thank you, London. You’ve been a wonderful crowd tonight, and I’ve been thrilled to see all the beautiful smiling faces in the audience from up here. You may not think we see you but trust me, we see you.” Eric chuckles, craning his head over to Lol.

“Isn’t that right, Lol?”

“We. See. YOU.” Lol points his finger teasingly at the audience.

The crowd laughs gracefully. I find myself giggling at the duo’s playfulness.

Eric spots me in the audience and locking eyes with me, he produces his trademark juvenile smile. He strips his gaze away from me and continues his speech.

“About this last song…every blood, sweat and tear went into this song. Myself, Lol, Graham and Kev worked tirelessly at the studio to produce this monster, as we like to call it and I’m proud to say, that it is our pride and joy. Just before the show started, someone stopped me and asked ‘Eric, what’s the meaning behind that song?’ and my answer to that is, it can mean whatever you want it to mean. It is a love song, after all. So, I will be singing this song to you as it was meant to be sung. With love. We hope you like it.”

He clears his throat then fiddles with a few notes on the piano before delving deeply into the song. The backing track with the trademark white noise produced by multiplying Lol, Graham and Kev’s voices times…times God knows what, but it’s genius whatever they did. Eric elaborated on the nuts and bolts behind the making of the song and what I gathered from it was, the simple utilization of tape loops. Then of course, Eric being Eric, went on to discuss all the other technicalities that needed to happen in order to perfect this piece. The outcome? This monster that he is currently blessing our ears with.

“And just because..I call you up..don’t get me wrong, don’t think you’ve got it made..” He croons.

Is he speaking to anyone in particular? Is he perhaps speaking to…me?

I sit and listen, bemused by the music, entranced by the man who is pouring all his mind, body and soul into this song. The night is in full swing however, tonight has also felt young and restless. I allow myself to be engulfed by the music and be influenced by the imminence of what the night has in store for me.

********************************************************* It is rather bittersweet that the show had to come to an end. But that’s showbiz, as they say. I stroll lazily towards the exit of the stadium when a framed display captures my attention. It is an inscription about the history of The Apollo, though most commonly known as The Hammersmith Odeon. It goes on to showcase all the acts that have performed here previously including Elton John, The Who, Lou Reed, The Beach Boys and of course, The Beatles.

“Hi.” A tender voice purrs from behind me.

I turn around to see the man of the hour, Eric Stewart. He is wearing his black button up halfway undone, as he does frequently, under his white suit jacket. His black trousers and baby blue platforms complement the rest of his attire, and the gold chain necklace hanging around his neck simply accents his getup.

“Hello, Eric.” I smile at him meekly.

He narrows the gap between us, his body emitting a certain level of warmth that is ever so comforting to me.

“We didn’t get to talk much last night.” His jaw muscles tense.

“Well I wasn’t exactly in the proper state to talk, was I?” I chuckle, gazing into his beautiful velvet brown doe eyes.

A feeble smile creases his face. He stands in brief silence as he mentally processes my remark.

“Enzo?” A woman chirps from behind him.

“G! Hi!” Eric’s face is beaming upon meeting the woman eye to eye.

“How. Why. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Eric gapes at her wide-eyed.

The tall, slim, picture-perfect blonde gazes at him with amusement. They exchange firm hugs, then peel away to study each other.

“You know I live around here now, so I thought I’d drop in to see what all the fuss was about. Anyway, you were so good, Enzo. Very proud of you, darling.” She cups his cheek in her hand, then turns her attention to me, smiling sheepishly.

“G, this is Leah. She’s been working for us at the studio, taking photos of us and what not, but she has become the 5th member, in a way.” He chuckles.

5th member? That has to be one of the greatest delusions of the century.

“Hello, dear. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’m Gloria, Dee’s mum. You know, Eric and my darling girl speak very highly of you.”

We shake hands firmly. I have no words for how stunning this woman looks. This woman makes me look like the unwanted bits at the meat factory.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Gloria. And Dieta, boy…she is sensational. That girl is going places I can tell.”

“She really is. She takes after her father, really.” She chuckles, glancing at Eric who appears seemingly amused listening to us girls talk.

“Right. I’ll let you two girls get acquainted. I’ll go check in to see how the guys are doing.”

