You will enjoy these last two days with her. You will not wallow in depression or any of that other bullshit. You will put on a good face and make good memories. For both of you. 

Andrew stared at himself in the mirror, running the monologue over and over in his head. It had finally come at last. He and Molly had just checked in to their hotel suite at the Westbury in Dublin and the resolve he'd spent the train ride over building up was already cracking. 

"Holy shit, Andrew. This place is amazing," Molly exclaimed. 

He'd managed to get them the Terrace Suite and she'd been blown away by the view. Time to face the music, he thought. 

"Being me does have its perks occasionally," he said, opening the bathroom door. 

She looked over at him in surprise. "Wait, did you pull the do you know who I am thing?" 

He chuckled. "No. I paid like everyone else does. I do have a bit of money, you know," he winked at her. 

She smiled and walked out onto the terrace. The sun was shining brightly and she glowed in its light. "Seriously, thank you for doing this," she said. "You didn't have to. And I'm paying you back half. I insist."

"Molly, think of it as my going away present to you," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "You don't even have to find space for it in your suitcases."

She kissed him gently on the lips. "Seriously, Andrew. Thank you." They stood in silence for several seconds. "When do we have to meet everyone at the pub?" she asked. 

He checked his watch. "About three hours," he replied. 

"Good," Molly said as a wicked grin spread across her face. She pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. "You're gonna fuck me right here, right now."

"Outside?" he asked in astonishment. "In broad daylight?"

"Why not?" she countered, sliding her jeans down and kicking them to the side. "We've literally fucked underneath a tree during a rainstorm."

"That was different," he replied. "We're downtown. With people around us. People can see us."

"Not down here they can't," Molly said with a coquettish grin as she sank to her knees and began to undo his belt. 

He had to grip the sliding door handle when he felt her mouth around his cock. "They'll hear us," he said, straining to keep his voice low.

"So we'll have to be quiet, won't we?" she answered. 

They were mostly obscured from view as long as they laid on the wooden floor. A thick hedge ran along the outside of the terrace and a screen was barely visible running from the edge of a green striped awning to the top of the half wall underneath the hedge. He knew from the street it was unlikely that anyone would see them on such a sunny day. But they'd definitely be able to hear them. 

"Come on, Andrew. Be brave," she needled him before running her tongue over the tip of his cock. 

So he was. He kneeled down in front of her, kissing her as she laid back. The carpet on the floor bit into his knees as he slid his jeans off, but he didn't care. The entire summer had been a wild one, full of things he would have never done otherwise. Naked late night swims. Sex in a thunderstorm under a tree. Beans on toast in the middle of hurricane-force winds. Fucking on a terrace at one of Dublin's most exclusive hotels in broad daylight seemed like a good thing to add to the list. 

When they were finished, he took her to the shower and they took turns scrubbing every inch of each other's bodies. Finally, when their fingers and toes were completely wrinkled over and the bathroom was filled with steam, they got out to start getting ready to meet the others. The red dress from the gallery opening made another appearance for the evening and he was glad that they'd have the room to themselves that night so he could appreciate taking it off of her more. 

The pub around the corner was already filling up by the time they arrived. A guitarist was setting up for he set on a small stage in the corner and the bartender took their orders and filled them quickly. They met up with the others in a booth in the back. 

"Who is running Potbelly if you're here?" Molly asked Connor and Maeve.

"I let Owen take the reins for the night," Connor explained, sipping his beer. "I couldn't miss your last night here."

"Technically I leave on Monday," Molly said. 

Connor looked between Molly and Andrew and smiled into his glass. "I'm not sure Andrew would want to share you on your last day here. Besides, its more fun to go out on Saturday nights than Sundays."

"I'll drink to that," Chester said, downing half of his glass. "Andrew, please tell me you'll perform tonight."

"I didn't bring my guitar," he replied with a sigh. 

"So? Go ask that duffer to borrow his," Chester said. "Once he sees who you are, he'll probably give the thing to you."

Andrew looked around the table and caught Molly's eye. She looked at him with an eager expectation. That was all he needed to throw caution to the wind.

"I'll ask, but I'm not making any promises," he sighed, pushing away from the table. 

The five of them pounded the table and cheered as he walked over to the older man on the stage. 

"Hozier, Hozier, Hozier!" 

There goes all hope of keeping a low profile, he thought. 

The bartender recognized him first and dropped his cloth in surprise and the other patrons in the pub started to take notice of him. The bartender slipped from behind the bar and hurried over to the older man and his guitar. 

"Hozier, what a surprise," the bartender said. 

