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theperksofbeingatotalnerd · 7 years ago

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Boyz n Poizn

“All I want is boys and poison

Every night it’s boys and poison

All I do is enjoy ‘em, destroy ‘em

Until I feel what I wanna feel, what I wanna feel”

Inspired by the song “Boyz n Poizn” by Phoebe Ryan

Friday night. The bar was crowded. All that could be heard was the sound of animate chatter and clinking glasses. Harry was strategically sitting in the table on the far right corner, allowing him to get a clear view of everyone that walked in and out of the bar. He had had a tiring week and just wanted to have some fun. He had fallen into a familiar routine by now. He would work as an Auror throughout the week and then come to this bar, drink as much as he could, meet someone and take them home. His friends were disapproving of this, but he had stopped trying to argue with them a long time ago. He was only 23, and he didn’t really feel like getting into a relationship. After breaking up with Ginny, he hadn’t been able to feel any sort of connection with anyone. He had gone on a few dates, but no one had piqued his interest. He felt bored. So he decided that casual sex was the best option for him. It was fun, and it helped him momentarily forget about everything. A bad day at work, a fight with his friends, the war. Everything slipped away from his mind for those moments, and Harry was thankful for that. He always made sure his intentions were clear, not wanting to trick anyone into thinking he wanted more than a one-night stand. He knew that all of the wizards and the few witches that had slept with him had done it because of his status, taking off their clothes before he had managed to even say a sentence to them, but he didn’t really care. However, this had earned him a reputation. Apparently, sleeping with The Chosen One was the high point of some people’s lives, so they had to share the story with everyone they knew. Needless to say, Harry had been in the public eye for months, with his face sprayed all over the news, with the most intricate theories about his personal life. He had stopped caring about those things while still at Hogwarts

He drank what remained in his glass, asked for a refill, and waited.

Draco couldn’t believe Pansy had convinced him to go to a bar on a Friday night. He was particularly worn out after an exhausting week in St Mungo’s, and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He had tried to convince Pansy to let him go, but being the insufferable Slytherin that she was, she dragged him here anyways. He had no possible way out. He took a deep breath, and followed her inside. The place was ok-looking, with simple decorations, bringing him a sense of familiarity as he remembered his nights at Hogsmeade with his friends just a couple of years back. He sat down at the table Pansy had picked and before he had even managed to form a thought in his head, Pansy had already asked for two glasses of Firewhiskey, winking at the bartender before he wandered off.

“You’re incorrigible, Pans.”

“Oh, darling, you know me, flirting is in my nature.” Draco grinned. Pansy always had her way when it came to men. A simple snap of her fingers and they would all be on their knees for her. He wished he could be like her. He was 23 and he still daydreamed about the boy for whom he had fallen while still at Hogwarts. It was ludicrous, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. All those years of bickering only for him to realise that he didn’t really hate Potter. It was quite the opposite, really. He hadn’t seen him since their last year at Hogwarts, and he had no idea how he was doing. He refused to read the papers, because he was scared of what he might learn about him. He could be married at this point, but Draco chose not to acknowledge it. He didn’t want to know. Things were working out just fine, until…

“Oh sweet Merlin, Draco, look who’s there!” Draco’s eyes immediately followed Pansy’s motion. He felt a pang in his chest. He was there. Potter was there. Looking absolutely gorgeous. He had put on some muscle, grown a few inches. But his piercing green eyes remained the same. His signature spectacles were askew, and his messy black hair barely covered his scar. His breath hitched. He could feel every single one of his emotions resurfacing, overwhelming him in such a brutal way that he almost got knocked over. He then realised Potter wasn’t alone. Across him was another man. They seemed to be having quite the conversation, as they were both laughing in a clearly flirtatious way. Then, Potter grabbed the other man’s face and kissed him fervently. Draco was starting to feel incredibly dizzy, the pain in his chest multiplying by the second. “For fuck’s sake, Draco, what were you even thinking. It’s been 5 fucking years.” Potter soon dropped some Sickles onto the table, grabbed the other man by the hand, and left the bar.

Pansy’s snort brought him back to reality.

“What?!” Draco asked.

“Draco, I can’t believe you still have feelings for him!”

” I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me! Your expression gave it all away!”

“I…”

“That’s what you get for not wanting to know anything about him! If you had actually allowed me to talk to you about him, you would have known it by now.”

“What… Pansy, know about what?”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Draco. Potter’s a bit of a heartbreaker these days. He sleeps around. Apparently he’s not interested in a relationship, at least not for now. Someone’s told me he comes here every Friday night looking for a new, well… target.”

“Oh.” That’s all Draco could say. He felt somehow relieved for learning that Potter hadn’t settled down, but at the same time he felt jealous of all the people that had been with him. It was a bittersweet feeling, and he didn’t really know what to do.

Harry collapsed on the bed. Jack had quite the stamina, but Harry wasn’t complaining. It was some of the best sex he’d had in a while. Still on the high of what had just happened, he closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep.

A few hours later, Harry woke up with a tight grip around his waist. It took him a few seconds to realise who was holding him, and a few more to realise where he was. He was in Jack’s room. He slowly removed himself from Jack’s grip, trying to be as careful as he could not to wake him up. He grabbed his clothes from the floor, quickly put them on and Apparated to his apartment.

Draco couldn’t stop thinking about what he had witnessed on Friday. He desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have Potter, even if it was only for a few hours. He was pretty sure that blood had stopped coursing through his veins, only to be replaced by jealousy. The feelings that he had been trying to (unsuccessfully) repress for the past 5 years were all emerging and he felt disoriented. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to see him again. Talk to him. Maybe Potter would take him to bed too. If it was the only thing Draco could get from him, then he would take it. Even if he ended up getting hurt. And Draco had a feeling he would.

Friday night had finally arrived. Draco had taken an extra half hour in front of the mirror to make sure he looked his absolute best. The fact that he was doing it for Potter was ridiculous, he was perfectly aware, but he couldn’t help it. He was determined.

He got to the bar and immediately headed towards the table Potter had been sitting at the previous week. It was pretty obvious why Potter had chosen that particular table. It gave him the perfect view on everyone at the bar. Draco shivered at the thought. He couldn’t believe Potter had it all planned out to the millimetre.

He had no idea what Potter’s schedule was, so he had decided to come in early. He had to wait for a whole hour before Potter showed up.

“Malfoy?!” The shock was evident in Harry’s voice.

“Potter!” Draco put on his most mischievous smirk. He had to pretend he had no idea Potter was coming.

“Hmm… What are you doing here?” Harry was genuinely confused. Malfoy was the last person he expected to see there. Especially at his table.

“This is a bar, isn’t it, Potter? What do people do at bars? Crochet?” Draco widened his smirk. He might have changed since the war, but his wits and sarcasm had remained unscathed.

“Ha…ha. Very funny, Malfoy. I was simply asking because I have never seen you here before.”

“Come here often, do you?”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Great! My life has won meaning again!” Draco said, with a smile, hoping his mild teasing didn’t offend him.

Harry simply rolled his eyes.

“Want to sit down?”

Harry cocked his eyebrow. Draco Malfoy was asking him to sit with him at a bar. Out of all the things that could happen on his Friday night, this was by far the most unlikely. Maybe that’s why he said yes.

“How are things, Potter?”

“I take it you haven’t been reading the papers.”

“Oh no, I always read the papers, I just skip the parts that mention your name in them.”

“Of course you do…” Harry muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing… I’ve been doing fine. I’m an Auror. I have a nice apartment. Still keep in touch with most of my friends from Hogwarts… That’s about it.”

“Seeing anyone?” Draco said, acting nonchalant. He hadn’t meant to be so straight-forward, but he was dying to know what Potter would say to him about that particular subject.

“Merlin, you really meant it when you said you don’t read about me on the news!”

“Who do you take me for, Potter?”

Harry smiled. As strange as it might seem, he had missed Malfoy’s bickering. He was one of the only few who had never been impressed about his status, and he appreciated the challenge. Truth be told, throughout the years he’d wondered about Malfoy multiple times, where he was, how he was doing in the Post-War society, who he was with…

“Potter!” Harry blinked at him. He realised he had zoned out.

“Yeah, sorry. I mean… Well, I… What were you saying?”

“If I had known I’d have this effect on you, I would have come looking for you sooner!” Draco laughed, in an attempt to conceal the flush that was quickly spreading through his cheeks. He was flirting rather heavily, and while he had been determined to talk to Potter, and maybe even sleep with him, now that he had wondrous green eyes looking at him in what was clearly astonishment, he was scared. Before letting Potter comment on what had just happened, he said: “I asked you if you were seeing anyone.”

“Oh… Yeah, right. I’m not seeing anyone, no. I’m kind of just having some fun, I guess?”

“Very articulate, Potter.”

“What I mean is that I’m hooking up, you know? No strings attached.”

“Ah… I see.” Draco said, trying to sound as surprised with the bit of information that had just been given to him as he could.

“Well, what about you?”

“I’m not seeing anyone, Potter.”

“What happened to that girl you were supposed to marry right after Hogwarts?”

“Astoria? Oh, it was arranged by our parents, all for the sake of pure-blood supremacy, but it didn’t really work out. Particularly after telling everyone I have other preferences…”

“Other… Preferences?”

