by The Paperbag Princess (c. 1997-98)

Why was I in New York again? It was just last week when I was here with the Charms, and now I’m back with Oasis. So why had I agreed to shoot the Nuerotic Outsiders show tonight? I’d rushed from the Video Music Awards with Oasis to the club where NO was playing, and had barely set up my cameras when they came on stage. John had caught my eye and smiled a few times, and I remembered why I’d agreed to do this show. The power of that grin. But I was too tired to fight through the backstage hassle, even for that charming John Taylor smile, and went back to the hotel to collapse.

The phone rang, as expected, about an hour after I got into the room. "Yes?"

"You didn’t come to the aftershow!" John was horrified, and I laughed.

"I’m tired, Johnny, sorry."

"Did I wake you? I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do the show, if you’re too tired."

Oasis never apologized. I should stop doing that. They weren’t a collective unit. There was Noel, and Liam... and the other guys. Liam never apologized.

"No, I wanted to." Because you have the dreamiest smile...

"Can we do breakfast tomorrow, then? When do you leave?"

"Early. You can come now, if you can bear me without make-up."

"Gladly. I’ll just stay a bit, promise."

He was there in minutes, with a smile that fell from his face as soon as he saw me. "Em! What the hell happened?"

Alright, exhaustion wasn’t the only thing that kept me from the aftershow. "Long story." I stepped back to let him into my room, and he shut the door behind him, still staring at me.

"What?"

"Last night, I was down in the pit taking pictures and this fucker stage dove directly into me. Slammed me into the stage. I cracked my head on the rim of the stage, hence the black eye." He just shook his head at me, empathy in his eyes. I knew I looked terrible, I hated being reminded of it. "Look, you can tell I was holding my Nikon." Pressing my arms together, I extended them to him. One could see the outline of the lens on my forearms. You could see the rest on my chest, but I wasn’t going to show him that.

"Oh, Emmie..." He examined my arms, then reached out to touch my cheek gently.

"I’ll be fine. I went to the doctor, and she said all I can do is rest."

"It must hurt."

Shrugging, I looked down, and he tilted my chin up to look into his eyes. He had such kind, warm eyes, I just wanted to fall into them and never leave. Before I realized what was happening, he kissed me, surprising himself as much as me, I think.

It was a lovely kiss, warm and gentle, but I stepped away from him. "Oh, that’s a bad idea."

"Is it?" He reached for me again, that charming smile dancing on his lips, and I had to look away. This was a bad idea. It was.

"We’re good friends, John. Six months ago, I might have fallen into your arms, but now I’d rather be friends." There are a million other reasons, but please accept just this one right now.

Crossing his arms against his chest, he considered me, finally sighing. "You’re probably right. I would invariably fuck up and we’d lose the friendship."

Laughing, I sat on the couch. "Oh, the way my life is going right now, it would most definitely be my fault. Let’s not take the chance."

He settled on the couch next to me. "Wise woman. So, what happened to the guy that caused all that damage to your lovely face?"

"I broke his hand." I lit a cigarette, smiling as John laughed at my statement.

"Seriously?" He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or impressed.

"Oh, yeah. I took self-defense classes, I just whirled around and stomped on his hand. I was actually aiming for his foot, but he’d fallen down when he crashed into me. I would have felt bad, but he was a total asshole. Liam nearly killed him." Tapping the ash into the ashtray next to my elbow, I met John’s eyes. He’d just kissed me! Why am I acting so goddamn normal?

Oh, the girls are going to love this one.

"Protecting your honor?" Honor? Who? Oh, right, that band I’m working with at the moment.

I laughed. "Hardly. Noel likes me, so Liam ignores me. He just wanted a good excuse for a fight."

He raised an eyebrow at me in disbelief. "Noel likes you?" He sounded positively skeptical, and I laughed.

"Don’t believe his press. Noel’s a good businessman, and we get on fine." I’d known that after my first meeting with him. The bottom line to Noel was money. Understanding that made all my interactions with him easier.

"And Liam hates you?"

Shaking my head, I took a deep drag off my cigarette. Liam was a pain in the ass. "Liam is the typical little brother. He lives to annoy Noel, and bugging me accomplishes that." I’d just recently learned that if I told Liam to do something, he’d do the exact opposite. So I told him to move to the right when I really wanted him to move left, and it worked. It was like dealing with a two year old.

"Doesn’t sound like your enjoying touring with the ... what did you call them? The two biggest egos in pop music?"

I wrinkled my nose at my words coming back to haunt me. "I am earning every penny. They run me ragged. But I am enjoying myself."

"Really?" Our eyes met for a moment. Why did I make him stop kissing me? "Because you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself."

"I’m black and blue, John! What do you expect?" I could hear the defensiveness in my tone, as I carefully examined my cigarette. I had to stop thinking about that kiss.

"It’s not that. You’re just not your normal sunny self."

