THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND || Bad Omens [\m/]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND || Bad Omens [\m/]

another day of waking up and wishing i was getting my guts rearranged and being called a cumslut by noah instead of having to go to work sigh

Noah Sebastian: a whole aesthetic.

i need this back, like yesterday. Noah if you can hear me noah

Ugh, my heart. I’m can’t take this much fluff and angst

Read All About It.

Noah x Reader.

Word Count: 1,978

Content Warnings: angst, fluff, lies, deceit, lots of crying.

Taglist: @somebodyels3 @reyadawn @kaliforniahigh @herbhuntress

Masterlist

Authors Note: This feels different from what I normally write. It started as just a single paragraph covering the whole plot, and I started fleshing it out, but found that I actually like the less descriptive, more casual style. So let me know what you think. I might write more stuff like this.

You always wondered what it must be like for people who end up friends with A-List celebrities. Normal people who live regular lives but have the occasional brush with all the glitz and glamour. Befriending the guys in Bad Omens wasn't quite as high profile, but it brought you more attention that you would have anticipated. Nothing crazy. But after a couple photos of you eating lunch with the guys started to make the rounds on Twitter it wasn't long until your personal social media pages were flooded with an influx of new followers and comments. You set everything to private after that. 

You were spotted a few more times, people uploading videos and pictures of you from the Bad Omens shows you attended. And it didn't take long for the rumours to begin. You were an old friend. An ex-girlfriend. A current girlfriend. A long-lost sibling or cousin. There was always somebody who claimed to know someone, who was a friend of a friend, that had the ‘inside scoop’. Ignoring the rumours was fairly easy though, you kept your circle of friends small and you steered clear of the gossip blogs. But as much as you tried, you couldn't stop those people trying to seek you out. 

You met Christine at the coffee shop you frequented. She was a regular just like you and the two of you had almost identical orders. That's how you met actually, the barista called out your order and she stepped up to take it. You both laughed at the realisation of what had happened, and ended up sitting together that morning. It quickly became part of your routine, you sat together almost each morning, swapping stories and information about your lives. It was nice, you thought, to get stuff off your chest to somebody external to your main friend group with the Omens guys. You kept things vague, never really mentioned any names, and if she knew who you were alluding too she never mentioned it.

You never saw her outside of the coffee shop, and neither of you ever asked to. The coffee shop was your safe haven, the two of you with your matching coffees sharing secrets and all your favourite stories. After a while she'd started asking more about the band, you were a little apprehensive at first, sure, you'd mentioned the guys before, but you hadn't revealed anything that wasn't already public knowledge. You decided to test her, fed her a small piece of false information, and then checked the Reddit and Twitter threads obsessively for a couple days until you were confident she hadn't spread the information online. You felt like you could trust her. 

Eventually you started opening up a little more, answering her questions and revealing more about yourself. In return she shared aspects of her own life, information that you would eventually begin to realise was all false.  

It was a Thursday morning when you admitted to her about your crush on Noah. A secret you'd shared with nobody until then. The next morning you awoke to a text from her saying she wouldn't be at the coffee shop that morning, she was unwell. Saturday came and she still didn't make an appearance, but no text came through and your message to her went unanswered. 

Sunday the same. 

Monday. 

Tuesday.

Nothing. 

Wednesday morning you were awoken by your phone ringing. It was Noah. 

“You're just going to throw away years of friendship like that?” You flinch at the tone of his voice, pulling your phone away from your ear to check that it was definitely Noah on the phone. It was. He never spoke to you like this. He was never angry. 

“Noah? I-” He cuts you off before you even have a chance to ask what was going on. 

“I thought our friendship actually meant something. Thought I was more to you than just a way to make some quick money. How much did they pay you, huh?” You could feel your lower lip beginning to quiver as you desperately tried to get a word in amongst his ranting. You didn't have a clue what he was talking about. 

“I don't know-” He cut you off again. 

“I thought I could trust you.” He ends the call after that, not giving you an opportunity to respond. You dropped the phone onto your lap, thick tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. You didn't know what had happened, what you'd done, or what he thought you'd done, but he'd never spoken to you that way before. You took a moment to collect yourself, pressing the call button on his contact, it went straight to voicemail. You fired off a quick text to him, explaining your confusion and asking him to call you so you could figure out what had happened. 

The text didn't send. He'd blocked your number. 

You sobbed for most of the morning following that. 

You finally pulled yourself out of bed, when you heard a knock at your door. You'd initially planned to ignore it, but then Nick's voice had echoed through. 