“Gay, Potter, I’m gay.” Harry gasped. His former nemesis was attracted to men. That made him feel somehow relieved, and he had no idea why.

“No need to be surprised.” Draco said, rather coldly.

“Malfoy, no! It’s just I had no idea! I wasn’t trying to offend you or anything. I’m actually bisexual.”

“Oh.” Things were getting personal. “So you’re not looking for a relationship, then?”

“Not really. Everyone expects me to settle down, but I’m only 23! I’m still quite young. Besides, I haven’t really met anyone that has caught my interest long enough for me to pursue a relationship. What about you?”

“I guess you could say I’m hoping to meet someone special. I rather enjoy the idea of having someone to love and cherish for the rest of my days. Not that I have anything against your lifestyle, Potter. It’s just that I want something more meaningful.” Draco said, with a glimmer of hope. If only he could tell Potter he was the one Draco wanted to have all this with.

“I understand. You know, Ron and Hermione have all that. They’ve been together since we were 17, and it’s pretty clear that their love is one of a kind. They are meant for one another. It’s something truly beautiful to witness. They nag me the most about my choices and I can’t help but feel jealous of them at times. How wonderful can it be to have that kind of connection with someone? But then I remember they’ve known each other for years. It was something that was built. And I haven’t had that. Not yet. So I guess it’s easier to just let go and have fun.”

“But if you were to meet someone interesting you would settle down?” Draco said, trying not to sound desperate.

“I guess so.”

“Hmmm.”

They stood there awkwardly for a couple minutes, basking in the realisation of what they had just shared with one another. Harry couldn’t believe he was sitting with Malfoy, talking about his prospects on love, instead of doing what he’s come to know for the past years. But now that he thought about it, this outcome wasn’t really that bad.

“So, what do you do?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m a Healer at St Mungo’s.”

Harry smiled. “I always thought you would end up being a Healer.”

“Oh?” Confusion was written all over Draco’s face.

“Well, you were one of the brightest students at Hogwarts, you’ve always been good at Potions, and I figured you would want to work in a position that allowed you to help others, as some sort of redemption, after everything that has happened…” Harry blushed, not realising how much thought he had given to all of this.

“I see you’ve given much thought to my career choices, Potter. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Draco smirked once again, in his usual teasing tone, disguising the heat that was quickly spreading in his entire body.

“Very funny.” Harry said, with the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.

They continued for quite a while, talking about everything that came into their minds. It felt nice. It felt normal.

“Well, I have to go. This was nice, Potter.” Draco said, while getting up from his seat.

“Oh, yeah, this was nice.” Harry said, also getting up.

“See you around.” Draco said, as he started heading towards the door, taking painfully slow steps, hoping that Potter would stop him from leaving without any prospect of seeing each other anytime soon. He was right to do so.

“Malfoy, wait!” Harry shouted, while rushing towards the door. “I… Hmm. This was nice, you said so yourself.”

“Yes, Potter, and?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you… Mmm… If you would like to do this some other time?” Harry asked, scratching his neck, in a clearly nervous state.

Draco wanted to shout “Yes!” but knew better. He made a dramatic pause, long enough to see a tinge of disappointment in Potter’s eyes, which made his mouth go unexpectedly dry.

“Sure, why not?”

“Great!”

“Next Friday, same place, same time. Don’t you dare be late.” Draco said, as he walked out of the bar, leaving Harry in a state of haze.

“Fuck.” Harry muttered. Apparently his Friday routine had been postponed. Indefinitely. And what was more incredulous was that Harry was pretty ok with that.

“You have a date with Draco sodding Malfoy?!” Ron was practically fuming.

“It’s not a date, Ron! We just agreed to meet up.”

“Still. This is Malfoy were talking about!”

“Mate, you know just as well as I do that he’s changed. Even at our eight-year at Hogwarts, he was already different then.”

Hermione, who had been quiet up until that point, with one hand firmly on her hip and the other holding a mug filled with hot tea, finally spoke up: “Don’t be so dramatic, Ron! Malfoy has indeed changed, and if Harry is willing to meet him, we should trust him with it.” She flashed a knowingly smile, the kind only she knew how to do, that instantly appeased Harry. He was so grateful for her.

Ron scowled. “Are you sure, mate?”

“Positive. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” Ron said, lightly shaking his head in what was a clear display of disapproval.

Draco felt a turmoil in his stomach. He was strikingly nervous. He hadn’t had time to change, his lime green robes falling effortlessly around his figure. He still hadn’t grasped the fact that he was meeting Potter, the subject of his affections for 5 years now. He felt rather alarmed. What if Potter didn’t reciprocate his feelings? What if this was just a stupid prank? The possibilities were endless, but Draco knew he was ready to take whatever he could. If Potter just wanted to be friends, then he would gladly accept it. Was he being a masochist? Probably, but he didn’t really care.

His chain of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by a pair of dazed green eyes.

Harry’s mind went blank. Malfoy was sitting at his usual table, with a closed fist against his cheek, clearly in the middle of some heavy thinking. He was wearing the traditional lime green robes of St Mungo’s Healers; which Harry hadn’t thought could look good on anyone. Apparently he was wrong. Oh, how very wrong. The odd colour brought out Malfoy’s grey eyes, which Harry had just realised were simply mesmerising. He was wearing a white shirt underneath, and the first two buttons were undone, revealing a patch of creamy pale skin, and all Harry could think was how amazing it must feel to trace every single inch of it with his tongue. He was aroused. And Draco Malfoy had caused it. He was utterly fucked.

“Potter!” Malfoy’s rushed tone snapped him out of his incoherence.

“M-Malfoy. Right. Hi”

“Hi, Potter. Are you ok?” Draco asked, concern evident in his tone.

“I’m fine. It’s just…”

“Yes?”

“Rough week at work, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it. Today was one of the busiest days at St Mungo’s, I had to rush to get here on time.”

“You… Rushed… You shouldn’t have to! We could have re-scheduled or something.”

“It’s ok Potter, don’t worry about it. So, rough week? What happened?”

Harry then proceeded to tell Malfoy all about the risky operation he’d been working on, which involved three Dark Art brothers engaged in a façade.

Draco then told Potter all about an accident that had caused one of the most agitated days St Mungo’s had ever had.

Then they started sharing details about their favourite things; how much Harry enjoyed curling up in his bed with a book in his hand, and a cup of Earl Grey tea by his bedside; how Draco had the habit to get in early to work just to talk to his youngest patients and cheer them up; how Harry always worried about his co-workers and made them a cup of tea or coffee the minute he saw the tiredness in their eyes; how Draco had taken up a kitten he had seen lost in the streets one day, and how much he had fallen for it, and many many other things.

They both left the bar many hours later with the deepest feeling of contentment.

It became a routine. Every single Friday night they would meet and talk for hours and hours, without a care in the world.

Harry wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he had fallen in love with Draco (he wasn’t Malfoy, not anymore). He was intelligent, witty and sarcastic (he had always been), but he was also charming, kind, funny, strong (he had managed to take a complete turn in his life, overcoming his past and his mistakes without faltering for a single second) and stupidly gorgeous. Harry would get all warm and giddy whenever he was with him, and the more he talked to him, the more the heat at the pit of his stomach would multiply. They had even started flirting. Harry was confident his feelings were reciprocated and was ready to take things to the next level.

Draco hadn’t thought possible to fall more in love with Harry (Potter was long gone), but he was evidently wrong. Harry was the most remarkable person he’d ever met; his altruism, his ability to listen, his willingness to help others, without asking for anything in return, his stupid Gryffindor courage (which Draco found extremely arousing) and his tantalizing green eyes… Everything about him drove Draco insane, and he wanted nothing more but to continue exploring every single inch of Harry (both figuratively and literally). And what was more surprising to Draco was that Harry appeared to correspond his feelings. He had never been happier.

They had agreed to meet that Friday at the bar, and Draco had never been so irritated in his life. He genuinely adored his job but he got held up at the hospital because one of his patients had been discharged but was refusing to leave. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to get him to leave, but this made him excruciatingly late for his date with Harry.

When he got to the front door, he was a wreck. He was trembling with all the nerves, and he hoped Harry was still there. He took a deep breath, and pushed the door.

What greeted him was everything he had never thought he’d see. Harry was sitting at their table, but he wasn’t alone. There was another man sitting with him (a fairly attractive one), and Harry’s palm was gently placed on the other man’s shoulder. They were laughing. Harry’s eyes were glistening; he was clearly enjoying whatever was going on there. And all Draco could feel was agony. He felt like his heart was being repeatedly hammered. He felt like he was drowning. Tears started to fall silently along his face, and before he did something he would later regret, he stormed out of the bar and Apparated home.

Draco had spent the following day in bed, crying his heart out and drinking away his sorrows with the most expensive beverage he owned, a high quality Scotch given to him by Blaise, who had told him he was to only open it on a special occasion. “Screw that” he had thought. This was the most appropriate moment to chug down the drink, to make him forget. He was completely dishevelled, he hadn’t even bothered to shower, and he had barely eaten anything. He had received several Floo calls throughout the day, many of them from Harry, but he ignored them all. He then decided to block the network. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, he just wanted to be alone.

