The Trash Bin of Cliches

This is a series of shorts about the life of established author, Willow Parker.

Whilst living in London with her best friend Kennedy, Willow gets writer's block. Something she deals with by getting, what was supposed to be a temp job, at The Agency: a company that is invested in a bunch of media industry fields. While helping out with a photo shoot Willow meets one of the world's most coveted bachelors, Sawyer Huntington, one of the boys from the internationally popular group Once Upon.

Thanks to one of her new model friends, Yvonne, Sawyer gets his hooks into her and she wakes up after a night of partying with someone else's boxers on. After that it's one thing after another, starting again when Once Upon books their new music video shoot with The Agency. When she is mistaken for an extra and Sawyer picks her to play the opposing role in his scene, sparks fly, now all Willow has to do is try not to catch fire.


5. Sink or Swim: 15th October 2011


They get back from the bar and he knows she drank too much. They get in and he walks her to her room. Sawyer isn’t really sure what to do with himself, but she’s been different today; he’s not stupid, she’s been playing off of how he’s been acting. It really is his fault, he can’t just play the kissing cute card and then go all cold on her four hours later. Rachelle’s right, it’s time to stop playing because sooner or later she is going to smarten up, realize how brilliant she actually is and leave. It’s frustrating, because he knows he has her, and he knows she may hurt him, what’s worse is he is probably going to hurt her. It would be better to end it, to stay friends, so she doesn’t walk out of his life completely. As she gingerly gives him a light peck on the lips, he smiles; another thing nags at his mind, would he really be alright with giving up things like this? He would be giving them to another person at some point, his stomach tightens, he’s fine with it, he’s alright. He’s lying to himself, but he’s made a decision, one that will be better in the long run. He looks at her dancing and spinning across her room as he closes the door. It will be better, he tells himself again, probably.   

“Well,” she says, drawing his attention back to her, she’s sitting on the bed, her tops off, and the sight of it has him rethinking, stop it! he tells himself,  

“Are you going to just stay over there?”  

“Should I be somewhere else?” He can’t help it, his smile widens.  

“Yes,” she taps her lips and flops down on the bed, “You’re going to be late.”  

“I better hurry up then,” her eyes are closed but she smiles when he gets near. Stopping in front of her he leans his knees on the edge of the bed, “Will, you have to sit up.”  

“Do I?” She asks him opening her left eye, “I should think you have to lay down.”  

“You’d be wrong.”   

“Meet me half way then?”  

“What would be half way?”  

“Lean over like this,” she pulls herself up a bit and leans on her hands. He shakes his head but leans over.   “You’re being silly.” Suddenly there’s a hand wrapped around the back of his neck pulling him towards her, he barely has enough time to put his hands out and stop himself from crushing her. “That could have been dangerous, I weigh-”  

“Shh,” she puts a finger to his lips and traces them, her expression a lazy smile. Red hair spread out like a fiery halo around her head. He’s on his hands and knees staring down at her and wonders whether the door to the connecting room is locked, Kennedy may walk in and start screaming about him taking advantage. She moves so she‘s inches from his face, he can smell the cinnamon whisky on her breath as she whispers, “So kiss me already Pop Star.”   

She’s drunk, and he really shouldn’t, but god, he’s just a mere man. His lips lightly touch hers, he’s using most of his control just leaving his hands splayed out on the mattress on either side of her head. Sawyer’s eyes droop closed slowly, then she tangles her fingers in his hair just the right way and he’s gone. His mouth crushes hers before he can stop himself, she tastes like cinnamon and vanilla ice cream, it’s only moments before her lips part and his tongue dances around hers. Hips grinding hips before he is finally able to come to his senses. “Willow?”  

“Yeah?” She blinks up at him, an adorable mischievous smile on her face, her cheeks a warm pink that makes her freckles stand out even more.   

“You’ve had a lot to drink.”  

“I have had just the right amount to drink.” She says before trying to kiss him, he gives her a peck before pulling away.   


“You know what Sawyer?”  

“No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”  

“I know you’re going to dump me, which is weird, because we really aren’t even dating…”  

“Woah, wait Will-”  

“And it’ll be fine in a bit, I mean it’ll be sad but life goes on,” she blinks lazily up at him, frowning a moment before a quizzical expression returns to her face, “You know, you really shouldn’t be attractive.”  


“I have no idea why you are-”  


“Shh Sawyer, Willow is speaking,” he raises an eyebrow at her, “You have this huge mouth right?” She grabs his cheek and wonders whether he should feel as insulted as he does, “Not like you talk a lot, even though you do, and it’s usually about yourself. But look at it, it’s practically comical. Then this weird nose over here,” she taps it with her finger giggling, “So what I’m wondering, is why you’re so sexy, when you have these odd features that shouldn’t fit together when they do.”  

