Notes: Hello, people.

I have no self-control, it's okay if you judge me. It's time to just get it done. This is only happening because this Arthur gives me a serious rock star vibe.

Also... This is pure fluff. Honestly, I'm not even considering the real world and music industry. If you want a more faithful portrait of the reality, you're reading the wrong fanfiction. We're deep into my fantasy world. You've been warned. lol

Ah! The title is based on the song "There's no way", from Lauve feat Julia Michaels. Great song, you should check it out.

Chapter 1

Arthur didn't need to look at Bedivere's disappointed face to know he'd fucked up. He didn't need to check Twitter or Facebook, or even fucking E! to know he'd said the wrong thing.

Especially because those few words were branded on his mind.

"There will always be someone to call your hard work 'bullshit'. Never listen to them."

Arthur might be a rockstar -even though he kinda hated the term-and have the fame of a bad boy, but he tried -quite hard -not to be a jerk.

He'd just failed miserably at that.

A few nights ago, he'd been getting out of a pub with two of his band mates. He was slightly buzzed and more than a bit irritated -a so-called fan had insistently yelled at him that Camelot had sold itself to the 'industry' -when they were mobbed by paparazzi.

Nimue had pulled her hood up, while Wet Stick had firmly pushed her ahead -she hated the attention of the cameras -leaving Arthur a bit behind.

Arthur hardly ever talked to the media, mostly because they annoyed him, but that night… That night he was tired and grumpy, so when they threw a question at him, he just snarked the first thing that came to his mind, which happened to be a major Freudian slip.

If he were to be completely honest, he hadn't even heard the whole question. He just heard something like "what do you think" and one name: Sansa Stark.

Sansa Stark was the princess of pop, America's sweetheart; she was beloved by the industry. She was a feminist and she advocated against domestic violence.

And he -stupid, tired idiot -had said, "I'm tired of this pop bullshit." Someone recorded it and it went viral.

It was the most ridiculous Freudian slip he could have ever committed on tape. He meant to say, 'pap bullshit', he swore by it. But he didn't, he'd said 'pop'.

And the world saw it and the internet went batshit over it.

He woke up the next morning with texts from all his friends, from Bedivere and his Twitter was blowing up. It was only then he finally understood the question he supposedly answered: "What do you think of Sansa Stark singing at the opening of the Grammy's?"

Arthur cringed.

There was way too much noise over this particular topic already. Benjen Stark was a rock legend; his band -The Watchers on the Wall -was a reference when it came to the genre; they were right along big names like The Beatles, Queen, Led Zepplin. Fuck, Arthur himself was a big fan.

However, earlier that week, it had been announced that Benjen Stark would sing at the Grammy's along his niece, Sansa Stark, and people had gone crazy.

Benjen was protective of her. That same year, someone had found a picture of him frowning and posted it with the caption: "The face you make when you're a living rock legend and your niece sings pop trash". Stark, who at the time didn't even own a Twitter account, created one just to post a picture of himself with said niece, who'd clearly just finished one of her concerts, with the biggest smiles on their faces. The caption read: "The face you make when your niece is bright and talented and you're fucking proud of her".

Arthur didn't even care that Sansa Stark was singing at the Grammy's. They could sing whatever the fuck they wanted, in whichever way they wanted. It was none of his business.

But now people thought it was.

Some of his fans were saying how proud they were of his statement and screaming their support; they said it was high time someone positioned themselves against this 'pop bullshit'. Other fans admitted being disappointed at his retrograde attitude.

People all over the internet had many opinions about it; some saying he had a right to have his own opinion and others claimed he'd been just an asshole. There were talks of sexism, prejudice and just plain rudeness.

Then Benjen Stark himself replied to the video with "That's exactly the type of attitude we don't need." To make things better, Jon Snow and Arya Stark -the lead singers of The Direwolves and Queen Nymeria respectively -had also shown their support to Sansa; which was expected, considering they were a family. The thing was, Arthur knew and liked both of them.

Arthur was already feeling like shit by that point, but then Sansa Stark decided to say something.

"There will always be someone to call your hard work 'bullshit'. Never listen to them."

Classy, like her. She'd never be petty or rude, because that wasn't who Sansa Stark was; she was a lady through and through.