Draco hadn’t showed up to their date, and when Harry got home the first thing he did was call him. Draco didn’t pick up, and Harry thought maybe he was still at work and hadn’t managed to get back to him. Harry went to sleep that night feeling unsure.

When Draco didn’t return any of his calls the following day, Harry lost it. He was so concerned he felt physically sick. He couldn’t even eat without feeling like vomiting. He was so agitated that Hermione and Ron had to come to his house and sleep there to calm him down. He was always on the verge of having panic attacks.

On Sunday, he woke up to both his friends hovering above his bed, staring worryingly at him.

“Harry…” Hermione said, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mate, how are you feeling?” Ron asked, with his left arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I feel awful. Where is he? What is going on?” Harry rubbed his face with both his hands. He was desperate for some news. He was so scared for Draco. Had something happened? Was Draco in danger? He must be, otherwise, why wouldn’t he return any of his calls?

“Go take a shower, Harry. It’s almost 2 pm. I’ll make something for you to eat, and I’ll brew you some Camomile tea. It will help.”

Harry displayed a weak smile. There was nothing he was more thankful for than his two best friends. He had no idea where he’d be without them. Probably dead.

He took a cold shower, and the water dripping down his body only flooded him with more thoughts about Draco. He had been so nervous the previous day. Today he was calmer, and he wanted to go to Draco’s apartment, to check if he was there, if he was alright.

He ate the meal Hermione had cooked for him and drank his tea, immediately feeling better. He said his goodbyes, assuring his friends that he was ok, and perfectly capable of leaving his house on his own.

He couldn’t Apparate to Draco’s house, so he Apparated to a nearby street instead, and took a walk from there. He rang the bell but no one answered. Luckily, someone was going out, so he took the opportunity to get inside the building. He quickly reached Draco’s door and softly knocked on it. No reply. He knocked once more. No reply. At some point, he started banging on the door.

“Whoever it is, just leave.” He heard from the other side.

“Draco? Draco! Are you alright? I’ve been so worried! You haven’t returned any of my calls!”

“Go away, Potter!” Draco aggressively yelled.

“Draco, what’s going on?” Harry yelled back. His concern was practically tangible.

Draco laughed, but it wasn’t the usual “you’re genuinely funny” laugh. It was cold.

“What’s going on, Potter?! You of all people should know.”

“Know what? Draco? What the hell are you talking about? Open this goddamn door!”

Harry was leaning against the door, and hadn’t it been for his quick reflexes from Quidditch, he would have harshly hit the floor.

Draco’s face was blotchy and his eyes were red. He had been crying. The smell of alcohol filled his nostrils almost instantaneously.

“Draco… What happened?”

“You happened, Potter. I was stupid enough to think you actually cared for me but I was clearly wrong. I knew about your reputation but I chose to ignore it. This is all my fault. I should have known better.”

“What are you talking about?! Of course I care about you, Draco! These past weeks have made me happier than all the years we’ve spent apart.”

“I saw you, Potter. On Friday. With that man. I saw something in your eyes, something you had never showed while being with me. You were all smiles and laughs. It was pretty clear to me.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You saw… Oh Draco. That was Michael.”

“I don’t want to know the name of your lover.”

“He’s not my lover! Draco, please listen. Michael and I met 2 years ago. He was being held hostage by one of the most dangerous wizards at the time. I saved his life. We’ve been friends ever since. He’s a muggleborn, and he’s married. To a woman. He even has two kids. He was at the bar the other night with a few of his friends and he saw me and immediately came by to say hello. We hadn’t seen each other in months because he had been travelling. We were just catching up.”

Draco froze on the spot. He had been jealous for no reason. He had overreacted. And now he felt ludicrous.

“Harry, I’m so sorry I overreacted. It’s just that I’ve been pining after you for years, and I was starting to feel like things were working between the two of us. It crushed me to see you with another man. Pansy told me you used to go to the bar every Friday night to hook up, and seeing you with him made me think you hadn’t stopped. That what we had meant nothing.” Draco was crying again.

“You’ve been pining after me for years?” Harry was incredulous. He had no idea Draco had had feelings for him for that long.

“Yes. I fell in love with you while we were still at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, Draco. I had no idea… I haven’t slept with anyone since that first night. How could I? You have been the only thing on my mind for the past weeks. I have fallen deeply in love with you, Draco.”

Draco gave him the brightest smile, and Harry felt like a teenager all over again. He grabbed Draco by the shirt and kissed him. Draco’s lips were soft, and without even thinking, Harry licked his bottom lip, earning a moan from him. Soon, both their tongues were wrapped around each other, moving perfectly in sync. Draco tasted like mint and Scotch, and despite being a weird combination, Harry adored it. He adored Draco. And all he wanted was to continue discovering Draco, for the rest of their lives. And even that felt like it wasn’t enough. After a while, they parted.

Harry kissed Draco’s nose, and muttered something along the lines of “How about a shower?” against it.

Draco grinned, arching his left eyebrow. “A shower? Is that an invitation?”

Harry grinned back. “Damn right it is.”

Soon, all that could be heard was running water and soft moans.

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unkindnessofone · 7 years ago

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5SOS. Rooms You’re Tall In

It’s up! This was a much tougher one to write. I thought I knew where it would go, I had so many notes, but here we are. I would love to hear some feedback. Sending this one out as a thank you to the darling @gotsbadblood. They are always encouraging and supportive. I appreciate it. Also if you love Taylor Swift, it’s a blog worth checking out.

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They had been there before together multiple times, but this felt different than following their parents around for their respective vocations and seeing Parisian life from the safety and comfort of their parent's laps. He was travelling the world as an actual musician, making money for his songs and hearing people that weren't from his neighborhood being impacted from feelings and words that had been produced by his fingers and mind. Then there was her, studying in the city to become a chef, being screamed at in a language she hardly understood while prepping plates for some of the most appetizing food she had ever seen. She wasn't Luke Hemmings daughter when she had her culinary whites on. He was still trying to shake off the shadow of his dad as it danced behind him every time he stepped on stage.

Taking her bohemian dreams to a different level than she had been able to back home in Sydney, Penelope skipped steps on her way out of the subway pit as found herself in a more touristy part of town. She held the crochet strap of her usual purse over her chest as the bottom of her elephant pants, coloured teal, mustard yellow, and a rich purple, dragged delicately over the dirty street. Her eyes were tired, the bags beneath them almost matching the colour of her lightweight pants, but she had taken today as her first day off of work since moving to France. She couldn't spend the Saturday sleeping in and losing out on time with her best friend. Penelope walked straight into the hotel lobby as if she belonged there like any other guest and headed to the stairwell. Connor had texted her his room number and it would have been easier to take the elevator, br she had been surviving off butter, sugar, and jam. Besides, walking up the stairs felt exciting since her doctor and parents had banned almost every other physical activity.

"Hi, rock star." Grinning from ear to ear, Penelope mustered up some energy from the vitamin she took upon leaving her place as soon as Connor threw the door open, his hair as light as it had ever been and terribly curly. As if they had a mental countdown between them, they hurried to hug one another - laughing as they did.

"God, I missed you." Hugging her tighter, shaking at her touch, Connor moaned into her ears that were poking him back with her gold conch shell studs his mother had made for her. "You smell like...thyme? Is that thyme?" Chuckling, he asked as she started to slip out of his arms.

Penelope lifted up her arm and smelled her elbow before yanking on the collar of her plain white t shirt and sniffing it next. She was low on laundry. From living on her own, she was learning she hated to do laundry.

"Honestly, I smell like a pantry now. It's just my life." She shrugged, smacking her arms against both her sides. "I brought you something." She raised his brows with peaked interest as she unzipped her purse and reached around into its contents, producing a small jar of mixed berry jam. On the tightly sealed gold label, she had stamped 'Penelope Hemmings Jam' with a small conch shell in black ink.

"Thank you." Connor held it in one hand, admiring her self made label and leaning in to hug her again, using one arm this time.

"So you can taste home wherever you go."

"I have something for you too." He held his hotel room door open wider for her, allowing her in as he stepped through to where his suitcase was resting open on the queen sized bed.

Fidgeting with the fabric of her pants, Penelope looked around and the room and concentrated on nothing. It felt uncomfortable to be alone in his hotel room. Connor was her best friend and they had been countless hotel suites together, but last time they had seen one another they had kissed. She wasn't sure if that had stopped meaning anything or where they were at yet. Over texts neither of them had brought it up.

Penelope leaned her shoulders against the wallpapered stripes and watched him. He looked stronger somehow which made little sense to her as they hadn't been apart very long and she followed his life closely online. Penelope chalked it up to her head. She was trying to learn French and cooking with a permanent concussion, maybe it was making a mess of the way she saw things even a guy she knew better than the instructions to the perfect pancakes.

"Here you go." Standing up straight again, Connor offered her a closed yellow envelope with her nickname written across it in his forever clumsy penmanship. "Four tickets to the show tonight."

"I can't believe I am going to see you live in an arena tonight." Grinning, Penelope took the envelope and then held her arms up above her head to shake them around with wiggling excitement.