I laughed. Sunny? Me? "I’m just tired. The summer has caught up with me, and I’m not getting much chance to rest between Oasis and trying to do this Charms video. And I’m worried about my Kate, where is she?"

He smiled at me. "You haven’t talked to her recently, have you?"

"Day before yesterday, when she was still in L.A."

"Jarvis came to find her yesterday."

"Oh, did he?" I couldn’t help grinning. Jarvis wasn’t the answer to all of Kate’s problems, but he’d make them easier to deal with. "Are they together in L.A., then?"

"They left for London this morning. They seemed happy when I saw them."

"Wonderful. I’ll have to call her."

John and I talked half the night, finally deciding to just stay up until I had to get on the tour bus in the morning.

Finally. Finally, I was caught up. I would go to this tour plotting meeting, take a few pictures, and then have three whole hours before we got on the bus again. We were in D.C. I hated D.C. Today, I didn’t care. I would happily wander the streets, I wanted time to myself that badly. And on the tour bus, I was going to catch up on my email. The girls still needed more details of my kiss with John Taylor, and I still needed more details about Kate and Jarvis’ reconciliation.

The door flew open and I stopped walking, knowing in a instant from Noel’s scowl that something had happened. "‘Em! Just who I wanted to see!"

"What, Noel, I’m all of 5 minutes late. I bet Liam isn’t even here yet."

"He’s here, and you’re coming with me."

I just looked at him, fingering the shutter on the camera I was holding. "Where? I thought I actually had three hours off."

"I’m leaving. Going home, and you and your pictures are coming with me."

Liam burst through the door, yelling something completely unintelligible to my American ears. He started to grab my arm and I turned on him with a glare. "Don’t touch me, Gallagher."

He backed off. He’d been scared of me since the stage diving incident.

"Yeah, you cunt, lay off," Noel spat. "Scared we’ll only use the ugly pictures of you?"

I bit back a comment that all the picture of Liam were ugly. That wasn’t true, he had surprisingly nice blue eyes under all that hair and the thick eyebrows. I had some pictures of him that were going to make the teenyboppers squeal.

"You’ll just put your picture on the cover, nothing ever changes," Liam snarled in response. They started screaming at one another and I wanted an interpreter. The first punch flew and I just took pictures, since I already had a camera in my hands. No, this would be the cover of the book. Gallagher vs. Gallagher. I tried not to laugh. This was just fucking ludicrous, how did I end up in this hallway watching two of the biggest names in pop music attempting to kill one another?

Finally the tour manager pulled them apart. "That is it, you fucking cunt! The band is over!" Noel sneered at his brother.

Liam sneered back. "I don’t need your fucking band!" Fookin, actually.

Noel shrugged away from his bandmates and looked at me. And my camera. "You are coming with me."

"First class."

With almost a smile of admiration, he held out his hand and I took it. Shit. If this was for real, if Oasis really broke up, I had it on film. We were definitely renegotiating my contract. My mind racing, I let Noel lead me into a cab. The driver looked at us, both of us worse for wear. "Where to?"

Noel and I looked at one another. "Home?" I asked him. "Were you serious?"

"Deadly fucking serious."

I leaned forward to the cabbie. "The airport."

"Which terminal?"

Hesitating, I glanced at Noel again. "I’ll let you know." Shaking my head, I found my cell phone. "I’m going to charge you for my travel agent services, Mr. Gallagher."

"I can make my own bloody flight reservations!"

"Oh, you cannot. You probably haven’t even dialed a phone in two years. We’re flying from wherever the fuck we are to New York, then out to London. First class. Give me your credit card."

"Give me the film."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Not bloody likely. Don’t worry, I signed a contract, you’ll get them. But they’re mine until then. Credit card."

He glared at me for a moment, but I was unafraid. I held the film and the cell phone. I even had my own credit card with an obscenely high limit, if I needed to get out of this cab and get home, I could.

"I paid for those fucking pictures," he growled.

"You will get more than your money’s worth, Mr. Gallagher. Tell me, sir, what would you do with the film if I gave it to you?" He hesitated too long, unsure of the correct answer, and I went on. "You will leave me here in buttfuck Virginia, and take my film and hand it over to some crap developer who will wash the emotion right out of those shots. Now give me your credit card, so that I can get back to my studio."

Muttering, he found his card and handed it over. Before we hit the airport, we were booked on a 1pm commuter flight to New York, then the Virgin flight to London. Virgin, the airline preferred by rock stars. I’d never flown first class, and I remembered why when the reservationist quoted me a ridiculous price for the tickets. But evidently Noel flew them all the time, because I gave her his credit card number and she immediately asked if I was Meg, his girlfriend. They must have quite a file on him.

Noel followed me as I navigated the D.C. airport, and signed for the tickets without even looking at the price. We were in the air, complementary champagne in hand, before he spoke to me again. "Why won’t you give me the film?"

