Taron Himself Apart (A Taron Egerton Fic)

[glitter_]

Hello beautiful forum! Normally I'm not a huge fan of fanfiction but I have been a real Taron Egerton fangirl lately. So since there's nothing about him on this forum I'd like to share a little story of mine (even if it's not the same experience writing about him as reading about him, so please feel free to write something about him, too, if you love him as much as I do, hehe). If you don't know him, I think you will enjoy it just as much. It pretty much reads like an original fic. I have no idea where this is going or if this is even going anywhere. It depends on your reaction. So without further ado. I hope you guys like it.

 

 

 

TARON HIMSELF APART

 

 

 

“Why Wales out of all countries?”, I sighed, leaning back in my aircraft seat. “First of all: Wales is a part of the United Kingdom. It’s not a country.” I stared out of the small window, nothing but big, fluffy clouds staring back at me. “Second of all: you trusted us with picking out our holiday destination. So you have no right to complain whatsoever.” Crumpling up my flight ticket, I hadn’t put aside since we entered the airplane, I looked at Nicolette, who was still talking frantically. “Third of all: we thought it would be better for you to travel to a part of the world where you can speak English with the others.”

 

“Wait”, I stopped her, “what’s that supposed to mean?” “Come on”, Florence stepped in, “we all know you are linguistically incompetent.” “Excuse me!” “You can’t even speak French properly.” “Uhm yeah? Maybe because I don’t speak French at home like you two do?” “Everybody in Montreal speaks French.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Why are you so moody? We thought you would be happy about your surprise!” I shrugged, not wanting to accept I behaved a little bit childish. “I don’t know. I thought we would go to a big city with wild night life and huge buildings, but now... you booked a hotel in this small village in the middle of nowhere and expect me to be excited?”

 

“First of all: this trip was affordable. Not like the one you just described.” Nicolette always had a smart response to everything, hadn’t she? “Second of all: it’s small, yes, but it’s at the coast. We thought this could be exactly what we need to get away from big city life.” “Then we could’ve at least gone to Scotland. The countryside is very beautiful there. We could’ve rented an RV there for a road trip.” “THIRD of all”, Nicolette called out, her voice seeming a little edgy, “the countryside in Wales is also very beautiful. If you hadn’t been as bad of a geography student as a language student, you’d know.”

 

“Woah, you better chill out now, Nic, before I lose my temper.” “Before? I think you already lost your temper since we’ve stepped on this plane. So don’t tell me to...” “Guys, you both chill out”, Florence broke through our argument, before the other passengers would lose their temper with us.

 

“Nic, don’t be such a smart ass all the time, alright? And Stevie, don’t be so negative all the time. After all we put this together for you. Maybe try to be a little more thankful?” Florence was right. Deep down I knew it wasn’t fair to the both of them to behave like this. In the end this was all for me. My two best friends had spared no expense nor effort to make my belated birthday trip possible.

 

So I tried to control my pessimistic self by shutting up for the rest of the flight. I stared out of the window, trying to remove the immense pressure in my ears by yawning excessively. I have never been able to adapt to the altitude change that came with flying. Florence and Nicolette left me and my mood swings alone for the rest of the flight, talking about their jobs and the obstacles they faced while navigating both, their career and family life.

 

Approximately two hours later I found myself waking up by the jerking of the landing. The contact of plane and ground wasn’t very smooth, so I decided in my drowsy state not to clap along with Flo, Nic and pretty much all of the other passengers, as the pilot maneuvered the plane off the runway to an abrupt halt.

 

It took us more than twenty minutes - the exuberant, way too long goodbye speech from the pilot excluded - to squeeze past the crowd to the outside of the airplane. Our luggage slowing us down, we hurried down the Anglesey airport, catching our bus in the last second. “That was close”, Florence said, the relieve in her blue eyes clear as day. “Yeah”, Nicolette gasped, her high brown ponytail bouncing up and down with every breath, “we would have had to wait five hours, if we hadn’t made it in time.” “Well, then thank god we did”, I chuckled, letting myself fall on my suitcase. Taking part in normal conversation again was my way of a peace offering.

 

The bus drive was very weird. My brain wasn’t able to adapt to the traffic, pretty much like my ears to the altitude... and the cold, I had to learn as we got off the bus two hours later. “Ow”, I said, as the icy wind whipped against them. “It’s cold”, Florence confirmed, shivering uncomfortably. “Let’s get to the hotel to warm up”, Nicolette said, taking the lead with a city map in her hand.