Laughing, Connor stepped in to hug her again, picking her up and twirling her around which invited high volume laughter from his favourite girl. He snuggled his face into her neck, breathing in her new scent, but when he went to part his lips slightly and leave a kiss behind he was surprised that she leaned her neck and head away. Connor took the cue and politely put her down on an end corner of the bed.

"So are you best friends with your idol now? Or one of them." Penelope teased while leaning back comfortably onto her flat hands. Everyone knew that as much as he was inspired by the opening act, Ashton Irwin was Connor's truest idol.

"Paul is cool." Humbly, Connor informed her. "He's living up to my expectations, but he definitely is more quiet and distant than I thought he'd be, ya know? With how crazy he is on stage."

"People are full of surprises." She mused even though more often than not, Penelope found herself guessing what was about to happen before it did and being correct. She was a good judge of character and she figured that came from meeting so many people at once constantly as a little girl on tour. One had to learn fast who was good and who was just pretending.

"Like Molly." Connor mused with a wiggle of his brows, sending them under his mess of curls that were someone else's nightly problem now.

"I can't even imagine your Dad's face." Penny shook her head, eyes shut with disbelief. A dedicated cheerleader of a father, Penny imagine her Uncle Ash still hadn't picked up his frown from the floor since finding out Molly had been arrested.

"They were way more upset she was in a relationship and didn't tell them." Honestly, Connor had been bummed out that his sister didn't confide in him either. He laid down on his back on the bed next to Penelope, hanging his legs off the edge.

"He's really hot." Pen mentioned casually. When the news filtered through the many group chats, Emmeline had taken it upon herself to send everyone pictures from the Internet of Molly's rugby beau, Flynn O'Malley. Connor stared at her blankly, absorbing her comment and trying not to expose how much he didn't care for it. It had always been him obsessing over girls and Penelope blowing off the advances of everyone. Connor wasn't sure he had actually ever heard Penny call someone that wasn't on TV hot before. He knew now that it didn't make him feel good.

"I guess." Connor tried to laugh it off, staring at her blond hair from where he laid like it could tell him a thousand secrets. "I got to go to a radio interview and sound check in a little but. How's your French? Can you translate for me?"

"I could, but I'm not going to." There was nothing about a life that mirrored her dad's that interested Penelope. She wanted to stray as far away from living beneath a microscope as she could. Sometimes she considered using one of her middle names or her maiden name in place of ' Hemmings' just so she was less traceable. Penelope knew how much that would hurt her father though. They had talked about it. "People would start rumours I was your girlfriend if I showed up at interviews and your show with you." Penny laughed awkwardly.

He wanted to ask her if that would be so bad, but Connor wasn't sure his singer-songwriter could take the answer, "Is that why you're bringing a bunch of friends tonight? You don't want anyone getting ideas?" He asked instead.

"I'm just proud and I want to show the people I'm close with here to see my best friend and all can do." She was staring down at him with her usual loving eyes, but the sun bleeding through his balcony window illuminated her to look like his own personal angel.

"You're the best." His hand reached to cover hers over the bed as they both shared smiles from one another. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." She had been so busy in her new life that e didn't occupy her thoughts constantly, but once a day when she was sitting on the train or learning a new French phrase, he popped into her mind and lingered.

Connor wanted to pull her down. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and moan how much he craved her over and over into her hair and neck. She was keeping her distance from him though and he knew he would pummel some guy who made her uncomfortable. Connor would never forgive himself if he was that guy.

"You're coming to the party tonight after, right? I want you to meet some people. They hired a bassist for us and he's so dope. He's from South Africa and might be completely insane."

"Can't wait." Penny joked. "I want you to meet my friends too." Along with her, she was bringing some of her petite Paris family that she had naturally put together. Alexandra, Cerise, and Jules. "They're excited to meet you as well. I've been playing your music for anyone who will listen." Her cheeks blushed a mauve tone which felt unnatural since very little made her nervous. "You should probably get ready, huh?" She knew he had a busy day ahead and was just fitting her in for a sliver of time this morning.

Like a child, he whined, "I don't want you to leave." It was the same way he felt when she was packing for France ages ago.

"You got to go be the Connor, the Rock God. I have no choice, I'm just a lowly culinary student." Penny fished her hand out from under his, beginning to slouch her way off of the bed entirely. She still had things to do on her day off as well. Nobody was trying to interview her, but she had research for school and she planned to cut her own hair in the bathroom before going to his concert. Plus she had to go to the open market to pick up more ingredients for homemade jam and salsa. Canning had become a fun past time to do in her tiny kitchen with friends. It was a love second to surfing. Nothing would ever replace a board and waves for Penelope Hemmings, but staying up in her kitchen until 4 in the morning in her pajamas with good music playing and fruit in a pan could tide her over.

"There is nothing lowly about you." He said with great conviction, his eyes screaming his opinion as a promise to her as he took her hand again. "You're the amazing Penelope Hemmings."

After wishing Connor luck, Penelope let herself out of his suite. His lips had tainted her as she said goodbye with their knees knocking. Penelope felt like there were too many things to consider. She was falling in love with her new life and her independence. He was on tour and had always taken up with other girls. She imagined he was meeting so many different bodies now that his career was on it's launching pad. Of course, there was also the new people in her life to think about as well.

As she squeezed between two doormen squabbling in French, Penelope reached into her purse and pulled out a bent thin paperback to read on the subway along with her cell phone in its Australian flag phone case. She had missed two texts from her friend, Cerise. The first one in French and second translated to English. The two girls had paired up on the first day of class and became fast friends over their mutual disdain for the know-it-all guy who sat two stations ahead of them.

"I will see you there." Excitedly, Penelope texted back and tossed her phone back into her purse before heading to her subway stop. Somehow, Cerise had managed to score a brunch reservation at Cafe Lola and it was on Penny's long list of places to eat it mostly because of their lemon curd that was apparently the perfect balance of tart and sweet. Penelope was starving anyway. Today was going to be perfect.

As soon as she pulled the black glass door open to the busy spot, Penny was greeted by cutlery clanking against plates and chatter so frequent that it was just static around her. It reminded her of being in the restaurant kitchen just without the heat and pressure. Penelope loved when she was in the middle of chaos which was strange given how little interest she had in drama. It was just that when she was surrounded by noise and movement she felt closer to the feeling of surfing. She was tranquility in something made without control. It was thrilling.

Her eyes scanned around the room for the vibrant red pixie cut she sat beside every week day in class. Instead, she spotted Jules sitting by himself with a cup of coffee and a kindle in front of him. He was waving at her up high by the time she linked her eyes to him. His smile sent her waking by the hostess stand and through waiting groups of patron.

"Salut, Penelope." He stood up and greeted her with a hug, one hand resting on her back. She loved the way he said her name in Picardy influenced accent. It always sounded like he meant to say 'antelope'.

Penelope kissed around the stubble on his cheek before taking a seat right beside him, the spot across from her vacant for their third.

After exchanging pleasant how are you's en Francais and flagging down a server to order a lemonade for Penny, the Australian-American reached into her purse and retrieved the paperback that she had tucked back in after reading it on the subway. Jules turned off his kindle and moved it to the side, leaning in to give the beautiful girl his full attention.

"I like this one better than The Three Musketeers." She told him, flipping through a couple dry pages of Gaston Leroux's 'Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.' with Penelope being the type desperate for adventures, Jules had assumed she would love The Three Musketeers, but she had texted him somewhere around chapter two giving it five thumbs down emojis. Penny found the page that she had drawn neon orange highlighter marks on with his permission. It was his clever way of helping her with her French. He gave her books to read and asked her to keep track of the words she didn't know. She had gone from requiring him to read her whole pages while she cooked him dinner in her suite to just needing help with a few words every couple pages or so. Penny dragged her nibbled finger nail to the word and tried to read it before noticing Jules was rubbing at his right knee.

"Are you alright?" Even though she could say it French, she said so in her native tongue to better express her concern. Jules would have detected it in the way she leaned in and dropped what she was doing.

"I love that I can still get you with that." Chuckling, Jules tapped at his prosthetic leg and watched Penny relax with a sigh and fix him her meanest mug that was cuter than it was cruel.

They met at the tapas restaurant they both worked at. Jules played piano with the jazz band and met Penny while rushing through the kitchen late for a gig. He had snatched a piece of baguette she was using for a bruschetta platter and found his chin at the tip of her sharp blade until he put it back down onto the surface. It wasn't until she was mixed up with directions on how to get home that they found themselves talking and getting to know one another better. He fit in with her friends from school because he was relaxed and the girls were wild. He had quickly become a very close friend. One of the only people she actually liked talking to about her surfing accident.

"You're a gomer." Her Aussie accent shone as she rolled her eyes at him and leaned back into her book, turning it around to show him the words she was struggling with. She often looked them up on her own, but it was nice to be with a local that she trusted and have him show her better pronunciation and how to use the word.

"Did you have a nice visit with your friend?" Very interested, Jules asked while leaning in and looking at the book he lent her. She was at the part where Christine and Raoul were hiding from the Angel of Music in the roof of the opera house, vowing to protect one another and love each other for eternity.

"Yeah, it was quick. He has press and stuff." Penny shrugged. "But it was really nice to see him. He gave me the tickets for tonight. Thanks again for coming." She liked spending time with Jules and, like her, he had a true appreciation for live music. It wasn't just about screaming and having drinks for him which Penny liked because she detested both.