The camera was still in my bag, safely stowed under the seat in front of me, but I glanced down at it anyway. "I don’t trust you."

"They’re my bloody pictures!"

"And you know as well as I do that they are now worth a mint. If I hand you this film, you will take off and pretend to have never heard of me." Hadn’t we been through this already? Could he just be quiet and leave me alone?

He was positively hurt by my statement. "I wouldn’t do that. I would only screw you over if you fucked with me first, and you’ve been nothing but professional the entire tour."

I blinked at him. "Oh. Well, thank you for the vote of confidence." I still wasn’t about to hand it over, and had to ponder why not for a moment. "Noel, this is very important film. We both know that, and I’m the photographer here. I have the secret protective gear so that the x-ray machines don’t fry it." He was horrified at the very idea. "Noel, this could make both of us a lot of money. I’ll take good care of it, I promise, and as soon as we land in London, I’ll run straight to my studio and develop it. And then I’ll call you and we’ll decide what to do with it."

"I know exactly what to do with it. Make it part of the book, and since we’ve broken up, it’ll sell a million copies."

I’d already negotiated a percentage of the book sales, and my head spun at the likelihood. "Did you really break up the band? I’m sure I’ve heard you threaten that before."

"Depends on when Liam apologizes."

"Liam does not apologize."

He smiled. "You’re not his big brother. He’ll apologize. But maybe this time we won’t let anyone else know."

I grinned at him. "That would be mean."

"That would make us more money."

Laughing, I raised my glass to him in a toast. "I promise to keep quiet and just develop pictures. You and Liam do what you will."

We clinked glasses. "In that case, you get a silence bonus."

"And travel agent bonus, don’t forget that."

"A security bonus, for protecting the film." I smiled at him. That was quite something, getting Noel’s trust. That behind us, we chatted the rest of the trip, about nothing in particular. We had a four hour wait in the New York airport, thank god for the Upper Class lounge. A Virgin employee met us with one of those airport golf cart things as we got off the D.C. flight, I didn’t even want to know how they knew we were on it. He offered to take my bag and Noel and I both yelled "no!"

We were both quiet as we sped over to the Virgin terminal, then I turned to Noel. "If Virgin knows we were on that flight, anyone can."

"We’re not fucking running from the law or anything. Canceling a show is not a crime."

"That’s not what I meant." I had a sick feeling in my stomach thinking about the British press. The news of the break-up of Oasis would surely hit London before our flight even took off.

"The press? Fuck ‘em."

Easy for you to say! Shaking my head, I turned away from him. It was his life, after all. I just didn’t want to get caught up in the hysteria I knew would be happening.

I couldn’t relax while we were waiting, afraid to let go of my camera bag, checking over my shoulder at everyone that entered the room. Thankfully I could smoke here at the bar. "Em." Smiling, Noel handed me a beer. "It’s not a fucking James Bond movie. It’s just some pictures of me kicking the shit out of our kid."

Our kid. He always called Liam that. Why did he do that? With a sigh, I tried to shake off my nervousness, watching Noel flirt with the nice flight attendant that offered us lunch. I was just overtired and my bruises ached. Hell, I was getting to go home two weeks earlier than I’d planned, I should be happy.

Still, it was with some relief that I boarded the plane, figuring no one could possibly steal the film on the flight. There was extra room in first class, so Noel and I sat across the aisle from one another, and I pulled out my laptop, hoping to get to that email. Instead, I was distracted by an offer of champagne, then I was dazzled by all the crap surrounding my seat. A TV, all my own, set into the seat in front of me. A nice selection of magazines, and the current London newspapers. Something to keep me occupied on this fucking no smoking flight. A leather amenities bag! I couldn’t wait to tell Kate, we’d flown business class last month when we’d come to New York, and joked about what you must get in first class. Blow jobs. We’d decided blow jobs were probably standard.

"Ms. Evesham, would you like a shoulder massage during the flight?"

Would I like a what?

The flight attendant must have misread my expression, because she quickly offered a manicure, as well. A head massage? Perhaps the feet? I fought back giggles as I said any of the above would be lovely. She moved on and I caught Noel grinning at me across the aisle. "Virgin fucking rocks, doesn’t it?"

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, and Noel moved to sit next to me, laughing as well. "Do they offer everyone massages, or just the rock stars?"

"Everyone. They blow the rock stars."

That set me off again, and in between giggles, I managed to tell Noel about my joke with Kate.

"More champagne, Ms. Evesham, Mr. Gallagher?"

"Why the fuck not?" I giggled, and Noel asked her to leave the bottle. She didn’t even blink as she handed it to him.

"Will you be sitting over here now, Mr. Gallagher? Should I bring your things over?"

"No, no, I’ll move before we take off. We were just enjoying a joke." She smiled nicely at us and left.

"Oh, c’mon, that was way too polite, where’s your rock star attitude, Noel?"