 

“It’s April! How come it feels like it’s still winter? Is it always like this over here?”, I asked, trying to pull up the collar of my hoodie to prevent the moist frigid air from coming in. “I knew this was a bad idea! I’ve got the feeling we are in the Antarctic not in... what is it even called? Abri, no... Aberswift? Abersyth?” “Aberystwyth”, Nicolette corrected her, also trembling.

 

“Yeah, it’s cold, but if you’d just stop complaining for a second...”, Florence started in her usual arbitrator-mode. “Just close your mouth and open your eyes”, Nicolette interrupted her, coming straight to the point. For the first time since we got off the bus I looked around. The city was already plunged into twilight. Lights flickered everywhere, the water roared from the distant shore, laughter came from the cozy houses.

 

The sight made me smile and the warm sounds made me forget how cold my ears were. We got to the hotel fast. And even faster to our room. I let myself fall onto one of the two double beds, staring through the window, out into an abyss of absolute darkness.

 

“Guys, come on. Let’s change and go out”, Florence suggested, kneeling down and opening her suitcase. Nicolette nodded. I frowned in disbelief. “Tonight?” “Stevie! Girl, I know you are bitter over your break up with Mark, but... weren’t you the one that wanted wild night life? You won’t get that, if you hide in this hotel room during this whole trip.”

 

Florence was right. Once again. Why was she always right? I stood up and went to the bathroom. I rearranged my braids into two side-buns with a few loose strands, did my makeup in neon shades, attached glitter under my eyes and stepped out, feeling a lot better than before. It was the first time since the breakup that I had looked beautiful for myself not for Mark.

 

“You look stunning”, Nicolette squealed. “I wish I had your skin. I could never pull that eye shadow off with my pale white skin!”, Florence said. “Stop it, Flo!”, I said, blushing but not visible because of my dark skin.

 

Half an hour later we were all ready to go. Nicolette had left her ponytail exactly where it was, since it was her trademark, and had framed her brown eyes with mascara. A black dress hugged her hips and a red sweater under it was there to save her from frostbite.

 

Florence had left her curly blond hair open and had put on a blue jumpsuit, which matched the color of her eyes perfectly. Her makeup was so discreet that someone could think she wasn’t wearing any.

 

I had kept my hoodie, black jeans and jordans from before. I had always been the most flashy with makeup but the most casual with clothing out of the three of us. We made our way into the city center and quickly decided on the bar from which the voices and the music resounded the loudest.

 

“Karaoke-Bar”, Nic read the sign. “Okay, so my task for tonight is to drink absolutely nothing or else I will end up on that stage”, Flo giggled self-consciously. She knew how bad of a singer she was.

 

Immediately as we entered, the two of them were more interested in dancing than me, so I made my way to the bar. I ordered myself a cocktail. While listlessly chewing at the straw two men sat down next to me. Since I had nothing better to do I listened to their conversation.

 

“So how are your little sisters now?” “They’re still ill but a lot better than last week. They’re very glad that mam is back again. I think they really need her to get back to a hundred percent.” “As if their big brother weren’t just as good of a nurse as their mother is.” “You know it’s different, though. A mother is always the best medicine.” “But she normally is here all the time whereas you are often gone and super busy with work. Isn’t that a good medicine as well? Knowing that their older brother visits them just because they’re not feeling well?” “I guess so... Well, I hope so.” “And how are you? You seem a little tired.” “I just need a drink.” “Me too, man. So glad you’re back. We have to celebrate this.”

 

“Hey! Excuse me, what drink are you having?” I twitched, only now - after ten seconds or so - noticing that the one out of the two, I’ve been staring at the entire time, was talking to me. I looked back at him, returning his sweet smile with a stunned gaze, unable to get one word out.

 

“Oh, sorry. Roeddwn i eisiau gofyn beth rydych chi'n ei yfed. Mae'n edrych yn flasus iawn.“ „What?“, I said, wondering if I had drunk way more than I could remember. “Excuse me, I thought you were more comfortable with Welsh.” Great, so much for everybody only speaking English around here. “Nonono, I’m definitely not.”

 

“Alright”, he chuckled. That voice, so husky and rich. “It’s our new one. Number 17”, the barkeeper explained so I didn’t have to. “Thanks, Deri, I’ll have exactly that.” That accent, so melodic and open. With a last genuine look in my direction he turned back to his friend, falling into a conversation about the good old times. “It tastes lovely, Deri”, he assured, tipping very generously.