Andrew held out his hand in greeting. "Andrew," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I - uh - I was wondering if I could perform a few songs later."

"Shit, you can go right now if you like," the bartender said, shaking his hand. 

"Oh, ehm, that's alright. I'm happy to wait. I also didn't bring my guitar - it's - ehm - kind of a dare from my friends," Andrew stammered out, gesturing to the group at the back.

"Use this," the guitarist said, thrusting a well-worn guitar into Andrew's face. He hopped down from the stage. "That thing deserves to be played by someone who knows what the fuck they're doing. Not my sorry ass."

Andrew took the guitar with a chuckle. "Well alright then."

He hopped onto the small stage and put the guitar strap over his head. After doing a quick test to check if it was in tune, he plugged it into the amp next to him and adjusted the microphone to his height. When he looked up, the familiar tightness of stage fright clenched in his stomach. Then he saw Molly watching him as she sipped his drink and a boldness came over him.

What the hell, he thought, clearing his throat. 

"Ehm...hello," he chuckled nervously, noodling a few chords on the guitar. A loud cheer filled the room when they recognized who he was. "How is everyone doing tonight?" he asked. Another loud cheer erupted. He ran his hand up the neck of the guitar, feeling several nicks in the bridge. "So ehm, I've been sort of forced into performing due to peer pressure," he chuckled. "I figured since its just me up here, I'd do something a little calmer to ease us into the night." He ran his free hand through his hair, scrunching it nervously as he ran through the list of songs he could share. He finally lit on one. After checking the guitar one last time, he launched into the opening notes of Someone New.

He played From Eden next, well aware of Molly's eyes trained on him as she accepted a round of drinks from Chester. His eyes kept flicking back to hers and he could feel the heat rising in his body. By the time he got to Like Real People Do, he was ready to hop off the stage. But it felt so good to be back in front of a crowd playing and the spontaneity of all of it all made him want to push on. But he was aching to be back with Molly and to focus entirely on her.

"Alright," he said, taking a swig of his beer before putting the glass on a nearby table. "This'll be my last one. Its been absolute craic to be up here tonight with you all. Thanks so much for the time and Greg, thanks for lending me your guitar," he said, nodding and winking to the older man who had thrust the guitar at him in the first place. "This last one is called Work Song and I hope you enjoy it."

When the song was over, he was met with raucous applause and whistles. Several people took his photo and he knew a couple recordings would probably surface in the morning on social media. But he didn't care. The heat building inside of him from the performance and having Molly's eyes on him the whole time, taking him in like a hungry animal. He had intended on staying at the pub until it closed, but his cock seemed to have other plans. 

"Thanks so much for having me," he said into the microphone. 

He gave a wave and passed the guitar back to Greg. When the other man produced a black marker, Andrew gladly signed. 

Thanks for letting me borrow this, Hozier.

By the time he made his way through the sea of people that had crammed into the pub and back to the table, he was walking on air. 

"Holy fucking hell, Andrew," Jamie exclaimed. "That was incredible. How do you do it?"

He drained his beer and took another one offered by Maeve. "Do what?" he asked. 

"How do you sound exactly like the album when you perform live?" she asked. 

He shrugged and laughed. "Why wouldn't I?" Another person came by and congratulated him and he gave them a polite nod. "Acoustic is always easier for me anyway. Its how I started."

Molly was silent next to him, but he felt the heat from her body radiating against his. Greg started his set, mentioning how it was unfair that he had to follow Andrew, drawing a lot of laughter. Andrew, in turn, gave him a big cheer and led a round of applause for him. He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline from the performance or the alcohol warming his body, but he felt relaxed and happy. The night continued and after a couple more rounds and a few starters from the kitchen, Maeve and Connor were begging off. 

"Why don't you guys walk with us back to the hotel and you can say goodbye there," Andrew suggested after several attempts to say goodbye were interrupted by people coming up to him and interrupting their conversation. 

So they left the pub, with Andrew slipping several large bank notes into Greg's hand with a wordless smile. The streets were crowded, even for eleven at night. Andrew pulled a beanie from his jacket pocket and tugged it on. He didn't want anyone stopping them outside. 

"You'll text us when you get back to the States?" Maeve asked as they waited at a street light to cross the road. 

"Of course!" Molly insisted, linking her arm through Maeve's. "And you guys are welcome to come stay with me in Los Angeles anytime. I'll send you my address once I get a new place set up."

The light changed and they crossed the street. Molly slipped her arm out of Maeve's and into his. He stayed silent as they continued. The fact that Maeve and Jamie and the others got to text her and have a relationship after she left hurt. Even through the alcohol, he felt the stabbing in his heart. He knew why they got her number and he didn't. It made sense. But it didn't mean hearing those words made it easier. 