"That’s Liam’s game, not mine."

"Bullshit! You have just as much rock star attitude as he does."

"Only when I need to. I’d hate to be mean to that nice stewardess."

"Flight attendant."

He rolled his eyes at me and I giggled again. I’d barely touched my lunch, the champagne was going right to my head. "I’m too tired to do a good rock star, can you handle an uneventful flight?"

I sighed. "I’d like nothing more. Ok, I’d like a massage more."

He considered me for a moment. "Aren’t you worried she’ll hit your bruises?"

Fuck. I’d been enjoying myself for a few minutes, I’d forgotten I still looked a fright. "Um... it should be ok. It’s mostly on my arms and chest."

"And the black eye." My hand flew up to cover it. Four days since it’d happened, it was now lovely shades of green and yellow. "I’ll make sure you get a combat bonus, as well."

"Oh, I already talked to my agent about that. Speaking of whom, I’m charging all my in flight calls to your card."

"Like fuck you will!" Our favorite flight attendant cut short our bickering by telling Noel to get back to his seat. He tossed me his amenities bag.

"For your friend Kate. I’ve got about 20 of them by now."

I grinned at him and tucked it away, flipping through the papers in my seat pocket to read while we got the standard safety spiel. Hey. Was that Kate Charms on the cover of the Sun?

Indeed it was, I found as I pulled it out. Kate Charms and... Damien Hirst?

Damien. I fucking loathed Damien. He was one of Alex’s best friends and drinking buddies, a die-hard bachelor who’d told me on more than one occasion that I was no good for Alex. We’d come to words one evening in the Groucho, Alex’s drinking club, and that was that. Alex had then taken pains to avoid having Damien and I in the same room together.

I hadn’t been back to the Groucho until recently, as my Kate, Kate Sutton, had a membership, and we’d gone a few times to see if we could terrorize Jarvis, but generally ended up playing snooker and annoying the old boys network.

But back to Damien, he was also the darling of London’s art world, ever since he’d put a sheep in formaldehyde and called it ‘art’. Art, my ass. He’d evidently gotten yet another award last evening, and Kate was his... companion? Date?

Couldn’t be a date. Kate was with Alex, one of Damien’s closest friends. But it looked suspicious as she was hanging on his arm, looking very pregnant and just a little stoned.

Very pregnant? She was just barely showing a week ago, two, when I shot the Charms video. I flipped to the article, scanning the sentences about Damien’s normal loutish behavior and his ‘obviously strung-out companion.’

Kate would not be on drugs. I knew that, we’d talked about how careful she was even being about eating now that she was pregnant. I’d recommended some books to her that Tricia had found helpful. Kate was very, very concerned with taking care of the child she was carrying.

I squinted at the smaller picture accompanying the article. Yes, she was wearing a dress that was a bit too small, and if one looked closely, you could see that she was standing with her hip deliberately thrust forward to accent her pregnancy.

Performance art, that’s what it was. I didn’t like Damien, but one of our few civil conversations had been about the pretensions of the art world. Kate was surely clever and witty enough to get along with Damien, I bet this was all a big joke, to piss off whatever art society had given him the award. Staring at the picture on the front page again, I was convinced. She was looking up at Damien with more amusement than love. It was certainly not the way I’d seen her look at Alex.

"So, do you think that pickled cows are art?"

I looked over at Noel. "Hardly. I sort of know the two of them."

"Pretty bird. Pity she’s knocked up. That Hirst cunt, he’s friends with that Blur bassist, innit he?"

I half smiled at him. I’d been waiting for him to bring up Blur ever since I started this tour. I knew he knew that I’d been Alex’s lover. "Yeah, he is. I never liked him, Damien, I mean. But the woman, Kate, she’s dating Alex now."

He looked at the picture, considering. "Think Alex knows about her and Damien?"

"I doubt there’s anything to know. Damien and Kate, they’re the perfect couple, I think this is all some elaborate joke, to piss off the establishment and start some rumors." Damien’s entire life was about pissing off the ‘establishment’. Spare me.

"Yeah, you can’t believe anything the Sun prints. Besides, we’ll be the big news tomorrow."

I laughed. "You can’t wait, can you?"

He grinned at me. "I like to see what they make up. They’ve printed some of the most outrageous lies, this should top them all."

"If its all lies, why haven’t you tried to stop them?"

He shrugged. "They’re only trying to sell papers, like I try to sell albums. Any publicity is good for us, so their lies sell papers and albums, we all win."

I considered him a moment, thinking back over some of the headlines I’d read about him. "That is a good attitude for you to have."

"If I spent all my time worrying about my press, I’d never have time to write another song."

We chatted across the aisle for a while, until my masseuse found me, and I leaned back to enjoy an intense shoulder rub. Her strong fingers unknotted my tense muscles as we talked quietly about how I got my bruises, and how she got her job. Kelly, Virgin’s in-house masseuse, that was the title on her business card. She left me far too soon, and I glanced over to find Noel laughing at me. "What?"