"This word, bagarre," With a clean fingertip he poked under the word she had highlighted. "It would be like...how do you say?" Jules bit down on his bottom pink lip, a small scar in the middle that she had noticed as soon as they met. "It's like a duel, but less formal. A brawl!" As he was talking, he figured it out. "Raoul would step outside of himself and brawl with them phantom in order to look after Christine if he needed to." Jules didn't even realize that he had begun to use his hands in front of him to explain the story.

"That's what I thought." The rest of the sentence only made sense that way, but it was still helpful to hear her friend say the word aloud. "Bagarre." Penny repeated and celebrated mentally when he shot her a thumbs up, a gesture he liked because it seemed American.

"C'est bon! Oui." Celebrating with her proudly, Jules reached over and squeezed her arm right before her lemonade was set down in front of them. Penny would have watched his hand over her if the server hadn't shown up. She peeled her eyes off of his hands that were strong and worn out from a lifetime of playing music so she could order a tray of pastries for the table. She hadn't forgotten how badly she wanted to try their lemon curd. Penny nodded her head into her shoulder and watched as Jules watched her, the arrival of her French friend who reminded her so much of Emmeline interrupting their sweet, but nervous silence.

"I'm here and I'm hungry." Kissing Jules cheek first, Cerise exclaimed as fast as she could in French before rushing over to greet Penny with a kiss as well. While Cerise put herself together in her spot, stripping off her pink jean jacket and talking about her morning, Penelope watched Jules listen. His side profile was what had caught her gaze and daydreams in the first place. She was confused. He was very much her first real crush from the excitement that tickled her stomach when he texted her to the nerves that took over her mind when he waved 'bonjour' when he saw her at work, but then there was Connor. He had lusted after her for so long, written songs about her, and they kissed before she left in front of so many people. Did she talk to Connor about a long distance relationship or did she keep dreamed about the French jazz musician with eyes that she swore had flecks of 24 karat gold in them.

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

Penelope hadn't been wrong about her day. It started with a tight squeeze from Connor Irwin, followed by pastries that lived up their rave reviews, a little time sitting on a bench in Rene Binet garden with Jules, both of them reading their respective books while wishing they brought sweaters. Autumn was fast approaching. She went home in a dream-like state, having a little cheese and jam while cutting her split ends in front of her perpetually foggy bathroom mirror.

She wasn't used to the confusion that seemed to swirl in her brain like creamer freshly poured into morning coffee. She felt like a moron the way her mind was drifting between imagining a hectic life that mirrored her parents with Connor Irwin and an easy melody with Jules where they could cook, dance, and create together. Penelope used to roll her eyes when her friends would stress about boys, but she was reading her textbook with her French to English dictionary on her bed and wondering what Connor's mouth between her knees would feel like it if the way Jules said her name would feel as good as it sounded.

She was thankful when Alexandra texted her that she was on her way so they could get ready for the concert together. The two girls who worked in the male dominated kitchen could gab together about other topics. Alexandra dreamed of running her own catering business in the South of France, only working for the most elite events, and her dreams helped Penelope figure out where she wanted to take her new skills. So far, Penelope Hemmings just really liked making jams and salsa. It wasn't exactly a launchpad for a real career.

Once in her favorite sweater, a blue and white check pattern that her Grandma Christie from her mother's side sent her, and slipped into a very worn out pair of black jeans, Penelope was ready to spend the night with both boys who were holding the logical side of her brain captive. She rested her butt on the edge of her claw foot bath tub and braided her friends hair, breathing in the third cigarette Alexandra had lit in the last fifteen minutes.

"I listened to your friend's music the whole way here." The older girl spoke after her drawn out inhale, her thick almost black hair being massaged by Penny's nimble fingers. "I don't know him, but does he write about you? I felt like his songs, some of them, they were about you." Alexandra had obviously figured out that the tune 'Penny and Me' was all about her new beach loving friend.

"I think so." Forever modest, Penelope explained. They didn't have a deep enough friendship yet for her to be forthcoming. They usually just talked food and work. "We grew up together, you know? Our dads are best friends, they were in the same band. I don't think I had a day without Connor until I was, like, four." It was a slight exaggeration, but they did spend more days together than apart for most of their early years. It wasn't until they grew into preteens that they started to choose to run in the same circle.

"It sounds like he loves you." Alexandra let the cigarette smoke curl upward as she glanced behind her to inform Penny. She wanted to see her reaction even if it was lackluster. "Do you love him?" She inquired as soon as she turned her head again.

"I didn't think we were going to talk about guys..." Nervously, Penny chuckled back. "Weren't you going to give me a recipe for some kind of bore entree?" Penelope was obsessed and wanted to soak in all the different techniques and meals she could.

"I will." She rolled her eyes. They worked together, there was time to teach the blond how to make a bore lasagna. "Do you love him or do you still have, what do you call them, giggly eyes for the drummer?" Alexandra had been working with Jules since she was hired over a year ago. He didn't ever register in her world though until she investigated who the guy walking Penny home every night was even on the evenings he didn't work. Girls had to stick together and look out for one another, she figured.

"Googly eyes!" Loudly laughing with her head back and her blond hair falling to the dimples above her butt, Penelope taught her. She supposed that giggly eyes still described her as well. "I don't know, Alex. I wish I did. I've never been in this situation before."

"Wait!" Letting her second braid come completely undone as she yanked it from Penelope's hand, Alex looked up with an enlarged stare and almost blew smoke right into Penelope's almost nude face. "You're a virgin?!" It was a real plot twist for Alex. She just assumed that the daughter of an Australian rock star with legs as long as pi in its entirety would have banged out a boyfriend and a few wild strangers in-between.

"No more. I'm not talking about this." Penelope drew her line in the sand. She readjusted her almost straight hips on the bath tubs edge and took to her friends hair again. The girl who was once known for how laid back and chill she was (like ice cubes in a finished glass of iced tea) was flustered and embarrassed. She felt like every time she entered a different room in Paris she was finding a different part of herself. It was the biggest adventure of all and she was not impressed with it.

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

She was blaming it on her busy mind, but Penelope felt lost in the crowd during Connor's act at the Paul Shimnowski Band concert. She had no idea how many concerts that she had attended in her entire life, all of them she had loved, but this one she wanted to sit out. She had arrived so excited with her hair falling Cher style down her back and her phone ready to take a hundred pictures a second. Instead, she felt the headaches that she suffered randomly since her accident come on the moment she was a part of the large crowd in the concession areas. She followed Alexandra and Cerise, staying next to Jules as they squeezed through to find their floor seats. Maybe, it was because all of Connor's shows she had attended up until this point had been small venues, local ones that she had seen other decent and not-so-good bands in. This was a stadium. This was the kind of show she grew up watching her Dad put on, but of course, more folksy. The smell of weed lead the vibe of the entire show. She usually danced freely at Connor's shows. She was his biggest fan and former number one merch girl after all. She would raise her tanned arms above her space buns and turn her body in every direction she could without colliding with anyone, but not tonight. Tonight, she hugged her chest and watched her friend with a tight lipped smile. The kind that silently shouted, 'I am not okay'.

Connor looked every bit like his father with his mom's chin and jawbone. Somehow he managed to hone his mother's poise and grace while still embodying his father's goofiness and charm. It made it hard to pull your attention away from him when he was practically making out with the microphone and his hands were massaging the instrument he was playing, seducing the crowd by gyrating to his own songs. It could not be denied, as far as Penelope could see, Connor belonged to the stage. He always said he was born to play music for the world and she hadn't ever doubted him. Now she knew that nobody would be able to. The crowd around her was reasonably new to Connor. He had been relatively unknown outside of Sydney until Paul Shimnowski took him on tour, but she could hear over 5,000 other voices singing along to the song, 'Slipping Away', a ballad he wrote about her, about being with someone else and wishing he was with her, a song that Penelope had heard over a hundred times, but she couldn't remember any of the lyrics. Her head knew the words, her mouth was well acquainted with them, but her brain refused to connect them to her memory. It even struck her as a surprise when he whispered her name into the microphone, singing out loud how he felt clearly, 'Penelope she sleeps so soundly, somewhere in her bathing suit...'. She had heard the line before, even recalling the first time he played the song for her in his parent's backyard while she scratched at one of his big dog's ears, but the words were lost in the fog her head produced.

To her left, looking for sanctuary, Penny looked over at Jules by her side. He was standing still, just watching Connor with a contented look blanketed by a blue glow coming from the stage they were near to. She moved her attention down to the military green chinos he was wearing. She could see at the bottom of one pant leg the fabric outlined his metal prosthetic. He had opted to wear it over his one that better resembled a limb for reasons she knew not to be her business. The sight of his prosthetic, though covered, was a source of comfort to Penny and she leaned into him, knocking her arm against his and gaining his attention for herself.

“You're the Penelope, right?” Jules asked right in her ear, still saying her name how he knew it to be pronounced and not how Connor had just sung it. He had found her to be a small recurring theme in Connor Irwin's songs especially the sappier ones.

“Indeed.” She brought both palms to her chin as if to frame her face for him before laughing gently. “Connor invited me to an after party. Do you want to come?” She knew Alexandra couldn't because she worked in the morning and Cerise was all, but seething that she couldn't because she had obligations with her own boyfriend and his very religious family that attended church every Sunday.

