Ugh. I can't sleep. And it's now...

I rolled over and looked at the clock on the table next to me.

12:40.

It is now 12:40, and I'm not asleep yet. And while that may not be all that late to some people, it is when I went to bed two hours ago.

I'm going to have to get up. Insomnia doesn't go away just like that, and I'm hungry anyway. But I don't want to wake Oliver up.

Silently, I slid out of bed, and padded over to the door. I turned the handle, and walked out into the living room area. It was a really posh suite. TV, mini-fridge, CD system. DVD player. The company must be spending loads on getting us to stay here. But it's their money.

Mini-fridge. Wonder what's in there...

I opened it, and looked inside, finding drinks, food... ice cream. How can ice cream be in a fridge and not melt? I looked at a sticker that was stuck on the fridge.

Oh. It's a freezer too. That makes a lot more sense.

Taking the ice cream out, I picked up one of the spoons you were supposed to use to make coffee. Then I walked over to the couch, and sat down, grabbing the TV remote as I did so. I pressed the button, and music blared out of the speakers.

"Oh! Shit!" I muttered, hastily turning the sound down. Who the hell needs the volume that high? And why leave it like that?

I sat for a minute, making sure that I hadn't woken anyone. Hopefully I hadn't. It wasn't my fault anyway. When I was satisfied that I hadn't, I opened the tub of ice cream, and dug my spoon into it.

A creak on the floor behind me, made me jump, and I turned around, my heart beating fast. Oliver was stood at his doorway, looking at me through bleary eyes. He was wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. "Lilly?"

"I'm so, so, sorry," I said, getting up. "I couldn't sleep, and I got up, and put on the TV, and it was really loud, so I had to turn it down... I'd hoped that I hadn't woken anyone... did I wake you?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, not at all... okay. Yeah, you did, but I wasn't sleeping well anyway, so..."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. God, I feel so bad now..." I said, looking at the floor. He was sleeping, and I woke him up! How selfish is that? Not that I meant to or anything, but still...

"No. Don't. It's fine," Oliver said, walking toward the couch, and sitting down. "I wasn't sleeping well anyway, and kept waking up ever half hour. So I would've woken up in a minute anyway."

I sighed, and sat next to him. "I still feel bad."

"Well you shouldn't," he said, smiling at me. "Plus, you have ice cream. So I'd much rather be here, than in bed, trying and failing to sleep."

I laughed. "There's about three more tubs in the mini-fridge/freezer. There's also chocolate, and some other stuff that can't be good for you."

"Stuff that isn't good for you, is always the stuff that's the best," Oliver said, and got up, pulling the entire contents of the mini-fridge onto the floor, and over to me.

I glanced back to the TV, and saw the music video for 'Best of You' by the Foo Fighters starting. I love this song. "I love this song!"

"Really?" Oliver looked up at me, amused.

I nodded, and began singing. "I've got another confession to make, I'm your fool. Everyone's got their chains to break, holding you. Were you born to resist, or be abused? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?"

"You've got a good singing voice," Oliver smiled up at me.

I blushed slightly, and slid down to join him on the floor. "Not really."

"I'd say you give Hannah Montana a run for her money," he said, and I laughed. If only he knew.

"Well thank you," I smiled, and looked back at the video. "Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?"

Oliver grinned. "Has someone taken your faith, it's real, the pain you feel, your trust, you must, confess."

"Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?" I sung back, biting my lip slightly.

Our eyes connected, and I didn't want to blink. Like in those games you play when you're small. The staring contest. Except this wasn't a contest. This wasn't a game. It was real.

"I've got another confession to make. I'm no fool," Oliver sung, and I have to admit, he didn't sound half bad.

I was focussing so hard on not blinking, that I forgot to sing the next line. "Oh! Somewhere new... were you born to resist, or be abused? I swear I'll never give in... I refuse."

"Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?" Oliver said, looking away at the TV.

I bit my lip, as the song continued.

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

"Has someone taken the faith, it's real, the pain you feel, your trust, you must, confess... is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?"

The song ended, and I tore my gaze away from Oliver.

Jeez, Lilly. He's your boss. You can't be staring at him like this. Miley would start getting ideas if she was here. Thank goodness she isn't!

"I love that song," I grinned, sitting back against the couch. "Anyone who doesn't like the Foo Fighters is insane."

Oliver nodded, and opened up the ice cream. "Where did you get the spoon?"

I pointed over to the coffee maker, and the tray of supplies next to it. Oliver got up, and walked over to where I was pointing. He picked up a spoon, and looked at it. "It's made of plastic."

"I know," I laughed. "But it's all we have."

He rolled his eyes, and picked up the tray. "Just in case they break."

I laughed as he sat back down. "Midnight feast! I always loved midnight feasts. There was just something about eating at midnight. Me and Miley used to do it at sleepovers, and talk about girly stuff."

"Girly stuff?" Oliver queried, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

"Yeah. Stuff like who we had a crush on, and which teachers we hated," I smiled, remembering sitting in Miley's room, talking by flashlight.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "Who do you have a crush on?"

"Oh, yeah, right. You're not getting that out of me," I smiled.

"So you do have a crush on someone?" Oliver said, sitting back.

I looked at him. "I didn't say that."

"Oh. So you don't?" Oliver asked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm attempting girly conversation here. The least you could do is give me something."

I laughed. "Okay. Fine. Um... I don't think that I have a crush on anyone at the moment. But I'm not entirely sure. What about you?"

"I think I'm in the same boat as you. My brother is insisting that I do. That I'm going to marry this person. It's annoying," he said.

Oh my gosh! Miley was exactly the same. "Miley is the exact same. I keep telling her that I don't like this guy... at least, I don't think I do, but she insists that I do. I'd like to know how she's sure of it, when I'm not sure of it."

"So. Who is this mystery guy?" Oliver asked.

I looked away. Well I can't say that it's him, can I? "Just some guy I used to know at school. I doubt it's anything to be honest. Why? Who's the girl?"

He hesitated. "Same as you. Someone I used to know at school."

"Oh," I said, looking down at the ice cream. Then I looked back up. "You want a drink? I want water. Do you want water?"

I got up, and turned my back to him, getting ready to go to the sink.

"Wait a minute," I heard him say. "Is that a tattoo?"

Crap. I didn't think my pyjamas were that low! I blushed, and bit my lip. How the heck had he seen that? And more importantly, why was he looking that far down my back?

So I'll give you the second part to this chapter tomorrow. :-)