"I think you need to get laid. You enjoyed that too much." Scowling, I tossed a pillow at him. Heather, our very favorite flight attendant, stopped the escalating pillow fight by telling us we could play video games on our headsets. As she left us, I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Oooooohhhh, you got yelled at."

"No, love, you got yelled at. Rock stars don’t get yelled at on Virgin."

"What, being a photographer of rock stars doesn’t count?"

"No."

I kicked his ass at the trivia game.

Once dinner was served, I took one bite and turned to Noel. "I am never flying less than first class again. You need to pay me more."

"You’re already getting, what, four bonuses? No. I’m not giving you more."

"How much are those bonuses going to be, Mr. Gallagher?"

He looked at me, utterly serious. "Don’t worry about not flying first class again. Do you want to do our next album cover?"

I didn’t even hesitate. "Yes." I hadn’t done an album cover yet. Several singles. A million print layouts for various publications. Duran had promised me the cover, but every time I checked, their ideas had changed, so I wasn’t holding my breath. We shook on the deal and went back to our dinners.

After dinner, Noel fell asleep, and Heather was dismayed that he hadn’t had a chance to change into his complimentary ‘sleepsuit.’ Pajamas. We even got fucking pajamas. I snagged his pair for Kate, vowing yet again to make sure that all my jobs overseas from now on paid for my very expensive airfare.

I couldn’t sleep, but didn’t care, finally catching up on email when I got bored with the in-flight entertainment. Noel didn’t wake up until shortly before we landed. Just as we began our descent into London, he turned to me. "Em."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won’t sell that film to the highest bidder."

I nodded. "Promise. We have a contract. It’s your film."

He nodded at me, believing me, before turning to look out the window. We had not been off the plane two minutes before his management team was upon him, and me, asking question after question so fast I could barely understand them. "Shut up!"

Everyone did, looking at him, and he began barking orders at them, much more the Noel I was used to than the rather nice guy I’d shared a plane trip with. He moved closer to me, making sure that I couldn’t get away with my precious film. One of the management team tried to take my bag to clear it through customs, and Noel and I both grabbed at it. "No! The bag stays with Em at all times." He tried to go with me through the customs line and I shook my head at him.

"These are not state secrets, Noel. I’m fine." I was beginning to feel like a spy. Humming the ‘Mission: Impossible’ theme to myself, I made it through customs and joined Noel at the door to the main terminal. He pulled me to his side, still barking orders at the management flunkies.

"Hey, has the press figured anything out yet?"

Laughing, his manager opened the door to main concourse area, and I was instantly blinded by flashbulbs.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I was trying so hard to be anonymous. I was meeting Kate and Jarvis for dinner, and I’d picked the Groucho because I knew the fucking press couldn’t hound me here. Three days since Noel and I had gotten back to London, and every day I’d been on the cover of the Sun, first as the mystery woman that had broken up the band of the century, then linked with Liam, then Noel.

Oasis! Fucking Oasis! I was barely friends with either of them, let alone lovers.

I hadn’t even been home in three days, sleeping at my studio while I developed all the film I had taken of them. I’d been home briefly this evening, and almost said no when Kate called to ask me out. But it was hot in London for mid-September, and my fucking flat didn’t have air conditioning. I really needed to move.

"Hey, are you a member here, lady?"

Speaking of lovers... I flicked down the edge of the paper I was reading to glare up at Alex. "Actually, yes. Liam somehow thought it would make up for ruining my goddamn life."

Alex dropped into the chair across from me, grinning. Fucking grand, it seems like everyone is enjoying my sudden notoriety but me. "Oh?"

I know he was biting his tongue. I was sure of it. I could think of countless innuendoes he could have tossed out, and was grateful he hadn’t. With a sigh, I folded up my paper and looked at him. I wasn’t quite sure if Alex was the first or last person I wanted to see right now.

"Yes. Liam presented me with a membership this afternoon, and Kate and Jarvis were supposed to meet me here an hour ago."

"I think you’ve been stood up, love. That’s a nasty bruise there."

Sighing, I covered the side of my face with one hand. It was better today than it had looked on the cover of the tabs three days ago. "Oh, this is nothing. You should have seen it last week."

"It was that long ago?" He looked worried for me, and I smiled at him, remembering what the same look in John’s eyes had led to. John Taylor had kissed me! The thought still made me a bit giddy.

"Yes. And it wasn’t Liam, in case you were believing the tabs." I pulled out a cigarette, taking the light he quickly offered me.

"What then?" Of course he’d read the tabs. He always read the tabloids, we’d laughed over them countless times.

"A stage diver smacked into me at one of the shows. Smashed me into the stage. Standard job hazard in this line of work. Neither of the Gallaghers ever laid a hand on me."