“I'm going back to the restaurant.” Jules explained with a half-frown. Music was his life, just like it was Connor's, and even though he would gladly take any night off for a concert or if Penelope needed him to, he loved going to see his friends play and always wanted to find an opportunity to jump in and jam. He knew he wouldn't make it to the place they both worked at until nearly 11 pm, but he also knew that his seat behind the kit would always be warm and welcoming to him.

“I didn't know.” Penny shrugged. She didn't know which event she wanted to be at more, Connor's after party or her work where Jules would be playing with the rest of the jazz group. She felt obligated to Connor's since she had agreed to be there that morning.

“You'll be okay?”

“Oh yeah, I'll be fine. I just thought it would be fun for you to come too.” She knew it would be. He was a simple calmness that her life was missing. He chased adventures and liked new experiences as much as she did, but Jules was older by a year and needed time to lay in bed and relax. He forced Penelope to just slow down sometimes.

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

Still hugging her chest, Penny waited backstage against a cold white brick wall that she had once leaned against before as a three year old, waiting with a stomach ache for her Aunt Grace to take her back to the hotel for a medicine and a long nap. The way her Uncle Michael told the story was that she ate too much stinky French cheese and threw up everywhere, but the truth was just simply that she had a terrible stomach ache and both her parents were working their respective on-the-road jobs.

Penelope waited behind hoards of people. Some speaking French, but most gabbing back and forth in slang English. She wasn't invisible, eyes looked her up and down, but no one engaged with her, so she kept to herself. In her purse, she still had her copy of The Phantom of the Opera if she really needed it. From over top of a small balding man and very angry looking woman, she spotted Connor's sweat slicked forehead. Penny stepped forward in a lunge movement and waved. He was in the middle of being spoken to by two people at once, but as soon as Connor spotted her, he dove between his new manager and a label executive to talk to her.

“You were out of this world!” With delight and honesty, she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck as he twirled her around.

“You're here.” He moaned against her cheek with a smile that almost broke free from the confines of his face. “You're stunning!” Connor was never light on compliments around his favorite Hemmings, but since they kissed, he felt better about always saying how he felt and right now he felt that she was the most beautiful girl he had seen all day. “Where are your friends?” He looked around, certain that he had given Penelope more than enough passes to come see him backstage without any hassle.

“They all have cooler lives than me.” She excused, as if going to an after party for a concert wasn't anything to write home about. “You're stuck with just me.”

“I'll take you.” Connor threw his arm around Penny and started to walk her closer to the people he now shared his life with. “What did you think of the show?” Her opinion was the only one that truly mattered to him.

“I think you look like a young Ashton Irwin. It was so bizarre.” Penelope tapped both her cheeks with her open palms as she looked up at Connor. “Like, I'm not sure if you're my Uncle or not.”

“Don't be sick.” He playfully shoved her away just to pull her back with the same arm he draped around her like a useless scarf. “Did you like some of the new stuff? I'm just constantly trying out new material. Paul thinks it's the best way to figure out new music, play it live in front of as many people as you can and gage the reaction.”

“It was cool. You're getting kind of Dylan-ish.” Well acquainted in the world of music even though she didn't feel like she had much artistic talent herself, Penny critiqued him. “But like both his eras, you know? Folk and electric. I dig it.”

“Awesome.” Connor tightened his arm around her, bringing her in closer for a hug. He led her into his dressing room where his two best music buddies from back home were packing up their instruments. “I'm just going to get changed. You cool to hang with the guys?” He asked, but Penelope had already escaped his grip and was sitting on a coffee table next to a bowl of pretzels, talking to the guys she knew from spending all her free time at the Wax 'n' Wake by the beach back in Sydney. Connor watched as she easily made herself fit into any room effortlessly. He wondered if his new schedule would change how he felt for her, but his feelings were strong as ever. She was still the image that waltzed through his mind when he was working on new music or the voice he wished he could hear after a particularly challenging day.

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

Outside, where the air was crispy through a hollow wind that was announcing October was just days away, Penelope was dressed perfectly in her cozy sweater and jeans. Inside of the club, she was cooking like one of her first attempts at baklava. It turns out hotter doesn't always make something cook faster. Penny excused herself from the booth that Connor and his ban were occupying, squeezing her way past two very drunk and very French girls to make it to the stairs. She didn't realize that Connor was following behind her until she almost slapped his face off by whipping the smoking door open and shut.

"Are you okay?" Once outside, relief from the heat and noise greeted Penny. She moved away from the group of smokers huddled by the door and stood out in the open, admiring the street lamp between limp orange leaves in the trees. "I didn't know you were behind me."

"It's okay. I didn't need my nose anyway." Wiggling it theatrically at her, Connor teased. "Are you doing okay?" He never quite knew where she stood on parties and clubs. She was a teetotaller which changed her experience from other people throwing back shots and sipping on mixed drinks. Even before her accident, Penelope didn't have any desire to drink. Still, Connor remembered Penelope as a staple at almost every beach bonfire or high school party he went to. She was always there with her usual cooler than the rest smile and the straps of her bathing suit top poking out of a neckline.

"Yeah, I just couldn't breathe." Fresh air had become a requirement in Penelope's recovery. She spent her first few lunch hours at school walking outside around the building, breathing in the air, and she liked to keep a window of her bachelor suite open at all times. It helped her keep her mind clear or, at least, she felt like it did. "You seem really in your element. I can tell you're happy." It was nice to not have to check. With her brothers and Emmeline, she had to check, but Connor's joy stretched through him. It practically screamed into a room.

"I'm even happier that you're here." Connor moved in close just as Penny was lifting up her arms to tie back all her hair, allowing a cool breeze onto her neck and her small chest to press against his. He had no complaints about the movement. "I wish I had more time here. You could show me around or I could see your apartment." He tightened his hands together behind her back, right where her dimples were. "We don't have a day off til Lyon and I'm assuming you wouldn't skip school on Tuesday to hang out there with me."

She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking, "As much as I plan to go there, no way." If she missed a day of school, she missed an entire lesson. Culinary school was fast and Penelope wasn't as whip smart as she used to be. She really had to focus now where she could slack off before. "No." She finished the same sentiment. Somehow, and she wasn't quite sure how, Penelope's hands had left her hair and were both laying flat against his chest which made him flex out of insecurity.

"I understand." He nuzzled his head closer to hers, making their conversation private from even the prying ears of the breeze around. "We will just have to take advantage of tonight then." It was only half past eleven anyway. Connor kissed her forehead and then her cheek. It felt safe and comforting. Penelope felt drawn in, but stepped back anyway.

"Do you want to just go and hang out in my hotel room?" Connor asked and tried to follow her eyes that she was now hiding from him. It wasn't the first time someone had asked Penny back up to their room, but it was the first time she was tempted to agree.

"Connor -" She sighed out his name with frustration. It confused him even though she meant to direct it at herself. Penny had a hand on her forehead and her heart in her throat. "Con, I don't know what to do." He was her best friend and she didn't want to start keeping secrets from him now.

"We don't have to go to the hotel. I didn't mean that in a pressure filled way." Right away, he hurried to defend himself. "We could just, like, catch up or watch TV."

"No, I'm not upset about that." She assured, her hand still massaging sat her temple. "I like you. There's a part of me lately that would love to go back to your hotel room." Enlarging Connor's pupils she surprised him. He instantly cleared his throat and fidgeted his arms at the sound that she had thought about being with him. "There's a part of me that thinks nobody could ever see me the way you do, but..."

"But?" He was stunned she could follow both those reveals with a 'but' and his voice showed it.

Penelope stared at him, her hands finally both at her side, as she tried to read her own racing thoughts. They were four steps apart from one another and Penelope swore she could hear his nerves beating beneath the thin material of his black shirt, "I like someone else too." Like it was a sin, she admitted it, flicking the words out from behind her teeth at his frozen face with the tip of her tongue.

It was obvious he was disappointed as his head instantly fell and a few of his lazily tamed tangles of hair fell free. Penelope figured other girls might apologize in this situation, but she didn't. She made a point not to just apologize unless she was sorry and she was not sorry for how she felt for either Connor or Jules. It was nearly autumn, the wind was cold, but she was slowly burning in the parking lot with Connor almost on fire just steps away from her. Their silence was aching and she could hear it's melody like someone slamming on out of tune piano keys.

"It's that guy in your photos?" It took Connor a minute, but eventually he figured it out. He followed Penny's photo page online closely and the only two photos he hadn't liked was one of her in her white coat at work sitting with Jules in the walk in freezer of the restaurant and the other was just of Jules eating her jam with a large spatula on her balcony. Every other picture, he laughed and admired before giving it a heart tap.

Penelope only nodded in response. She wanted to be truthful, not hurt him.

"The guy with one leg?" It was obvious to Connor that the picture of them in the freezer, Jules in shorts, that he had a prosthetic limb.

"Yeah. His name is Jules." She didn't know if Connor would want that detail, but it came out of her anyway.