After several minutes of tearful goodbyes, Andrew and Molly were back in their suite.

"I can't believe you did that," she said with a grin. "I get it now."

"Get what?" he asked, sliding his runners off. 

"What the women see in you," she explained. "Hell, Maeve looked like she was about to risk everything for you."

Andrew chuckled. "Its flattering, but also really weird."

"Why?" she kicked her own shoes off and turned away from him. 

Without needing to be asked, he walked over and began unzipping her dress. "Because its strange to think that other people you don't even know are thinking about you like that. Its almost creepy." The red fabric slid away from her skin and fell to the floor. "Besides, I never really thought of myself like that."

She turned to face him. "And do you think of me like that?" she asked. 

"All the time," he said between kisses. 

A low hum came from her lips as he unhooked her bra and slid it off her shoulders. 

"You know why they think about you like that?" she gasped as he ran his fingers across her skin. He hummed against her shoulder in response. "Because you're a guitarist," she managed. "Very dexterous fingers," she smiled. 

He chuckled as he tugged his shirt over his head. "What else?"

"There's the voice, too," she said, trailing her own fingers down his chest. 

"Of course," he said sarcastically. "How could I forget that?"

He unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans down. "Is that it? My fingers and my voice are what turn women on?"

She considered him for a few seconds as she let him move her to the foot of the bed. "Its the songwriting," she said finally, looking up at him as she sank onto the mattress. "The idea that you could love them enough or be entranced enough to write a song about them. That they'd impact you enough that you'd want to memorialize them in song."

He actually broke out laughing. "Is that so?" he asked as he leaned over top of her, pressing his weight against her body. Molly nodded in mock seriousness. "Mmm and what do you find so attractive about me? Hmm?" he asked, trailing his fingers across her body to tug her underwear off. 

It was as if a moment of absolute clarity came over her as she looked up at him. The heat of the moment and the alcohol didn't dull her honesty and he was unprepared for her answer. 

"Your eyes," she said softly, bringing a finger up to trace each one. "They're beautiful."

He froze, completely taken by surprise. It was the most honest thing she'd ever told him and he didn't know how to respond. So he kissed her softly and brought his fingers to her core, working her body until she climaxed underneath him with his name on her lips. 

He tried to ignore how sliding into her body felt like going home, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He pushed aside all the feelings and memories bubbling under the surface and just focused on her. It was the two of them in that moment and nothing else mattered. When he finished inside of her, he saw fireworks behind his eyelids. 

After things settled down, he felt the alcohol starting to take effect as the adrenaline dropped from his body. While Molly showered, he let himself bask in the afterglow. 

She actually said something romantic and sweet, not just sarcasm, he thought. Maybe if we talk tomorrow she could change her mind.

As sleep tinged the edges of his vision, he felt Molly crawl into bed next to him. She laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. There was a chance. He knew he had a chance now. 

***

The morning light pierced Andrew's eyes as he jerked awake. He blinked several times and groaned, feeling the full effects of the night beforehand. He laid with his eyes closed, reliving every moment from the day beforehand, a smile plastered on his face. 

The train ride from Bray and one of Molly's suitcases bursting open when she dropped it, sending her underwear flying across the platform. The sun filtering through the clouds as they had a cheap lunch of fish and chips bought from the chippy around the corner from the station. Molly's surprise at the lavishness of the room after they checked in. The way she looked in that red dress. Her eyes as she watched him on stage and the heat that followed. The way she felt against him as he undressed her and laid her down on the bed. Her voice when she told him that his eyes were what she found most attractive about him. The feeling of her sleeping in his arms and the hope that soared through him as he drifted off to sleep. He rolled to his side and opened his eyes, feeling for Molly. 

The bed was empty next to him. 

It had gone cold. 

"Molly?" he called, expecting her to be in the bathroom. 

He got up and opened the door. The room was empty. He noticed the bench top was empty and her toothbrush and things were gone. He spun around and scoured the room. 

Her bags were gone. All four of them. 

It was as if she had never even been there. 

A panic started in his stomach, deep and dark. She left. 

She left without saying goodbye. Tears filled his eyes and he failed miserably at keeping them from falling. He saw the note on the floor, as if it was slid under from the corridor. He rushed over and picked it up. 

Its better this way. Thanks for everything Magellan. x

He held it in his hands and sank onto the bed. She was gone. He didn't even get to say goodbye. 

END OF PART ONE