Forever For You 🌷

20th August 2011

On the day that he was due to meet Izzy for the second time, Alex was feeling rather calm and confident about the whole affair. Maybe it was because he'd had a beer or two and had chased it down with a shot from his brand new bottle of tequila. Maybe it was because he felt and knew he looked good, his drastic change in appearance still giving him an excitable buzz. Or simply, his self-assured nature had peaked because it was summer, festival season, the interviews were over and he had another show ahead of him, was living his dream, had little to no worries except entertaining the crowd and not messing up his own lyrics.

But that didn't mean he hadn't thought about the moment he first saw her at least twice a day since. It didn't mean he hadn't recalled her natural glow, the rosiness of her cheeks, the tiny freckles that dotted her skin. He heard her laugh ringing in his ears when he couldn't sleep at night, had tried to remember the exact notes of her perfume, had cautiously looked for her everywhere he went as if she'd be waiting around the corner. He simply hadn't been able to shake her from his mind.

Izzy stayed true on her promise to text him after he'd handed her his number and they had exchanged a few texts in the past month, sporadic messages mostly, but there had been the occasional longer chat. They had a particularly lengthy conversation about how she needed a new turntable, then she told him about her most played records; what she listened to first thing in the morning, which tunes kept her going at work, what she played to when she took a bath and when she cooked. From there, Alex asked about food, what she liked to eat, what she was going to cook him when he had a day off and he quickly formed a habit of texting her about what he was eating in every place he visited, accompanied by a slightly blurry picture of said meal and a rating out of five.

Sometimes though, Alex would take hours or days to respond, not on purpose, either because he had forgotten or was simply too busy. Izzy didn't mind the gaps between their messages; he'd come back and continue the conversation as if nothing had happened whenever he had the time.

Alex felt like a fool for the nervous pinching in his stomach whenever he saw her name flash on his screen, liked talking to her, even if the limits of texting infuriated him at times. He gradually began to read her messages in her voice, knew when she'd be laughing at him and when he'd stumble for words at a certain question, relieved he had time to form a cohesive thought before sending the text.

He had to admit that there were times when his thumb had hovered over the call button just so he could hear her voice again, when he was tired and bored in his bunk, when he was tipsy on a tequila she had to know about, but it always seemed too eager, too much. How could he justify that? What would he say when or if she picked up? What if she was with Andy? Ultimately, his insecurity of overstepping the barely sketched boundaries kept him from calling.

At that moment, Alex was in his trailer, taking a break from the heat with his notebook and guitar, trying to get down the words that had been circling in his head for a while now but he was finding it hard to concentrate. The idea of seeing her after more than a month was exciting, distracting and he pondered whether her perfume would be the same as he remembered. He had only texted her that morning with details on how to find him once she and Zara arrived but he checked his phone again wondering if she'd text to announce her arrival, if she'd even come at all. Like a pre-show ritual, he craved a smoke now, so shoved his cigarettes into his pocket with his lighter and headed out of the door to the smoking area designated backstage.

It was quiet, only a few faces he recognised and a few that clearly recognised him but he stood off from the conversation, slumped against the wall. He lit the smoke, yet again questioning why he'd worn his leather jacket out in the heat, then took several deep drags on it. He wondered what she'd be wearing, what he should say and hoped this time round he'd at least be able to keep his cool around her, prayed he wouldn't make a wrong move, but no internal preparation could have prepared him for the moment when she tapped him on the shoulder.