He lit his own cigarette, and I looked away from him briefly. He smoked so well.

Oh, hell. I spotted a stocky buzz cut figure heading towards us. Damien. Just in time to ruin a perfectly nice conversation. I glanced back at Alex, and was shocked by the coldness in his eyes. Damien was generally greeted with a delighted ‘Hirsty!’, but instead Alex stood up, offering me his hand. "I suddenly don’t want to be here. Would you like to go somewhere else, Emmie?"

Confused, I nonetheless took his hand and stood up, watching Damien. He stopped in his tracks when he realized we were leaving, hurt visible in his pale blue eyes, until he recognized me. A brief glare, then he turned on his heel and walked away from us.

Completely befuddled, I let Alex lead me out of the club, trying to figure out what the problem could possibly be. Alex and Damien were great friends, they’d never once fought when I was with Alex. Not even about me, at least not that I ever knew of.

Out on the street, Alex took a final deep drag on his cigarette and tossed it on the ground, stomping it out with some violence. I considered him for a moment, letting him seethe. "This cannot possibly be about that tabloid story about your Kate and Damien, could it?"

"Fucking cunt. He’s always wanted her, always, he just waited for one stupid fight and stepped in to take my place."

I just blinked at him for a moment. What had happened to my Alex? My Alex had never believed a tabloid story in his life. "Don’t tell me you believed my press this week, as well!"

"Of course not. You’re not the type to fuck the Gallaghers."

"But, what, Kate is the type to cheat on you with your best friend? That’s not saying much about your relationship." Our eyes met, his a conflicting mess of emotions, jealousy and rage and hurt.

Oh, fuck. It was all clear now. He’d believed that I’d slept with Jarvis, as well. In Alex’s mind, it was all the same, regardless of the fact that neither time it was true.

Or... no. No, I’d talked to Kate about Alex. I was quite sure that she wouldn’t cheat on him.

Men.

Shaking my head, I took his arm. "There’s an all night cafe around the corner, isn’t there? I think we need to sit down with some tea and talk about your problem with jealousy."

He glared at me, but didn’t move away, so I began walking. "I don’t have a problem with jealousy."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. You don’t have a problem with alcohol, either. "Alex, it took me about three minutes to figure out what was going on with Kate and Damien in that stupid article."

"She’s always been attracted to him."

"It was a joke, you stupid cunt!" Cunt. I’d been hanging out with Noel too much over the last few days. "Did you honestly think she was as strung out as she looked? She wouldn’t hurt her baby that way, I don’t know why I knew that and you didn’t."

"I didn’t believe that part..." he muttered.

"Then why did you believe any of it? What is it in you that makes you think that the women you love would rather be shagging your best friends?" How could he be this insecure, one of the most shaggable men in London?

We were at the cafe, dingy and bright but comfortable. Alex shrugged away from me. "I need another drink."

"No you don’t. And don’t think you’re getting out of answering my question."

He glared at me for a moment. "I don’t want to go here."

"You get tea and advice or drinks alone." I nearly added, "and you know damn well you’ll never get Kate back unless you listen to me," but restrained myself.

Scowling, he still followed me into the cafe, sitting across from me in a ratty booth. How many times had we sat here after evenings out drinking? Best not to think about that. I ordered us tea and waved away menus for the time being. "So, why do you believe these awful things about your girlfriends?"

"Because they’re true!"

"Was it true with me?" This wasn’t about us. It was just a similar situation.

Get over it, Em. Why else would I be so quick to defend Kate’s honor? I barely knew her, she could be screwing Damien for all I knew.

Alex lit a cigarette, not meeting my eyes, moving back as our waitress set a pot of tea on the table.

"No." His voice was quiet. "It wasn’t true with you."

"Then why do you assume its true in this case?"

"Because Kate is not you. You couldn’t be more different."

I stirred sugar into my tea, considering my next words. Kate and I were completely different, I knew that. She was what he’d always wanted. "We both love- loved you." He looked at me sharply, questioning. "I filmed a video with her a few weeks ago. The topic of you came up."

"Did it?" His voice was dry and somewhat bitter.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Long story. Girl talk and all that. But I’m quite sure she wouldn’t cheat on you."

Our eyes met for a long moment, and he finally sighed, slumping back into the corner of the booth. "I sometimes wonder if this entire relationship is worth it. We've been fighting since the moment we met, but it was just fun before we became lovers. Now it all seems like too much, the fighting, the sex, we're just constantly trying to hurt one another." He took a slow drag on his cigarette, then crushed it out carefully. "Maybe I never should have gone after her after Jeremy died, maybe we should have just remained friends... I don't know."

I was about to say something when part of his point struck me. "You went after her? I thought she asked to you join her...?" He'd walked out of the studio in the midst of mixing the album, without a word of explanation. Damon and Graham had been furious, I'd run into them at the time. Somehow it had all been Kate's fault.

