Davey Williams || Nudes

Rain sleets down against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the luxe Savoy suite. The room isn't trashed — luckily, though he's about ten seconds from tripling the hotel bill. Because right now he's a live wire, filled with adrenaline and simmering anger that threatens to consume him. He's never felt like this in his life — the visceral shame and embarrassment coursing through him. He doesn't know whether to scream or punch something.

All he knows is he's fucking screwed.

Because #daveywilliamsbigdick is trending on Twitter.

It started just like any other morning on tour. He'd woken up, jet lagged and confused, to which city he was in before answering Ben's usual morning check-in phone call to make sure none of his idiot children had died in the middle of the night on him or gotten thrown in jail (again).

Yes, he was alive. And yes, he wants his usual coffee order.

Who knew that was the last moment of normalcy Davey would have that morning. He'd done his usual routine — a jog along the Thames cut short by the rain, then a quick shower, and then doomscrolling on his phone until Ben or his assistant delivered his coffee. Maybe he'd watch the new episode of Vic and Zack's show to kill the time.

Only he never made it to YouTube as he planned. He'd opened instagram simply to check his socials and was met by a barrage of odd comments like Gag me daddy under his most recent post; a black and white shot of his drum-kit from their last North American date.

At first, Davey thinks it's just a stupid prank Mikey encouraged fans to go along with — it wouldn't be the first time Mikey looped their fans in on his shenanigans. But — Mikey's page was quiet — no story or anything that would indicate his hand in the surge of odd comments. "The fuck? Is it a full moon or something?" he'd wondered in annoyance.

But Davey didn't have to wonder long — because Twitter had all the answers for him. His twitter feed is flooded with replies; dozens of chats with fans eagerly sharing links in between praising Davey for his hot body.

He already knows what the link is before he clicks on it — his stomach dropping at the realization of what she'd done.

Sara. His ex, the woman he had thought one day he'd marry, who cheated on him with half a dozen men over the course of their two years together.

As the images load, his worst fear is confirmed. It's him — naked, his tattooed figure on display. A bathroom selfie he'd sent to Sara while they dated. There are at least a dozen images. Some of him lying in a hotel bed, another where he'd pulled his pants down just enough backstage to take a picture. His nudes were now splattered across the World Wide Web.

And what's worse?

So was his sex tape.

A teaser — Sara had posted it on her page to promote her new OnlyFans account. Their intimate video from their anniversary in Paris was reduced to a fucking teaser for her new adult career. A bitter laugh had left Davey's throat, the humiliation bubbling up in disbelief.

He never thought she'd stoop that low.

But it turns out you never truly know a person.

"FUCK" his head slams back against the wall — Davey scrubbing his hand over his handsome face. He can feel his phone vibrating in his hand and he knows it's Ben. After all, Davey had texted him immediately upon realization but fuck he can't face Ben right now.

He wasn't the troublemaker — that was Kellin and Mikey — and sometimes Vic, but Davey? He never caused a scandal — not even when he broke up with Sara, though he'd been tempted to leak photos of her kissing other men if she tried to spin things against him.

With the way she'd stayed quiet, Davey thought that was the last he'd hear of her. Instead, he shouldn't have been so stupid and made sure she'd erased his nudes from her phone. Hot tears prick at his eyes as he thinks about his mom having to see her son's nudes because he had a lapse in judgement. Did Sara hate him that much?

"Mikey and Kells are never going to let me live this down," he groans, punching the bridge of his nose. He takes a long, shaky breath, slamming his fist down against the wall. He needed to get out of here — out of this room — just somewhere where he wouldn't spiral into oblivion.

Because he wasn't going to let this define him. At least that was what he was telling himself to keep going.

But he can't sit here and dwell — and he can't look at his phone — or he'd cause an even bigger mess for Ben to clean up. No — he just needed to fuck go for a walk, smoke an entire pack of cigarettes, and get piss drunk.

Yeah — a dark pub was probably the best place for him.

Davey grabs his leather jacket, roughly pulling it on, followed by the grey knit Vivienne Westwood Beanie he'd picked up during his last trip to Tokyo. He adds his aviators despite the gloom outside, desperate to ensure no one would recognize the embarrassed rockstar right now.

He'd apologize to Ben later, but for now, he just needed to get out of his own head.

He's lost in his own brooding thoughts as he exits his room, turning around the corner towards the elevator bank when he finds himself colliding with another person.

"Watch where you're going!" Davey lashes out as he takes a step back to steady himself, on the defensive after his morning. He's in fight mode — feeling like a caged animal that's just been struck. But almost immediately, he feels bad, letting out a shaking sigh as he rubs the back of his neck.

He's being a dick.

And that makes him feel even worse.

"Listen — sorry. I just — I'm having a really shit day."