“Oh, right. Before you go, may I have a word with you, Enzo?” Gloria beams at Eric.

“Excuse us for a moment.” Gloria smiles at me, gracefully whisking Eric off to the side.

“Sure.”

I watch as the two of them chatter indistinctly, I slowly make my way towards a quiet corner as to not disturb them. Eric appears to be in his element, chatting with Gloria. He has mentioned her to me previously, but has kept quiet about her since. I must say, the two of them make a gorgeous pair. I smile as I look on, watching their little banter. My expression immediately turns sour when I witness Gloria leaning in to kiss Eric on the lips, holding his face in her hand.

I thought he said they were divorced? Why the hell do I care? I’m not even with him.

Eric scurries off to meet with the boys somewhere while Gloria makes her way back towards me.

“Sorry about that. I had to remind him to get Dee ready by early morning tomorrow as her and I are going school shopping in Leicester Square. Knowing Eric, he tends to forget little details like that sometimes.” Gloria smiles at me gingerly.

“It’s all good.” I grin at her widely, concealing the knife jabbed in me from seeing her kiss him.

“So I heard you and Eric are getting on quite well, hm?” She inquires with her eyes.

“Well, we haven’t really spoken in a while but he’s been easy to work with from my experience.”

“Can I just say something to you, Leah?” She narrows the gap between us, her tone has shifted to a more ominous one.

“Yes. Anything.”

“I must warn you about Eric.”

Warn me? About him? Why?

“I- I don’t understand.” I smile subtly, furrowing my brows at her.

“Well it’s just that, Eric is a musician and his career seems to be peaking. He’s never going to be in one place all the time if he’s touring, and he’s always getting loads of attention because he’s a celebrity.”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I still don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” I genuinely have no words to say to this woman.

“My point is that, are you ready to lead that kind of life? Being the girlfriend of a rockstar that will almost always be, let’s just say, fleeting? It’s the reason why him and I didn’t work out. We couldn’t stand being apart from each other all the time.” She raises her brow at me.

She thinks she has me figured out, but she’s wrong. Totally wrong.

“With all due respect, Gloria, I’m going to have to correct you there because Eric and I..he’s not..we’re not dating.” I state matter-of-factly.

“Oh? Well then why does he sound all mushy about some girl whenever he shares life updates with me over the phone?”

“Perhaps he’s talking about another girl?” I smile at her feebly.

“That’s impossible. He’s definitely talking about you, Leah. That’s why I couldn’t wait to meet you in person.”

And to think that they still remain in communication. Are they still sleeping together? Oh dear, I need to rid myself of these thoughts.

She sounds quite pleased to see me, but something about what she just said is corrupting my brain. I notice Eric making his way towards Gloria and I, but something tells me I should go.

“Gloria, I’m sorry to cut this short but I should get going. I’ve got work to do in the morning and it’s way past my bed time.”

“Oh dear of course, but..aren’t you going wait for Eric?”

“No, it’s ok. I really should get going.”

She plants a gentle kiss on my cheek as I prepare to depart. I smile at her delicately.

“It was very nice meeting you, Gloria.”

“Likewise, Leah.”

I glance at her, nodding at her closing remark. I march towards the exit hastily without looking back. When I get out to the street, I make a left and carry on walking. I would like to dismiss everything that just happened in the last 10, 20 minutes, but it is perpetually ingrained in my mind.

Suddenly, a familiar voice calls out to me, the approaching footsteps echo louder as they get more imminent.

“Leah..hang on…”

I turn around to see Eric panting, desperate for a breath. He rests his hands on his knees as he tries to regain his breath. He grasps me by the shoulders, establishing a firm grip on them.

“Where do you think you’re going, hm?” His doe eyes search for mine.

“Home.” I state with minimal context.

“Don’t be silly. I was wondering if you would like to go to our after party. You know, with me and the lads. There will be other guests there, but it’s mainly just us.” He smiles at me boyishly.

“Eric, I really have to go—”

“Was it something she said to you?”

How does he know?

“What do you mean?”

“Gloria. Has she said something to you that you didn’t like?”

Yes. But let’s just forget it now.

