Sweet Emotion

Chapter 8

***This chapter is dedicated to the forever sweet and gentle giraffe🦒🌺 Mr Tom Hamilton🌺***

Blue eyes flitted nervously around their surroundings, staring anxiously at the crowd that cheered, up to the harsh glare of the dazzling spotlight and to the four men that came towards the centre of the stage, who were all dressed in flamboyant stage outfits. Glitter, rhinestones, leather, denim and every colour of the rainbow were all you could see. The outfits and scenery were nothing short of amazing and incredibly aesthetic.

"Come on, Tom!" The band called, beckoning the shy, anxious blond who stood nestled into the corner of the west wing, trying to make himself invisible, to join them and soak up the beautiful sound of the astounding applause that deafened him. "They love us!"

Smiling shyly, Tom joined his bandmates, putting his arms around the guitarist and the drummer, who was about a head shorter than he was. But he was six feet, so he wasn't surprised. Not that he didn't love being tall.

"Tom! Tom! Tom! Tom! Tom!" The crowd chanted. "Tom! TOM!"

"What?!" Tom cried, sitting up and looking around, brought out of the trance he was in.

Who'd called his name?! Oh. His face fell and his eyes lost their sparkle when he realised he was not performing on stage in a band. It was just another daydream. Tom was still sitting at the table eating in the boring kitchen on the ground floor in the humble Hamilton household.

His mother Betty chuckled. "You were daydreaming again, sweetheart. I was asking if you wanted some more peas to go with your fish."

"Oh, yes please, mum," Tom mumbled, growing redder, avoiding looking at his siblings and father who stared at him. He held out his plate and let his mum reload the greens onto his plate till the dish was heavy and swimming with nothing but peas.

The vegetables all surrounded the plain, pink piece of fish that sat in the middle of his plate, like how a moat surrounded a castle in those fairytales or cartoons. Though the moat was the peas and the castle was the fish. And his cutlery was the prince fighting the dragon so he could save the beautiful princess that was trapped inside.

"Yeah, Tom was daydreaming about being in a band again," Scott giggled as he spooned a mouthful of peas into his mouth.

Tom picked up his fork and began eating, ignoring his brother's cackling. Only a quarter of his dinner disappeared before Tom quickly pushed his plate away from him so he could daydream so more. He rested his elbow on the table and stared out the window, completely lost in his fantasy, barely hearing his father who scolded him for putting his elbow on the table. Tom didn't care that his food was quickly going cold or that people shittted on his dreams, he just wanted to disappear and go back to the delightful phantasm of being on stage with people who had the same passion for music as he did.

If only it was real. If only that was his life. Wouldn't it be wonderful?