He shook his head slowly, not meeting my eyes. "No. I was worried about her, and I remembered this little island we'd once talked about... I knew if she was anywhere, it'd be there. That was when it all happened, we fell into bed and just sort of escaped from the world for a while. It was dreadfully romantic."

"Sounds it."

He looked up at me questioningly. "Don't tell anyone? It was easier to have it be all her fault, we agreed on that. But I trust you."

"Of course. Who would I tell?"

"The tabloids, to get them off your back?"

I laughed. "As if. I should be so lucky. The Charms and Blur aren't Oasis, baby."

"How did you become the Oasis girl, Emmie?"

I smiled at the way he said ‘Emmie’, but didn’t let him distract me. "No, tell me what you’re going to do with Kate first."

With a deep sigh, he picked up his teacup. "I’ll tell her I was a fool to believe anything printed in the Sun. But I have no idea where the hell she is, so I’ll look for her in the morning. Because you’re right, you’re always right, I’m an idiot."

I laughed. "You’re not an idiot. You just get carried away at times."

"Can we talk about you and Oasis now?"

"Must we?" Alex’s love life was easier than the Gallaghers, that was a frightening thought.

"Please. You know I’ve read every word in the tabs about you. You are the last person I ever expected to see in the fucking tabloids."

I considered him for a moment. "I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or insult, Mr. James."

Smiling at me, he shook his head. "A compliment. You’re a good girl, not tabloid fodder."

I tried not to scowl at him. Good girl. Boring as fuck, he meant. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten on that plane with Noel, but he refused to let the film out of his sight, so I had little choice."

"What film?"

I’d forgotten the film wasn’t common knowledge. I hadn’t been reading the tabloids after that first day, when my bruised and battered face next to Noel’s had been splattered everywhere. "I have pictures of Noel and Liam kicking the shit out of one another."

It didn’t take Alex long to figure it out. "Those are worth a bit."

"I know," I tried not to crow. The thought of the money I could make off this was staggering.

"Does anyone know about these pictures?"

"All the papers have been calling me. They suspect, but I don’t think that anyone outside of me and team Oasis know for sure. And only Noel and I know how fucking good they are."

He laughed, lighting the cigarette I pulled out. "Are they?"

"They’re fabulous. For one roll, taken under ridiculous circumstances, they’re really amazing. I have one of Noel’s fist connecting with Liam’s jaw, I think that will be the cover of the book. When they’re screaming at one another, you can practically see the words coming out of their mouths." They were violent, angry pictures, but I loved the emotion you could read in them. Too many of my pictures were posed, no matter how hard I tried to coax the subjects out of that.

"Are they really breaking up?"

I grinned at him. "I’ve taken a vow of silence."

"So don’t talk."

Laughing, I shook my head. "But we all know how much money we’ll make if they can keep up the rumors."

"Wasn’t this supposed to be a Christmastime coffee table book jobbie?"

How did he know that? "It was. But I’ve been in my studio since we got back. It should be out in a couple of weeks. We’re just bypassing all the normal channels, Noel and I are going to basically lay it out and take it to the publisher."

"And you’ll make a mint."

I grinned at him, sitting back in my seat. "I’ll be flying first class for a while."

He laughed. "Money’s nice."

"I can retire on this. And I think I will."

I hadn’t said that out loud yet, and I was a little too surprised by my words to immediately notice the concern in his expression. "You’re not serious."

"I think I am. I hate this. I hate being on the cover of the tabloids, I hate being gossiped about. I think I have enough money to go back to school now."

"Bollocks!" Surprised at his tone, I jumped slightly, almost upsetting my teacup. "Don’t do that. This is what you love."

I blinked at him. "I’m a teacher."

"You were very good at teaching, and at school, I know that. You even loved it. But photography is what you’ve always been passionate about. You’re an artist, Emmie, not a teacher."

"I’m not an artist." An artist? Hardly.

"You could be, if for one minute you’d believe in your talent. You never have, as long as I’ve known you. But from the first time I saw your photos I knew you could be amazing."

I laughed. "You were in love with me at the time, dear."

"No. No." He emphasized his point with his cigarette. "I’ve thought about this a lot since I’ve seen your pictures in print, and I saw your photos first. Remember?" Against my will, I went back to that magical night we first met. "I was so amazed by your portfolio, that was what made me really look at you."

I remembered. We’d been having a casual, joking conversation, then our eyes had met and my life changed.

"Your memories are colored by lust, I think." I tried to make a joke, but he was having none of it.

"Goddamnit, Em, take yourself seriously for once." Our teacups rattled when he slammed his hand down on the table. "Look inside your heart and do what you want to do, instead of what everyone else thinks you should."

"I love teaching. I miss it." Who was I trying to convince, Alex or myself?

"I don’t doubt that. But were you a teacher because you wanted to be or because that’s what your parents did?" I attempted to answer him, but he didn’t let me. "Before you answer that, remember how many drunken conversations we’ve had in our lives."