"You brought him to the show?!" For a second, Connor felt stung, but he puffed out his chest as he told himself that he had put on a great set. "Wait, he's the drummer at your restaurant." It was coming together quickly now that Connor had the perimeter of the puzzle pieced. He remembered in one of their earlier phone conversations that Penny had mentioned she made friends with a musician, a drummer at the place she was working at, and he was going to show her around Paris. Connor had felt jealous initially, but when she never brought him up again he figured that it was nothing. "He's a musician." He didn't like that for some reason. Maybe it was because he didn't want to have anything in common with her crush or it was because he felt threatened. Connor was on tour and this guy worked with Penny night after night.

"I've never known you to be into somebody." And he had known Her forever even when went through a phase where she wore a lollipop body mist that made her smell like sugar cane. Connor was flabbergasted. "I really thought tonight was going to go different. Honestly, I thought we would just pick up where we left off." Connor really did imagine Penelope's hand in his and the two of them kissing backstage, their young blood rushing around as she finally let herself be with him.

"You want to be together while you're flying around the world?" It was Penelope's time to be surprised though she supposed she shouldn't be because Connor was always fanciful and believed in fairy tales. They were different that way.

"Yeah. Why is that so bizarre?" She had a crooked smile on and her head was posed to the side, asking him to be real.

"It would never work." Penny had gone over the situation in her head plenty of times. She was in school and couldn't visit him whenever and he was on tour and couldn't stop by Paris whenever he felt like it. They could never be there for one another. Right now they were too restricted. Plus, she didn't know Connor to resist the attention and affection of girls who were fans of his music.

"And it's different with Jewel - ?"

"Jules." She corrected before he could continue.

"He plays music too. What is it just because he wasn't good enough to tour?"

"Okay, easy, you're not David Bowie." Penny pointed out with her face holding a frown. She really didn't want to upset Connor, she just didn't want to lead him on either. "And Jules is really talented. There's a lot of talented undiscovered people, you know that!" It wasn't that long ago that he had been recording music in his bathroom and wishing someone would give it half a listen. "I really like both of you." She didn't even know if Jules had any feelings for her, she just knew thinking about him made her feel like there was a ticking time bomb inside of her.

"He has one leg!" Connor laughed as he raised his voice.

"So?" She couldn't believe he was bringing that up so she made sure to narrow her eyes into him and step closer, letting him know just how crazy she thought he was being. "You have dirty blond hair." She said to try and show him how moot his point had been.

"Well, come on, Pen, what's so special about him? I've never known you to be into someone."

"He gets it."

"It? Gets what?" Connor squinted to better follow her. "I get you."

"He gets what it's like to have your whole world change from an accident." Sighing, Penelope told him with some embarrassment. She hated having to admit that things were different for her now.

"Wait..." He put up both his hands and waved them in front of himself as if it helped him understand what she was saying. "You have a crush on him because he's disabled?"

"Okay, fuck you." Penelope said it like she was wishing him good luck. It was simple and sincere. On her toes, she moved forward to rush away. She didn't know where she was and she couldn't remember where Montemare was from where they were standing, but in that moment, she thought being lost would be better than arguing with someone she trusted to never hurt her. Her blond hair whipped behind her like a reptiles tail as she stalked away. She could hear Connor's voice painfully calling her name, pleading, as his feet shuffled closer. Penny inhaled deeply and ignored her instinct to keep walking when she spun around. Their chests were so close to colliding that, out of reflex, Connor jumped back.

"You being cheesed right now is so hypocritical!" She threw her hands down in fists as she shouted into him. "I like both of you a lot, yeah, that sucks, but you dated your way through your yearbook in high school while writing songs about me the whole time!" In case e had forgotten, which he hadn't, Penny reminded him with one large breath.

"I didn't think I had a chance with you." With Penny, she was a mermaid-like angel and, around her, he was just a human with all his flaws. Connor softened, guilt leaking into his previously burning throat, Penny wasn't finished though. He had crossed a line and poked a button. He had never seen her so wound up before and he hated that it was him who had made her feel so awful. He wished now that he could step back five minutes into the past and try to handle his emotions differently.

"You know your parents and their perfect freaking marriage that you're lusting after? You are never going to have it if you don't like yourself on your own first. I was figuring out who I was then I had my accident and I had to figure myself out all over again. I'm not going to apologize for not having time to be your girlfriend and groupie because I was too busy figuring out who I was!" Her own impulsive foolishness had ripped memories and cognitive skills from her and Penelope was very proud of how hard she worked to become someone she liked again.

Connor has never heard Penelope raise her voice. Any time she had been cross before, she played it off cool as a cuke. He had seen her unleash a little on her younger brothers before, not him. It stung and Connor wanted to sit down on the curb and cry. Instead, he ran all his fingers through his hair aggressively holding the ends down and trying to keep from coming undone in front of her.

"Alright, so let's pretend there's no Jules. It's just you and me, you still wouldn't believe we could do it while I'm touring?" He couldn't change Penelope's heart. If she had feelings for two people than Connor couldn't yell at her until he got his way. "No chance?"

"I just don't see...how." Down at the tips of her scuffed up white canvas shoes, she said quietly before looking up to notice how little he cared for her response.

"Why?" Thrusting his chin forward, he asked assertively. "What? You think I'm going to be like your Dad?"

"What?"

"You think I'm going to stay out all night and get fucked up? You think I'll get caught with hookers -"

"That was a rumor and you fucking know it!" Like they were guitar strings, he was playing with her nerves now.

"Whatever. You think I'm going to cheat and not come home just like him."

"He didn't cheat on my Mom!" Penelope growled. She had asked her mom point blank once if he had and she promised that he never did.

"You're still the same little girl who got teased in kindergarten because her dad was in the papers and on TV! You are scared of being happy with me because of my job. Admit it!" Connor huffed at the end. He was out of breath as it has run away with his mouth. Neither of them were used to behaving this way especially with each other. "Penny, what I should have said -"

"Get fucked, you gomer." She didn't let him correct himself. Penny dragged her spiteful glance away from him and began to walk away. She figured she would walk until she was on a Main Street and then take the last subway home. Her emotions were so heightened that she couldn't think straight. Penelope stiffened up her mouth and fought with herself before taking her low battery phone out of her purse and calling her mom. She didn't know what she would say, but she hoped it would center her. It was almost ten in the morning back home on the next day, she assumed her mom would be up running errands or getting breakfast with friends.

She nearly broke into tears when she heard the groggy voice of a freshly awaken Luke Hemmings pick up. It played back every horrible thing that her best friend had just said. Penelope pulled her face away from the phone and checked that she had actually clicked on her mom's name.

"Penny? You okay?" Luke checked the time on his wife's phone as he had reached over her side to pick it up. She was in the shower. "Penny, its like midnight there. " He forgot that she was going to Connor's show that night.

"Dad, I'm lost." She hated admitting defeat. Her frustration with herself was evident.

All at once, Luke panicked, but he chose to take a deep breath and follow the advice of Penelope's doctor and therapist. He couldn't always spring into hero mode. He had to let her learn.

"Okay, that's okay. Can you call an uber to where you are?" He inquired, sitting up and adjusting his wife's pillow behind his back for support.

"I think I'm in a park. We went to a club to celebrate after Connor's show and...and I left..."

"Without your friends?" He didn't hide that he didn't like that.

"It's a long story, Dad." Her sigh was long and held its exasperation until the end. "I know that I'm in Passy which is, like, less than a half hour by car to my place." He was glad Penny knew that because he neighborhoods of Paris were simply French words to him. "The subway station is by Radio France." She didn't know why she knew that, but at some point someone had mentioned that to her and it stuck in her brain. "I don't know how to get there."

"Walk North, Penny." Luke coached her while reaching around to find his phone somewhere in the bed sheets. It was right beneath his pillow. He pulled open Google and began to search on the map for Radio France. Once he had the address, he opened up his GPS app that he used to track all three of his forever wandering children. He found Penelope quickly and changed what he told her, "I'm sorry, Penny, turn around and go straight. I'll stay on the phone til you get to the subway or in a cab." He didn't prefer either. Luke just wished he could drive her around himself.

"Thanks, Dad. I knew where I was and then I couldn't remember. It's been really good though until now." She had Jules to walk her home from work, but she really didn't need him to anymore. She just loved being alone with the drummer and all the tattoos that decorated his arms like lights and bulbs on Christmas tree.

"Are you alright? You could go back to the club and get a car."

"Yeah." Hearing his voice was giving her something positive to focus on. It made her feel closer to home even though they were just over the phone. "Maybe, I should. I just want to be home."

"You will be on December 24th." Luke reminded her while laying back down, feeling calmer now that she did.

"I meant my apartment."

"I know, I'm just teasing. We miss you." He told her that almost every day. "You close to the club?" He couldn't tell that on his phone app.

"Yeah, like, a minute away."

"Just take an Uber, Pen. I will wire you some money."

"I'm fine for money, Dad." Penelope was very proud of the fact that she supported herself. She could never be like her friends who lived off their parents back accounts. Still, Luke always helped her. It was one of the only ways he felt like he could help her from so far away. "I'm here. I'm at the club." She was standing right in the back parking lot where she and Connor acted like children fighting for no reason, but because their emotions demanded it. Connor wasn't there anymore and she assumed he had gone inside with his heart racing and hands playing with his hair.