It made him feel even lower. Bedivere's face wasn't helping.

"I know." He said before his agent could even open his mouth.

"I know you." Bedivere told him dryly. "You're much smarter than this, you never said anything even remotely problematic before. Why start now and like this?"

Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to say anything. I know it makes no difference." He said when he saw Bedivere opening his mouth. "You know I'm not that much of a prick, Bedivere.

Now it was Bedivere's turn to sigh. "I do. At least you apologized."

He'd posted a formal apology on his Facebook the day before. He'd apologized not only to Sansa Stark herself, but also to all the pop artists, and made clear he respected them all.

There had been no further comments from the Stark Clan.

Arthur took a fortifying breath. "Call your buddies." He asked Bedivere. "Get me in touch with Sansa Stark."

XxX

Sansa had disconnected from Twitter since she wrote her reply to Arthur Pendragon a few days back. Shae, her assistant, was taking care of all the social media problem for now. She was tired of seeing the debate over the comment, and the support and attacks from all over the place.

She hadn't survived under Cersei's thumb to engage in a Twitter war with Arthur Pendragon of all people.

Her whole family had been beyond offended by his comment, but those were the Starks: always united, no matter what. Arya had wanted to go on a full rant over it, but Sansa asked her not to; she didn't want to make this bigger than it already was.

If Arthur wanted to be the though rocker with a bad attitude, he could do it without her help.

Jon had also been quite upset about it, because he knew Pendragon and liked him -as much as Jon could like anyone he knew for less than a decade. He commented he didn't think Pendragon was the type to make comments like these, but also admitted he might not know the other man enough.

Sansa had obviously never met the man, and only knew him by reputation. There was a lot of crossed information about him: some claimed he was as much of a bad boy as he looked, others said he was a caring, laid-back guy who just happened to like heavy rock.

Sansa didn't particularly care who he really was, as long as he left her the hell alone.

Apparently, it wasn't to be.

She was running on the treadmill when Shae appeared beside her, lips firmly pressed together like she was trying to contain a scream, and frenetically bouncing on her feet.

Sansa stopped the machine. "What's wrong?"

Just then she noticed the phone in Shae's hand. "It's Arthur Pendragon!" Shae almost squealed, hand covering the receiver. "His voice is so sexy! Can you imagine him dirty talking?"

"Arthur Pendragon?" Sansa couldn't be more shocked if Shae said it was Cersei.

"He wants to talk to you." Shae whispered urgently. "Do you want to take it?"

What the hell? Sansa took a deep breath. "Give me the phone."

Shae passed her the phone and stood there, almost dying of anticipation.

"Sansa Stark speaking."

"Hello, Stark." The rough, accented voice called from the other side. Shae was absolutely right; his voice was way too sexy. "It's Arthur Pendragon here."

"How can I help you, Mr. Pendragon?" She asked, her tone of voice a thing that would make her mother proud: polite and cutting.

He cleared his throat. "Listen, I was an asshole the other day and said something monumentally stupid. I'm not about to give excuses for what I said, but I'll apologize again. So… Anyway… Sorry. It was a shitty thing to say."

Sansa was shocked, totally caught by surprise. She hadn't been expecting him to say anything of the kind just then. She'd thought he'd give some half-assed excuse and apologize, but he sounded genuinely contrite.

But then again… Joffrey had sounded sorry many times as well.

"I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Pendragon." She told him politely. "It's very thoughtful of you."

Even Shae winched at the frosty tone. There was pause from the other side. "Now, Stark…" He drawled. "I have the feeling you're being sarcastic."

She rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. "I can't imagine why you'd think that."

He chuckled. "Charming one, aren't you?"

The nerve of this… "You apologized, Mr. Pendragon, and I've accepted it… I think we're 'cool'."

"Are we?" She could her the amusement in his voice. "Good to know. Can I call you Sansa then?"

She snorted. "Dream on, Pendragon." Sansa hung up, still hearing his laughter.

Asshole.

Notes: Ok, a few final considerations.

1- Uncle Benjen is a rock legend, but he's a supportive uncle and nobody will convince me otherwise!

2- I'm calling the Mage Nimue, because I don't think she should be Gwinevere.

Let me know your feelings.