Everything happened in a rush. Before I knew it, the doors to Scott's were open and everyone was let in.
People I knew and even people I didn't know came over to compliment me. Free drinks were going around as people lounged at the new bar. Luke, Calum, and Ashton all let out loud whoops and tackled me in hug as they saw their section of the wall and various performers swarmed me about their lively images on the wall.
I couldn't hide the great feeling of pride that had welled up in my chest under the golden hazy lights. All the excitement was almost enough to make me forget that Michael still hadn't showed up.
Fifteen minutes into the reopening celebration, I found myself sitting at the bar with some fruity drink I hadn't touched as I stared at the walls around me. After working almost nonstop for the past week, they were alive for everyone to see. The people I saw in that photo album were now painted onto the walls as if they were singing and playing their hearts out on stage, and time stopped so that they were forever frozen in that moment. It was an insane sight to see the real people looking at their likenesses on the walls.
I left one of the walls - the first one you see when you walk in - for the boys. 5 Seconds of Summer. It was like one of their concert like gigs at parties when they had their electric guitars and the drumset instead of the acoustics and Ashton's cajon. They were wild on stage, jumping and running around to get the crowd excited and I made sure to show that. Ashton was seated behind his set with the bandana over his curls, while Luke was at center, his legs spread out as he took the mic. Calum was to the right with his bass hanging low as he leaned back, showing off his tattoos. Michael was in midstride with his head down, gripping his pick tightly as he played power chords on the black guitar he designed in his notebook.
Where was he?
"Lana?"
I turned around on my stool to see Michael, staring in awe at the walls around us. I almost sighed out in relief that he was here, despite what happened this morning.
"I didn't know if you were gonna make it," I gave him a relieved smile, but I still kept my distance.
"Of course I would," he nodded, still looking around. "What is this?"
"You told me they wanted something to represent the bar," I shrugged, swirling my straw around my drink. "The bar has amazing performers like you guys, and I wanted to show that."
"That's us..." Michael shook his head in amazement.
"So now you'll always be here, even when you're gone," I whispered and Michael looked at me for the first time and I steadily held his gaze.
Before he could say anything else, a tall brunetter woman in a pencil skirt, a white blouse, and a black blazer walked up next to Michael, a leather bag on her arm. "Alana Gray?"
"Um," I glanced at Michael briefly and then back at the woman. "That's me."
She smiled at me, her white teeth standing out and framed by her red lips. She looked to be in early thirties or late twenties. Her brown eyes were framed by a pair of black glasses and her brunette hair was up in a bun, her bangs falling above her glasses. "I'm Amarie Marcus."
She stretched her arm out and I shook her hand, trying to remember where I had heard that name before.
"Sorry I was late, Lana," Michael scratched the back of his neck, a small smile growing on his lips. "But I had to pick up someone who's been wanting to meet you for a while."
"We've talked before, haven't we?" I asked Amarie, my mind working to connect a memory to that name.
"Yes, through emails, video interviews, and a phone call." she said kindly.
