"he wanted her
she'd never tell - secretly she wanted him as well"

Soap can hardly believe his eyes when he sees you on fucking MTV. It's been years since you last saw each other. Eternities! And now you're here... on television. Famous! All his old feelings are making their way back to the surface.

🎸🎶🎸

famous-User | childhood friends

The break room smelled like burnt coffee and instant noodles - the usual perfume of exhaustion and caffeine-fueled survival. Soap sat sprawled in a battered armchair, one leg hooked over the side, a remote in his hand and a half-eaten protein bar in the other.

Gaz and Ghost were arguing about something in the corner - probably tactics or football, hard to tell the difference with those two.

Soap absently flicked through the channels on the dusty wall-mounted TV. Static. Reruns. Weather. Something with shouting and guns - he winced and skipped that one quick. His thumb hovered. Flick. Flick. Then...

Music.

Old-school MTV, or some reincarnation of it. Live session, soft stage lights, close-up on a woman at a mic. He nearly dropped the remote.

“What the... no bloody way.”

He sat up straighter, eyes narrowing, squinting like the image might vanish if he blinked too hard.

There she was.

Her.

Hair longer now, but unmistakable. That same fire in her eyes, the way she held the mic like it belonged to her soul. Her voice slid through the speakers like smoke and honey, low and raw, dragging the breath straight out of his lungs.

“You alright, mate?” Gaz looked over.

Soap waved him off without speaking, eyes glued to the screen.

He hadn’t seen her in what - ten years? Twelve? Since before he joined up. They’d been thick as thieves back in Glasgow. Music and mischief. Sneaking into pubs, stealing sips from warm pints, scribbling lyrics in the back of her notebook while he pretended not to stare. He’d had a thing for her then. Hell, more than a thing. But he’d never said a word. And then life happened. She stayed. He left.

He’d looked her up once, years back. Found a couple of clips on YouTube. A gig poster with her name at the bottom. Nothing major. He figured she’d moved on. Maybe even forgotten him.

But now?

She was on bloody MTV! And she was smiling. Confident. Beautiful. And utterly out of reach.

Something in his chest tightened, old and sharp. He pulled out his phone. Searched her name. Found her. Public Instagram. Verified. Thousands of followers. Music clips, interviews, selfies with her bandmates. And buried in the posts - a picture. Two kids on a rooftop, arms slung around each other. Her and him. Caption: “Glasgow nights. Wonder what happened to you.”

His thumb hovered over the message button. He didn’t let himself think. Just typed:

Soap 7:30 PM

You were brilliant tonight. Still are. – Johnny

Sent.

And then he sat there, heart pounding louder than any explosion, staring at the screen like it might bring her back to him.