2022 Going 1990

Chapitre sans titre 2

The sky was the kind of blue that gave you chills only by looking at it.
The windows were half covered with fogging.
It was very silent out there; even if the morning was well begun, everyone was sleeping from the party that stopped not so long ago.
You stirred and got your arms out of the sheets; goosebumps covered them at once. You opened your eyes, and the truth fell back on you after a mere second. Your guts fell.
Ah, yes.
You propped yourself on your elbow and looked around.
Sitting at the desk, head in his arms, Jon's blond tuft of hair only was visible above his back. You moved to sit, making the bed creak awfully, which awoke him in a summersault.
He turned around at once, and you could read in his eyes the journey of his thoughts.
"H-Hi." He scratched his eyes. "Slept well?"
You sent him a look, and he bit his lip.
You looked around to leave his stare.
"Whose house are we in, anyway?"
"Mine. Five rooms are perfect for stocking a lot of people, he?"
You chuckled against our own will.
You thought.
"Jon, I know. Nikki, Axl; we must find them. I mean, it always had a link with the three of you, no?"
Jon took a breath, and an uneased expression passed on his face; as if you had said something he feared.
"y/n, you... You need to know that we don't really get on, in real life."
"What do you mean, you managed to-"
"No..." He raised his hand in front of his torso to apologise for interrupting you, but didn't let you finish. "What happened in... In... In 2020 didn't happen here. Okay? That means that whatever... acquaintance we achieved is not true here in 1988. I mean, 1989 now."
You rose your hands in the air and let them fall back on your lap.
"And?"
He chuckled.
"And? And I'm not ringing at Axl nor Nikki's doorbell with a stranger to tell them a bedtime story about time travelling and how we became friends..."
"But what if they remember too?"
"y/n, for me, it was a dream I had months ago! And nothing tells you they had it too. And even." He crossed his arms. You knew he was right. But that was the only thing you could hang on to. After some seconds, he relaxed, and said in a soft voice: "I can help you. You can stay here for a while, I-" He stopped, as if he suddenly remembered something. "I live with my girlfriend, I... I will tell her you're my cousin! No wait, she knows my entire family..."
He scratched his chin, in deep thoughts, but you were too tired to think about something.
"Your album came out not a while ago. You're going to tour soon anyway-"
"YES!" He had gotten up to fast the chair nearly fell. He crossed the room and sat on the bed next to you. "Be a roadie of us! You can help for sure. You'll travel with us, it will be fun! Oh, I can't wait to show you the guys..."
His happiness made you smile lightly. What else could you say?

-

One year and eleven months later
New York, December 1990

"So? Are you coming?"
You sighed, the phone wire tangled in your fingers. Jon's question stayed suspended in the air for some seconds.
"Yeah, I'm coming."
He cheered on the other side, and you grinned although you could feel a pinch in your heart. The end-of-the-year celebrations weren't festive at all for you. Memories of your past life were always on your mind, but they had a different taste approaching New Year's Eve. If you were to listen to yourself, you'd be curled up in your apartment under your sheets, but Jon was decided to change your ideas as much as he could.
And you couldn't thank him enough. You had followed him during his New Jersey tour and directly got on with the band and the other roadies. The tour had stopped three weeks ago for a hiatus before starting back at the end of January, which left you some free weeks.
"Can't wait to see you on the 31st, then."
The call ended some minutes later, silence filling your apartment. You got up from your couch and went into the kitchen; you grabbed a sharpie and barred the nineteenth day of the month on the calendar on your fridge. And as every day, you mentally barred the nineteenth day of the twelfth month of another year.
2022. You chuckled. Even when you lived... in your time, you found that year far-fetched.
You shook your head. Some people dwelled in the past. You, in the future. You leant against the wall. What was happening, out there? How was Mike? But did that future exist truly?
You yawned and tried to stop asking those questions resulting in a headache. Going to bed, you decided to do your Christmas shopping the day after.