Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
And I fucking went for it.
The only word to describe how I felt at the end of a show, in the moments waiting backstage before the encore, was grateful. Hearing the crowd yelling for more, begging for it…it blew my mind. Every. Single. Time.
“Hugo! Hugo! Hugo!” They chanted while I splashed a little water on my flushed face. The heat from the lights was something you never got used to. I was exhausted. My muscles cramped and my bones ached, yet the thrill was so incredible I could’ve kept chasing it for hours.
After the thumbs-up from Aimee, I ran back out there, hooking my guitar around my neck. Again, the noise pulsed through my body from the ground up.
“Wanna little more, huh?” I teased into the mic, receiving the eruption of hysteria I’d been aiming for. “I’ve actually got something special for you tonight, something nobody’s heard before. You up for that?”
I took the deafening cries and ocean of waving hands as a yes. I’d planned to make an introduction, dedicate the song, explain how I felt…but my throat seized with an unexpected lump of emotion. I cleared it and swallowed, turned away from the crowd for a moment, and pushed a stiff breath through pursed lips. With my eyes closed, I tried to zone out of my surroundings, mentally teleport to another world, another time where only Helen and I existed. Alone, together, in her bedroom. Her kicked back on the bed, arms folded behind her head while I performed from the makeshift stage also known as an ottoman.
I ignored the chants and cries from the arena, focused on the rapid thump of my pulse in my ears as I stroked the top of my guitar. Hear me, Helen. I’m sorry.
I wasn’t sure, even as I turned back around and my plectrum caressed the first string, whether I had my voice in check, but I carried on anyway. The whole night had been leading to this. I had to get it out. She needed to hear it.
Remember that game we used to play?
One where I’d guess what you would say
Now I’m sittin’ here in the dark
I wanna go home
Oh, yeah, we would stay out all day
I’d hide out from the rain, and you would say
I’ll never leave your side come what may
I don’t like it here in the dark
I wanna go home
I didn’t usually return to the dressing rooms after a show, not unless I’d been talked into a meet-and-greet. Tonight, though, I had good reason for going back there. I didn’t shower, though I needed it, in case I missed her. I freshened my face with a few cool splashes from the sink instead. Patted it dry with a towel.
I tried to relax in one of the bucket chairs, but my legs wouldn’t stop bouncing, so I got up and inspected the flower arrangements. That got boring soon enough, so I fiddled with some of the makeup products that’d been left behind on the dressing table. A little later, I flicked through some magazines but didn’t read a word. Finally, I checked my phone and noticed twenty minutes had passed, not two hours like it’d felt like.
I called Aimee. “Where’s Helen? Someone bringing her down?” I asked before she could say hello.
“Uh…she’s not here.”
My lungs stopped working, the inhale catching mid-breath. “Wh-what do you mean? She left?”
“I mean she never arrived. Her tickets weren’t scanned in tonight.”
I nodded slowly, processing that. Helen hadn’t come. She’d received the tickets, I knew that. Aimee had found her, sent someone to hand deliver them. She didn’t live in the small town we’d grown up in anymore. She’d moved south, down to Sevenoaks. Somewhere closer to the action she’d always talked about happening in London. The city of opportunity, she’d called it. She always was the more outgoing of the two of us. It also meant she wasn’t far from here now. So…why hadn’t she come?
“I’m sorry, H,” Aimee added, which made me remember she, or anyone else in the world, existed. “Seemed like she was important to you.”
Why hadn’t she come? The same question repeated itself, over and over. She could’ve been busy, I considered. Working, maybe. I didn’t want to think of the most likely scenario – that she probably detested me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah…” I said eventually, after realising I hadn’t spoken for a while. “Cheers anyway, Aims. Could you, uh…” Fuck. I felt winded. It hadn’t crossed my mind for a second that she wouldn’t come, that we wouldn’t just return to being best friends as if we’d never been apart. “Could you tell Ezra I’m ready to leave.”
I hung up straight away, knowing it was rude even as I hit the red icon, but I couldn’t force another word from my throat. I’d been flying so fucking high an hour ago and, suddenly, was hurtling to the ground so fast I was afraid of the damage when I hit it.