“No, not really. She is sensational.” I chuckle, drifting my head off to the side.

He places two fingers on my chin, turning my head to face him. I gaze up at him, eager to hear what he has to say.

“You were about to leave before hearing what I have to say to you. I was going to save it for a more special time but—”

“Then it can wait, Eric. It’s getting late. I have to g—”

“Leah Walker, I love you. In fact, I am deeply, madly and immensely in love with you. Day, afternoon, evening and night I think about you. And if I don’t say any of this to you now, I don’t know when I’ll ever have the chance to. You’re always disappearing on me.”

I gape at him facetiously. I am at a complete loss for words.

“Eric, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you drunk?”

“No I’m not, which is why I’m saying all this to you now while I’m sober because this is how I really feel about you, how I’ve felt about you since the day you set foot in our studio. Don’t want to keep hiding it no more.”

“You’re not capable of loving me, Eric.” I retort frankly.

“Oh yes I bloody am. Allow me to show you.”

He leans in to kiss me ravenously, holding me close to him. I am at his mercy, succumbing to the soft, delicious taste of his lips with some tongue added to this passionate engagement.

I peel away from him briefly, furrowing my brows at him.

“What about Gloria? Aren’t you two—”

“No, we’re not together. Like I said before, we are long divorced. She’s happily married to someone else.”

“But I saw her kissing you…” I bring my head down, glancing at the ground below me.

He cranes my head up with his finger to face him once again.

“Don’t know why she did that, but I didn’t like it either. I want your kisses instead.” He showcases that stupid boyish smile of his.

We resume our lip and tongue fantasy-brought-to-life. Hands fumbling all over each other. Each tidal wave of kiss comes with a burst of flames, and the instant realization of the candor in our burning desire for each other. Eric strips away from me, seemingly wanting to get a word in.

“Would you like to be in my company tonight?” His eyes are screaming for me to agree.

“Well, the thing is—”

“Please?” He is pleading with his eyes, as per usual.

“Ok.” I smile at him sheepishly.

********************************************************* I watch as I look at myself in the mirror, studying my features. Eric comes up behind me, snaking his scrawny arms around my waist. He alternates between kissing and sucking the crook of my neck, then gently nips at my earlobe.

“Walker..” I feel him smiling against my ear. His hot breath is giving me goosebumps.

“Happy?” Our noses touch the moment I turn my head to face him. We giggle in unison.

“Yes but more importantly are you happy?”

He gazes at me as I ogle at the two of us in the mirror.

“Look at us..we are perfect.” He rests his chin on my shoulder, kissing my neck repeatedly as he tightens his hold around me.

I turn around completely to face him, chaining my arms around his neck. I cock my head to the side as I peer into his velvet brown eyes.

“So what now, hm?” I smile at him from ear and ear.

“I must prove my love to you. I want you, Leah, and I’m going to make you mine right now.” His expression is smug, devouring every part of me with just his eyes.

I squeal loudly as he scoops me up in his arms, holding onto him snugly. He glides me towards his bed, then descends me gently onto the soft mattress. I lay on my side as I rest my cheek on my hand, resting all my weight on my elbow, watching him closely.

“So you get to take advantage of me now that you’ve gotten me a bit drunk, hm?” I giggle.

“Mm, aren’t I a lucky chap?” He smirks at me, fumbling to unbutton his shirt.

I giggle in amusement as I watch him struggle to undo the buttons on his shirt. I bounce off the bed to assist him.

“I believe you’re in need of assistance, sir.” I tilt my head to one side, beaming at him as I help him finish unbuttoning his shirt. I reach up to lock my lips with his. He slips out of his dress shirt as our lips continue to pray.

Each time our lips touch, sparks fill the air and there are flames bursting everywhere once again. As we progress through passionate lip locking, he slips me out of my tank top, my breasts springing before him, my nipples grazing against his juvenile side profile. His eyes widen as he studies my figure. He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, then works his way down my neck and all across my collarbone with a trail of kisses.

“God, you are absolute sensation, my love.” He mutters against my bare skin.

He returns to kissing me on the lips, gliding his hand over my breast. He stoops down to give my nipple a little suck, all while slipping me out of my skirt. I let out a soft moan, running my fingers through his long, soft jet black hair. He cocks his head back to ogle at me closely. He stares down at my pantyhose, furrowing his brows and sighing.