 

“You don’t happen to have a tissue, do you mate?”, he asked his friend, suddenly sniffling rather helplessly. “Of course”, he said sympathetically. “Spring allergies kicking in?” “Kinduv.”

 

I downed my drink in one big gulp and got up, not wanting to spend one more minute focusing on his green intelligent eyes, his sharp jawline or his pointy nose, which didn’t seem to tolerate the particles in the air around it right now. I joined Nic and Flo on the dancefloor, trying to swallow the all-consuming feeling of probably staying single forever like I just swallowed my drink.

 

After a while the karaoke-stage was opened by a very encouraging bar employee. “Come on, guys! It’s karaoke night! You know what that means. Don’t be shy and just go for it. Who wants to be first? Huh? Nobody? That’s too bad. Then I will have to pick one!” “He is not being serious, is he?”, Florence whispered to me, eyes full of angst. “Let’s see... let’s see... Who am I going to pi... Noooooo! No waaaaaay! I just realized Taron’s here today. That makes my choice very easy. Taron! Join me on stage, my friend! Long time no seeeeee! Come on up!”

 

“I feel bad for this Taron-guy”, Florence said, relieved but still pitiful for the dude who got picked instead of her. Nicolette sighed. “If you literally have to drag the people on stage, this will be a very fun night.” I was just about to agree with her but then I saw Taron walking up to the front.

 

My heart somersaulted. Of course it was the same guy I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off. Of course it was the same guy I had acted a total fool in front of. Great, this night was off to a good start. As he joined the staff on stage, the room went from fairly quiet to ecstatic. Everybody began to cheer.

 

“What’s the matter with you?”, Nicolette wanted to know. “N-Nothing, it’s just... I told you this town is small, I mean everyone knows everyone. It’s ridiculous.” Taron took the microphone. “Thank you all for your warm welcome. Unfortunately my voice is just little scratchy so...” “Boooooooooo!”, the overambitious employee shouted and the crowd soon followed his example.

 

“Alright, alright”, Taron laughed charmingly, revealing a small tooth gap on the side. I had to admit it looked very cute. “You all are way too kind. What do you want me to sing?” Indecisive murmurs spread through the bar. And then there was Nicolette. “My friend’s birthday was last week”, she shouted, pointing at me. “Ssshhh”, I shushed her angrily. “What? I’m just setting the right mood.” “Such a great idea, Nic!”, Florence said, euphorically jumping up and down.

 

“Yeeeeeees, I love that. Come on up, birthday giiirrrrl!”, the employee screamed into the mic. “I hate you”, was everything I could say to my friends before they pushed me in the direction of the stage. There was no going back. Everybody in the bar knew. I had to do this, if I wanted to or not. As I walked to the stage ‘Happy birthday’ by Stevie Wonder started playing and the lighting of the bar changed. Applause accompanied me on the way and as I got closer to my destination Taron reached out his hand to pull me on stage.

 

“You again”, Taron shouted into my ear over the music, his voice sounding a bit strained. “Me again”, I answered, louder than him. “Happy birthday!” “Thanks!” “What’s your name?” “Stevie!” “Really?” “Yeah!” “Like the singer of this song?” “Yeah!” “Ha, lovely! I’ll remember that for sure. I’m Taron!” “Nice to meet you!”

 

And then he started singing. I don’t know what my expectations were or if I even had any, but the second I heard his voice, I was scared I would melt right there in front of everyone’s eyes. His speaking voice had been very pleasant to my ears but his singing voice was... something else. Souly but with a slight rocky growl to it. Thick and light, high and low all the same.

 

As the refrain came along Taron shouted: “And now everyone!” While continuing to sing he grabbed my hand and turned me around. The vibe was so charged I could swear the touch between us sent little electric shocks up my arm into my whole body, that kept buzzing even as he let go of my hand, lowered the mic and turned around.

 

Frowning I watched him snapping forward, his upper body jerking up and down as if gentle lightning bolts shivered through him. Once Taron straightened and turned around again, he was fumbling with a tissue. These lightning bolts... Were these... sneezes? As he blew his nose the crowd was still singing the refrain heartily leaving me to be the only witness to his little misery.

 

[EveP]

Now I have to google this guy while waiting for more. ❤️