Rock 'N' Roll Singer

𝗙𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡

     9 December 1978
"C'mon, it'll be fun," Bon pleaded from behind the door.

Normally, I would've jumped at the opportunity to get out on a summer's day, but my bed was too comfortable, and my blanket's embrace too comforting to want to crawl out of. I stared at my reflection with its bird's nest hairdo and glassy eyes and felt a shiver snake its way up my spine. The sun's rays would burn me rather than give me the ideal tan displayed in Vogue magazine. I could hear Jane on the other side, pacing, as though my deciding to go to the beach would be the difference between volleyball and sand castles and a tsunami wiping out everyone and everything on the shoreline.

Peter and Gordon's "A World Without Love" crooned from the transistor radio sitting by my bedside as I tried to concoct a quick excuse.

"I don't know," I sighed. "I'm not feeling well."

"I'm not leaving until I see you face to face. Either I come in, or you come out."

I didn't respond. I just continued to stare off into the mirror and hope I'd travel a thousand yards into deep space. He whispered something to Jane, who scurried off down the stairs, her thongs flip-flopping against the hardwood floor.

"Marie," he knocked again. "Can I come in? Please? I'm being very gentlemanly by not barging into a girl's room, you know."

I cracked a small grin but it didn't help me not look like Medusa's blonde sister. I gave him my permission to enter, and he poked his head in before fully opening the door.

"Nice room."

He scanned all of the photos from magazines and concerts I had been to with a sense of understanding and surprise. He paid particular attention to a shot of himself carrying Angus on his back.

"I've got a good profile, don't you think?" He waited for my response, sitting posed like The Thinker on my vanity.

I nodded and sank back under my blanket. He got what he wanted; he saw me face to face.

"Oh no, you don't. You're not hiding from me." He took the blanket between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it back to reveal my eyes and nose. "There you are. C'mon, up and at 'em."

"Bon," I groaned.

"Hm?" He sat on the foot of my bed.

"Never mind," I sighed.

His smile faded when he realised that I wouldn't budge. He fell into a brief silence and turned to me. The light in his eyes had dimmed a bit.

"Marie, I-" He paused, fighting with himself to continue speaking or sit quietly. "I know how you feel. I do."

He put a hand on my leg before pulling away sheepishly.

"I want you to know that I'm here for you. I'm always home if you want to drop by or if you want me to come over. I can even visit your mum if you'd like. I just don't want to see you lock yourself away like this forever. You've shut yourself up in here for three days."

Three days since we had seen each other, at least. We had long conversations over the phone where I'd be snug under my blanket, and he'd just listen to me tell stories about Mum or cry. Bless him for taking Jane when he reckoned that his girlfriend was a wreck.

"I don't wanna force you to go out if you don't want to, Marie. It just might be good to get out once in a while, you know? Enjoy the sun, splash around in the ocean, get a brain freeze from eating ice cream before it melts."

I rolled over so my back was facing him as if to ignore the temptation to leap out of bed, hop into his car, and drive us down to the beach myself.