“Did you really have to make it a job for me to unwrap you?” He cackles.

“Well if you’re going me to make yours, I better subject you to hard labor.”

“Come here you cheeky monkey.” We giggle as he tackles me gently onto the bed, with him landing on top of me, his gold chain glistening above me.

“Nice necklace. Gold, is it?” I fiddle with his necklace playfully.

“No time for small talk, let’s get to the point.”

He shows no mercy between kissing me ravenously on the lips and the alternating sucking and nipping motion on my neck. I moan loudly.

“Eric��” I gasp.

“Yes.” He exclaims, coming up briefly to utter a word then resuming his relentless kisses.

“Make love to me.”

He pauses. Sitting up erect, he smiles at me from ear to ear. He hovers over me once again, lowering his face unto me to peck me on the lips.

“Your wish is my command, your highness.”

He fumbles deftly as he slips me out of my undergarments and I help him out of his. I am taken by surprise when a condom slips out of his pocket. I pinch it between two fingers and present it to him.

“Well what have we got here?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh bloody hell...that’s all Graham’s work. We won’t be needing this tonight.” He smirks, snatching the condom out of my fingers and tossing it on the floor.

My jaw is on the floor. The audacity of this man. Unbelievable.

He proceeds to go down exploring every inch of my bare body. He sucks on my nipple, slipping two fingers into his mouth to wet them then lowers them to thrust his skilled digits delicately into my opening. I gasp audibly. He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me relentlessly. I moan into the air, grasping a massive lock of his hair.

“Oh my god..” I moan.

He proceeds to go down even further, kissing my abdomen then my lips down south. He continues the blasphemous act of thrusting his fingers in and out of me as he eats me like a starving man. He carefully pushes my knees upwards as he feeds his hunger with this feast, causing me I moan even louder.

“Eric…please…”

“Don’t..come..yet.” He mutters breathlessly in between eating me.

I can feel my nectar seeping out and making its way onto his fingers. As if on cue, he slips his fingers out of me abruptly then strokes his outstanding erection before me. He stares at me menacingly, licking his lips coated with my sweet essence. He then proceeds to slide his highly engorged girth into me, causing us both to moan out load.

“Oh bloody hell, Leah...” He murmurs into my cheek as he lowers himself onto me.

“I fucking want you..I fucking want all of you..forever..if possible…” He says breathlessly in between thrusts, his erection throbbing at my entrance.

“I want you too...” I retort, bringing his face closer to me and locking my lips with his. I kiss him ever so fervently.

“I meant what I said when I told you I loved you. And this is me showing you how much I fucking love you.” He moans into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Shh..stop cursing. It’s not very gentleman-like.” I moan, bringing my thumb to my mouth and biting the side of it.

“Shut up.” He chortles.

“No, you shut up.” I retort, smirking at him.

“Oh, right. If you say so...”

He proceeds to thrust in and out of me harder..faster..harder…faster..faster…faster…

“Eric…”

“Leah..my love..I’m…”

“Me too…me too..”

“Oh god..” He grunts loudly. “Ahh fuck Leah, I love you! I love you so bloody much..”

We climax simultaneously. I feel his warm seed seeping out of me. I allow him to rest his entire body weight on me as we both strive get our breathing under control. I begin to play with his now disheveled hair. I plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too, Eric.”

He lays on his side, using his elbow to prop himself up then resting his face on his hand. He tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear, a wide smile breaking across his face. He proceeds to caress my cheek with his finger.

“I love you. You make me a happy man. Stay with me..forever.” He beams at me like a wee boy who’s just hit the jackpot at the candy store.

“Forever?”

“Forever.” He leans in to seal his word with a kiss.

“So, did you miss me?” he chuckles.

“After doing what we just did, you’re just now asking me this?” I roll my eyes at him, chuckling.

“Sure, why not? It’s a civil question, isn’t it?” He showcases his trademark juvenile smile.

He leans in to kiss me ardently with added tongue. I surrender myself to him, knowing fully well this is what we were both craving all along.

Ever the charmer, Stewart.

———————————————————————————

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