“Right, anything else you’d like to insult about my looks before I get up?”  

“It’s cute you think you can get up,” she wraps her legs around his waist and his libido practically sings to her at the sensation he’s been imagining being better than he thought it would be, “You’re head is shaped like a turnip.”  

“A turnip?” He laughs.  

“A turnip,” she starts running her fingers through his hair. “So why are you so attractive, you shouldn’t be, you’re features are all wonky.”  

“I don’t know.”  

“That’s a horrible answer. You’re a class A Narcissist, surely you can come up with a better defence for you’re face than,” she changes her voice to a slightly lower octave with a horrible mimic of his accent, “I don’t know.”  

“You really think I sound like that?”  

“You aren’t touchy about the Narcissiv…” She trails off mid slur, and closes her eyes, legs loosening from his waist. He wiggles out of it and thinks about leaving, but her hand catches his, her eyes half open. “If you’re going to leave, at least have the decency to do it after I fall asleep. Unless, of course, you have other places to be.” He takes a deep breath, if he stays right now, there’s a chance, a small one, but a chance, he won’t be able to leave when he’s supposed to. “Sawyer, if you want to leave just say it and I can let go. It’s that easy.” Her eyes are still half-closed but he can tell she’s looking at him, and he knows she’s talking about more than just tonight. “I’m a big girl, I’ve learned to sleep alone.” Her eyes close and she lets go of his hand, her own falling back onto the bed. He swallows takes a few steps away from her, just to see how they feel; then turns and crawls in beside her.   

“Sleepy?” He asks and her eyes open, an eyebrow raises quizzically as she rolls to face him.  

“Yeah, I thought you were leaving.”  

“I thought about it.”  

“You still can. Everyone leaves at some point, I guess they have to.” Her eyes close, her head using her hands as a pillow.  

“You’re strangely pessimistic and honest when drunk.”  

“I resent that, I’m always honest.”  

“Yeah, maybe.” He reaches out and puts his hand on her waist. Leaning his head upright on his other hand.   “I can’t sleep with you watching me,” she opens one eye and rolls closer to him.  

“Still examining why I’m so attractive with my huge comical mouth.”  


“I didn’t see you complaining before-” She cuts him off kissing him, her lips soft against his. She pulls away.  

“Sawyer, don’t make a decision because you feel guilty about it, do it because it’s what you want to do. Do it because it‘s the right thing to do for yourself.”  

“What are you talking about?”  

“Obviously whatever you’re thinking I’m talking about.” He looks into her grey-green eyes, at the flecks of gold and blue in them, this is Willow; he was stupid to think she wouldn‘t notice, stupid to think there was any decision to make. Sawyer knows he probably looks guilty, because he’s still thinking about it, still trying to make a decision that’s already been made. He just doesn’t know if it’s the right one.  

“I’m where I want to be.”  

“Then stay there,” she says sleepily, laying down again, “Stay until you don’t want to anymore, then leave. No one can really do anything about it.”  

“Willow…” she lets out a light murmur and rolls over, “I’m not sure if you’re awake, but this whole don‘t get your hopes up and you won‘t be disappointed thing,” He sits up and pulls his shirt off, then lays down close beside her, putting an arm around her he pulls her to him. Close enough her forehead bumps his bare chest and goose bumps appear at the warmth of her breath when she rolls back towards him in his arms. “Sooner or later it’s not going to work anymore.”   

He strokes her hair, and closes his eyes. It’s just one night, he can decide in the morning. A part of him nags that he’s already decided and he needs to stop being an idiot; another part of him is just writing it off, he’s stayed the night with other girls, held other girls, this isn’t any different. Yet it is, Willow would call him just the worst kind of cheese right now, but it is, and he’s feeling utterly incompetent in his own mind. She’s there, she’s right here, all he has to do is say yes or no to her; this shouldn’t be that hard. It’s just Willow, just his writer friend. Again the possibilities swirl in his mind, if he says no, there is no chance it will end badly or that she will be out of his life, then a couple weeks to months later, she’ll be with someone else. He’d be fine with that, he’d be just fine. On the other hand, he could say yes, no having to deal with her being this way with someone else, but he would have to be good. One thing Sawyer couldn’t deny, he wasn’t good at being good.   

He sighs and lets his eyes drift closed, he has to decide eventually, why not tomorrow?  

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