Hold On Forever (Asking Alexandria) ON HOLD.

Chapter 7

I tugged on the zip of my almost full black suitcase, hoping I hadn't forgotten anything. I pulled it off of my bed, standing it up so it slightly leant against the wall. I took a quick glance outside of my window, black clouds were forming therefore it was going to rain. I didn't mind so much though. 

It was Monday afternoon, I'd managed to get the rest of the week off of work, using the I have to go to London for a week due to a family emergency card. I'd never lied this badly to my boss, but there's no way she would've let me off otherwise. I went over to the dressing table, where my bag was. It didn't have a lot in it, just simple things like my make up, headphones, money, etc.

I was going down to London to see Ben. He'd insisted that I go, so once I'd agreed and got the time off work, he booked a one way train ticket, and said I could go back whenever I felt like it. My sister was really wary about it, saying I shouldn't go off with strangers, and tried to convince me not to go plenty of times, but it wasn't working. And Ben wasn't exactly a stranger anymore. Many other people would've probably waited a while longer, as it was Ben Bruce for fuck's sake, but I just didn't really care.

Grabbing hold of the leather strap of the bag and swinging it over my shoulder, I went over and grabbed my suitcase, dragging it out of the room, taking another glance to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I went straight downstairs, Nicole was there, she was still wary about the whole thing but she couldn't really stop me.

'I take it I'm driving you to the train station then?' Nicole smirked, grabbing her bag and keys off of the table.

'How else did you expect me to get there?' I chuckled, dragging my case to the front door.

Train stations had always worried me. They were always so big and busy, yet crammed with people going in all directions. There were business people everywhere, obviously heading home from work, and travellers, a few groups of teenagers and random people. There was no time to think, once you were in there it was just a hectic rush. 

It made me begin to think about these people, and the kind of lives and the places they were going home to. A man in a suit sat beside me on the train, a pair of small black framed glasses were perched on his nose. He had a black case beside him which could've contained anything; meeting papers, forms, guest lists, the next bomb attack. Who knows. He had an open book placed delicately on his lap, his small, squinting eyes analyzing every word on every page. I began to wonder where he was going. Maybe to another meeting, and reading this book was his only way calming his nerves for it. Or maybe he had a mistress and Mondays were his day with her as he could get away with faking working late on Mondays. Or, he was just going home to a normal family life.

That's the thing about people. Everyone's different. Everyone has a different story. You can pass hundreds of people a day, yet you don't know a single thing about them or their journeys. I find it fascinating.

I spent the rest of the train journey listening to music, trying to calm myself. My heart was beating rapidly throughout the whole time. I didn't understand why I was so nervous.

Eventually the train pulled up and everyone began to stand up and rush out of the doors. I decided to wait until last as there would be no possibly way to find Ben in the crowds anyway. About five minutes later I was out and couldn't see Ben anywhere, it would hardly be hard to miss him. 

I could hear the sound of a guitar playing, and a few seconds later a voice joined in with it. A perfectly raw voice to match the tuned guitar. I turned around and noticed, only a few meters away, a busker. I smiled at him, he had long black hair down just below his shoulders, and a slight stubble.  His black hard guitar case was placed beside him, containing loads of coins and even a few notes. He was sat cross legged, holding the most beautiful guitar I've ever seen. It was a natural sandy colour, but it was covered in writing and drawings. Each drawing different, along with different hand writing. There were even a few numbers written down.