I opened my mouth, but our eyes met and I couldn’t. Goddamnit, why did he know me so well? I’d told him so many things when I was drunk, or lying next to him in bed, or over morning coffee.

His eyes were a bit triumphant when I couldn’t answer him. "Teaching was a struggle for you."

"That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it."

"Of course not. But it was draining for you. Eventually you would become jaded and exhausted. Photography is what makes you happy. You now have your dream job. How can you give that up?"

I realized he had his hand on top of mine, lightly stroking my wrist with his fingertips. It was such an old familiar gesture, the way we'd always sat together in cafes, casually touching one another as we talked, that I hadn't even noticed. He raised his cigarette to his lips with his free hand and raised an eyebrow at my sudden quietness. With a silent sigh, I reclaimed my hand, moving away from him. "I can give that up because I hate this notoriety."

He laughed. "Bullshit. You’re a Leo. You love the attention. You had to be the best teacher, too."

I blushed. "Alright, I like the fame, but I don’t like it like this."

"Then control it. C’mon, I do it, its fucking easy."

"How?" Our waitress interrupted, asking if we wanted anything else, and I realized I was starving. Kate and Jarvis had promised me dinner, after all. "Cheese omelet and chips."

Alex smiled at me. That was what he always ordered. "Make that two."

She left us and I turned back to Alex. "Ok, so how do you control fame?" He had done it. I’d been with him through the pinnacle of Blur’s fame, and he’d rarely been in the gossip pages.

"Two things. First, you realise that you are famous, so don’t do stupid things like get off airplanes with Noel Gallagher." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he flashed his toothy, endearing grin at me. "And second, stop caring. The tabloids lie. They just do. So ignore it."

Laughing, I pulled out a cigarette. "And we seem to have come full circle in this conversation."

He held out his lighter to me. "Indeed. And, as always, you’re not lighting your own cigarettes."

I scowled at him, but it was true. I fucking loved having men light my cigarettes. "And, as always, you’re stealing mine." From the first moment we’d met, he’d been stealing my cigarettes.

Looking at the cigarette in his hand, he laughed. "This isn’t even your old brand."

I half smiled, a bit sad. "I went through a phase where Silk Cuts made me cry."

His eyes met mine, both of us a bit regretful. He began to say something, but our food arrived. Damn, that was quick.

We sat over tea and cigarettes for hours, talking about nothing. It was so easy to be with him, I felt content for the first time in days. He walked me home, since it was approaching dawn, and didn’t ask once for directions. Nice to know he still remembered.

Outside my door, we were both a bit awkward, remembering that he used to have his own set of keys. "Thanks for the advice," he offered quietly.

I smiled. "No problem. And I'll think about what you said to me."

"No, you'll do it. Finish up what you're in the middle of, and take some time to yourself, then come back and really take over the world."

I laughed. "You can be so affirming."

Grinning, he kissed my cheek, hesitating close to me. "I've missed you, Emmie."

Damn, I'd been doing so well, but his soft voice unsettled me. "I've missed you, too."

"Can we try to be friends?"

Taking a step away from him, I nodded. "I'd like to try, yeah."

His smile was so sincere that I had to return it. "Good. I've got email now, ya know."

"I do. You wrote me once, a while ago. That's a good way to get a hold of me."

"I'll try that, then. Let you know how it goes with Kate." Oh, you do that. Damn my stupid life, and my dumber heart. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight." With one more smile, I let myself into the building, stopping briefly to calm my racing heart before starting up the stairs to my flat. Most of the evening had been fine, it had just been those last few minutes at the door that made me think of ... other things. Like how his lips would taste, or how good it would be to be wrapped in his arms.

Most of the evening was good, Em. You can get over those lingering lustful thoughts, you can. Better to have him as a friend than nothing at all. Yes. It will be fine. Why is the door to my apartment open?

Did I lock it? Yes... no. Maybe?

God knows I'd been distracted over the past several days. It was probably nothing.

Still, I pushed open the door slowly.

Had I left the lights on, as well?

I walked down the short hallway past my loft of a bedroom slowly, trying to convince myself that everything was normal.

Where was my computer?

Hadn’t I left the bag with my laptop right next to the door?

The wall looked empty without the TV sitting there.

Panic rose in my chest when I realized I was ankle deep in prints, and my filing cabinet was standing open.

They were surely after the Oasis prints. A common thief wouldn't care about my photos.

Without another thought, I ran to the open window, slipping as photos slid under my feet. Leaning out, I saw that Alex was thankfully only a few steps away. My first attempt to call him back was too quiet, so I took a deep breath and practically shrieked his name.

He obviously caught the panic in my voice. "What's wrong, Emmie?"

"I... I've been robbed. Could you..."

He didn't even let me finish. "Toss me the keys, I'll be right up."