Harry’s raspy voice piped from the sofa where he lounged with his bare legs outstretched in front of him, phone in hand, simply relaxing on this Sunday evening in boxers and an old Rolling Stones t-shirt that you had pleaded to wear but he never allowed. You were on the opposite couch of his living room, staring blankly at T.V. that was playing some old rerun of Jeopardy. Your head rest sideways on the headrest, back to him, eyebrows furrowed as if you were angry but after a long session of searching through his brain, Harry came to the conclusion that he hadn’t done anything to anger you.
You merely hummed a low noise back in acknowledgment at this statement, eyes trained on the vibrant screen. “Is it me?”
“Yes,” Harry mused, placing his phone down, now toying with his fingers. “Something on yer mind babe?”
You shook your head absentmindedly, a weak attempt to reassure him that you were alright and to leave you alone. Only he didn’t. Harry knew from the hard line your mouth was in and slightly narrowed eyes that you were thinking. From the looks of the lack of attention you were providing him, he decided you were very much occupied in your thoughts.
“Are you guys having fun tonight?” he asked seductively to the crowd, making sure to press his lips as close to the mic as possible. Excited screams erupted from the venue and you smiled widely to yourself. No matter how many shows you attended, you were always entranced by his presence on stage. He had so much charisma, with the way he looked out into the crowd with sultry eyes to how his raspy voice rambled over the lyrics he wrote himself, a lot of them unsurprisingly about you.
You could remember the first day you met Jungkook. He looked like he popped off a page of Rolling Stone, wearing nothing but black (black skinny jeans, black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black Doc Martens…) and his signature smirk. It was odd to see him scanning the aisles of a bookstore, but when he later explained that he was trying to find a book for his best friend, you only found it endearing.
Everyday since then, you have found yourself attached to the punk rocker who had a specific soft spot for someone by the name of Y/N. From the way he sang you to sleep at night to how he had a secret passion for Disney movies or even how he always burnt the pancakes no matter how hard he tried. Dating Jeon Jungkook was nothing short of perfect, but you couldn’t help but feel a little…lost.
He had a set path and a mind full of dreams. His band was gaining so much momentum that it was almost too hard to keep up with. More and more gigs began to pop up, and there was even rumors about a record deal dancing in the air. It’s amazing, definitely, but it also made you feel like you didn’t have your own life. You toured with him, helping out backstage however you could or simply keeping him company when he was feeling low and homesick. His world was bright and loud and exciting, while you didn’t even know if you had a world.
But then Jungkook would kiss you, and you could find your purpose all over again.
Hands grabbed at your arms suddenly, jolting you out of your trance. You looked up from your spot by the stage to see your boyfriend, grinning widely as he pulled you up close enough to him so that he could lock his lips to yours. He was sweaty and breathing hard, but he still tasted like spearmint and happiness. His guitar- that he had haphazardly swung onto his back- pressed against your shoulder, reminding you just where you were. But in that moment, you tried really hard not to care. All you focused on was the beautiful, dark boy softly kissing you like it was his last minutes on Earth, and in that moment, you decided:
If loving Jungkook meant that you were lost, you didn’t care if you’d ever find yourself.
“In 1999, I got turned down over the phone for a press pass to the Rolling Stones show in Charlotte that night, and ten minutes later, got a phone call offering a press pass to the Elliott Smith show that same night at Tremont Music Hall. Elliott came onstage wearing a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt. I still haven’t seen the Stones, but I still think I ended up where I was supposed to be that night. Elliott was really good that night. The crowd was so quiet and reverent, Elliott got spooked and thought that they weren’t into the show. So he just said, “Goodnight”, and that was it! He came out to sign autographs after the show. I talked to him for a few minutes. He was very nice, and didn’t talk much beyond a whisper. I still have the album he signed, “To Daniel, XO Elliott Smith.” A few years ago, I decided to scan my photos from that night. I finished about half-a-roll (I shot four rolls of film, that night), started looking at the photos, and just…. stopped. A flood of emotions really hit me. Hard. I still haven’t scanned the rest of the photos. I need to. Someday.”
“The Internet never struck me as being into monogamous relationships,” he says with a small laugh. “It’s very promiscuous, the Internet.” (The Internet almost dumped him last year when an old picture emerged of him wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the cover of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. “I liked the design,” he says. “I didn’t think wearing the shirt was saying I agreed with all her politics. I’m not a libertarian!”)