“Let me in. Please. I just want to talk to you. I promise I'm not going to shout.” You'd unlocked the door, trying to stop yourself from looking so pathetic as you stared up at him. You hadn't looked in the mirror, but you knew your eyes were red and puffy, and any anger Nick felt seemed to dissipate the second his eyes laid on you. His eyes were filled with pity, and the look caused you to start tearing up again. 

“I don't understand what's going on.” Your voice was small, barely recognisable. Nick sighed, holding up a magazine. You recognised it as one of the trashy gossip tabloids that you all hated. But there on the front cover, a picture of you and Noah out for lunch, a picture you'd only shared on your private instagram. Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion, finally tearing your eyes from the picture, up to the headline:

NOAH SEBASTIAN ‘BEST FRIEND’ REVEALS ALL.

You snatched the magazine from Nick's hand, leaving him standing in the doorway as you moved over to your sofa, sitting down to read. The very first article, the author, a woman named Christine. You felt your eyes tearing up again, making it only a few sentences in before your cries had turned into full body sobs. She'd lied to you. It was all lies. She wasn't who she said she was, she was a reporter and she'd used you. You threw the magazine onto the coffee table in front of you. Nick had joined you on the sofa at some point, and you tried your best to explain to him through your tears. It took him a minute, but eventually he understood what you were trying to tell him. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He pulled you into a hug, pressing soft kisses against your scalp as you cried against him. 

“I'll speak to him.” You both stay like that, Nick not wanting to leave you while you're in such a state. As your tears subside, and your breaths even out you try your best to explain further and apologise.

“I thought she was my friend. I'm so st-stupid.” You let out a shaky breath as your lip starts to quiver again. 

“I didn't know Nicky, I promise. Tell him I'm sorry, please. Please tell him. I made him so angry. I-” He stops you with a shush, stroking your hair with one hand. 

“It's okay, it's okay. I know. He won't be angry once he knows the whole situation, sweets. I'm sorry he spoke to you that way.” 

Nick leaves not long after that, confident that you've calmed down enough for him to leave you alone. Despite his reassurance, as the door closes behind him you can't help but worry that that might be the last time you get to see any of the band. 

You send Christine a rather strongly worded text message once Nick has left. 

The message doesn't send, she's blocked you too. You cry again. She may have lied to you, but you mourn the loss of what you had hoped was going to be a lifelong friend. You go to remove her from your Instagram only to find her profile is gone. It was all a lie. 

Three hours pass. Complete radio silence. 

Nick had taken the magazine back with him, so you never get the chance to read the article from start to finish, so you sit, racking your brain, trying to figure out everything you told her. Each thing you remember fills you with more and more anger, anger with yourself for being so stupid. Your thoughts are broken by another knock on your door. You check through the peephole before you answer. Noah. Your hands are practically shaking as you pull the door open. 

“Noah I-” You don't get a chance to say anything else, his arms immediately wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“I'm sorry. I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have shouted.” You sink into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“I was stupid. I should have known.” You mumble the words against his chest before pulling away. His eyes are red, cheeks tear stained and you internally curse yourself again for causing all of this. You both take a seat on the sofa, just like you and Nicky had a few hours earlier. You weave your fingers in with his, holding hands as you begin to talk through everything that had happened, sharing apologies. 

“Did Nick make you read the whole article?” You shook your head, stroking your thumb over Noah's knuckles. 

“I didn't even make it past the first paragraph. I was just so disappointed in myself. I-” He stops you, giving both of your hands a squeeze before letting go. 

“Originally, I didn't make it much further than that either. But Nicky made me sit and read the whole thing before I came over. I think you should read it.” He pulled the rolled up magazine from his back pocket, the paper now awkwardly folded from being sat on. You take the magazine from his hands, trying to hide your shakiness as you flip open the page to the article. The tears start again as you begin to read. 

“Do I have to-” 

“Please. I just need to know something. But I need you to read it first.” His thumb reaches out to brush away the tears that had started to fall. 

“Please don't cry.” You sniffle a few times, but continue to read. Trying to apologise again as you read through each piece of information you'd given away so freely. You can't hide the shaking of your hands anymore as you reach the final paragraph. Written there in black and white, your secret. You have feelings for Noah. You know immediately that this is why he wanted you to read the whole thing. 

“I- Noah, I can explain-” You struggle to make eye contact with him as it dawns on you that the whole world knows. That he knows.

“Is- Is it true?” You pause, trying to decide if it would be worth it to just lie. To say it's some story Christine made up to make the whole article more scandalous. But you can't. You can't lie to him while he's in front of you like this. So you admit it. A small, breathy ‘yes’ passing your lips. And then he's on you, hands pushing the magazine away, one hand gripping at your jaw, the other taking hold of your wrist, pulling you towards him until finally your lips meet. 

“Oh.” You sigh against his mouth, moving your lips against his for a moment until he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Thank God for that.”