"Okay. You feel okay?" He didn't want to patronize her and ask her to do some of her memory exercises, so Luke found a more vague way to investigate.

"I'll be fine." She wasn't about to vent to him about how Connor hurt her heart.

"Okay. Love you, Pen. Call anytime." He always reminded her that she could.

"Dad?" Penny didn't want him to hang up just yet.

"Yeah?"

Sometimes, to help her recollection, Penelope would walk herself backwards through her day until she was the place she needed to remember. Right now, she was in the parking lot where Connor made her feel as small as Daphne Hood was.

"You were a good Dad. I know you were away a lot, but I still liked having you as a Dad." Penny nodded and swallowed hard, telling herself as much as she was telling him.

"Thanks." Luke ignored that she used past tense and softened. He had been criticized harshly by people who knew him and many who didn't, so hearing from one of the kids he raised that he earned a passing grade was as comforting as the blanket he was half beneath. "I love being your Dad." He informed her as she approaches the first cars outside of the front of the dance club.

"I'm going to go. Goodnight. Well, morning." Once he said goodbye back, Penelope hung up and put her phone back into its bag.

In an effort to save money and work out some of her conflicting thoughts, Penelope requested for the Uber driver to drop her off on the same block as the place she worked at. It was only a ten minute stroll to her home from there and she wanted to stop in to check her upcoming schedule for the rest of the month.

Penelope squeezed in through the kitchen door where four line cooks were smoking and swearing about the busy night they were in the middle of. When the band came on and the cocktail specials were announced was when people started to pour in. It was a very popular after hours spot for their strong drinks and a generous tapas.

Penny wiped off her shoes on the rubber mat and went to the wall by the office. She could hear the music playing, almost recognizing the staccato song playing. Right away though, Penny knew Jules wasn't on the drums. She checked to make sure she was given the day off before her upcoming exam and then forged forward through the boiling and hectic kitchen. Her eyes checked over moving shoulders as she glanced at different meals being prepared or plated. There was always an opportunity for her to learn. All around her, she heard her name and greeting. She felt better already. This was her makeshift home, this was her out of town family.

She moved closer and closer to the perpetually swinging door that separated the fun loving atmosphere for the dining room and jazz club from the stresses out sweat and swear zoo that was the kitchen. As soon as she had curled one hand around it to push it partially open, a waitress she recognized as Ismay flew by with an empty tray and an annoyed expression that could staple itself into anyone's mind. Penny glanced around the busy room and found Jules right away, sitting on a bar stool with an old fashioned and keeping the beat of the song with his hand on his knee. Due to enjoying the band, he swung slightly on his chair and waved over his head almost as soon as he spotted Penelope. He thought about nodding at her to join him, but it struck him as odd that she had left her friend's party and he could tell that something had happened. She was wearing a face he hadn't seen on her before and, while he thought she was ethereally beautiful, he did not particularly care for it. So Jules carefully hopped off the stool and moved to her. Penelope came out of the kitchen entirely, standing behind the bar in her casual wear.

"Why did you leave?" Jules inquired, leaning into the small bar door that came up to his waist and kept them apart. "Were you not having fun with celebrities?" He couldn't resist teasing her, wiggling his brows as he asked. Jules was not impressed by fancy things and name brands. He grew up with a single mother and modest means between himself and his older sister. He played music and worked as a doorman at Le Royal Monceau. Sure, he had dreams, but he was never impressed by anyone who flashed their success and wealth around. Jules just wanted to be happy right before he fell asleep at night.

"No." Penny sighed and rolled her eyes halfway at the thought of it. "It was weird. I'm going to home now, I just needed to check the schedule."

"Want a walking buddy?" It was a term she had coined for him around the third time he escorted her back to her apartment.

"No. I got it." She was worried about getting lost again, but Penelope really did want to be by herself.

"Okay. Well I'll see you...mercredi?" He could never remember the days of the week in English. Jules hoped to see her before, but he knew that was when they would both be working together. He had picked up the habit of checking her schedule.

"Yeah." Penny promised. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight. Did you like the show?" She realized she hadn't asked after the concert.

"Yeah, it was good. Both acts were good." He admitted while waving his hand back and forth to gesture that they were really just 'okay'. Jules wasn't a big fan of folk or pop music. He grew up on jazz and classic since that was what his grandfather that they lived with played. He was the man who taught Jules everything about rhythm and built him his first drum kit. "It was weird watching someone be so in love with you in front of all those people." He half-laughed through his awkward honesty. "Did you two date?" She had always just referred to Connor as her closest friend, but the performance has all three of Penelope's French friends wondering if they had once been more.

"No." She shook her head and reached around to tighten her ponytail. "We kissed once." She said and instantly wish she hadn't. She looked down into her purse to check the time on her phone noticing that it barely had any battery life yet. She was sitting at an uncomfortable 3%. Penny missed that Jules scrunched up his nose at what she said.

"Do you like him?"

Penny puffed both her cheeks out and let them deflate with a long exhale at his question, zipping her bag back and wondering for a second if her feelings for Connor had changed after their fight.

"I have." Realizing it was a strange way to answer, Penny shrugged. "We sort of fought at the club and we've never fought before." Penny explained to Jules, wrapping her fingers around the bar door again. "I don't know."

"What did you fight about? Was it bad?" He wished his English was better or that her French was more extensive in times like these. Jules felt like he couldn't be as good a companion to her when their was a language barrier between them. He didn't realize his hands had curls over hers, but Penny had and she could not stop looking at them.

"It was just bad because it had never happened before." She spoke directly to their hands. "I hurt his feelings and then he hurt mine back." She supposed that she really just described every fight throughout history, but she wasn't quite feeling as smart as usual tonight.

"What did you say?" In a joking manner, Jules scolded her. He narrowed his eyes in and shook his head very slowly.

"You really want to know?" She asked before realizing that she didn't know if she wanted to honestly tell him.

"Of course." Jules laughed and squeezed her fingers under his tenderly. He couldn't imagine her saying anything that he couldn't handle. His bet was that they just misunderstood one another or that her friend was too drunk to think before speaking.

Penelope tightened her throat which made Jules chuckle at how strange it looked and she tried to come up with a lie. She tried to reason with herself and remember how to be the cool girl that she was known as back home on the beaches of Sydney.

"I told him..." Penny looked up into Jules eyes, but that made the truth harder to share somehow. "I told him...I said...well..." She was embarrassed by how tongue tied she felt and just spat it out, "I told him I like somebody else too."

"Okay." Like it was nothing, Jules accepted with a casual smirk that shrugged above his chin. "So he feels a little crushed. Anybody I know? Someone in your classes?"

"You." She had come this far. There wasn't much point in beating around the bush now. Penny sometimes wondered how different things would be with Connor if he had come out and admitted to liking her instead of just trying to tell her through poetry.

Jules hands loosened on hers and his eyes lightened as he gave her a smile she interpreted as pitying.

"Okay, so I'm going to go jump in front of a car." Penelope uttered a sentence she had heard Emmeline say a dozen times before when she didn't get her way. The words didn't feel right in her mouth, but she pushed open the bar door and tried to squeeze past him. Jules tugged on her wrist, but she yanked it away.

"Penelope! Penelope!" He chased her through the kitchen. After she pushed open the back door, she turned and stopped him from going outside with her. He looked concerned and as if his mouth was full of a hundred things to say.

"Don't. It's okay!" She put up her hand to stop him from coming closer or uttering a word. "Cause I like you both and I don't know what to do. So you don't have to say anything and make it more weird." She really needed to work on her eloquence.

"Can I, please, walk you home?" Jules genuinely wanted to and took her hand in his to try and make that clear.

"I'll text you when I'm there." Penelope just assumed he felt obliged to make sure she was safe. She took her hand back and ran into the night, his eyes watching until she became a dot as dark as the sky was.

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

After plugging her phone in and taking a pear from her bottom fridge door, Penny ran a hot bath. She soaked in the bubble free water and watched her skin grow red from the heat. It was comforting and removed how perplexed, hurt, and rejected she felt. Penelope only ate half of her pear before her stomach couldn't bare anymore. She felt too upset and her stomach couldn't handle another bite. Once she was starting to drift off into sleep, she rose out of the bath tub and drained the dirty water. Penelope wrapped herself in her favorite multi-color striped beach towel from back home and picked up her phone from in the dry sink since she used it as a DIY speaker for the Soft Cell songs she was playing to drown out the furious pain from the evening. She noticed that she had four texts and read them as she dried off.

"I'll be in Paris soon. MAKE TIME FOR ME AND ROMANCE MY PALE ASS!!!" Emmeline sent with a string of bright coloured emojis that had nothing to do with her sentiment.

"Are you home safe? You didn't text." Jules wrote about twenty minutes after she arrived at her building.

"I'm really sorry, Pen. :(" Connor had sent around the same time as Jules.

However, Penelope only concentrated on her dad's message.

"Your mum and I are really proud of you. Nice to start the morning with your voice."

Once dry, she put on a pair of sweats and a stained 5SOS shirt from their first headlining tour way before she was born and slept on her futon. She was exhausted so she didn't even bring it down from its couch form. Penelope texted no one and fell asleep wondering where her perfect day went.

#5sos au #5sos series #5sos imagine #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #penelope hemmings

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