Survivin' - [B.C.]

Chapter 43: Piano Kid

"Now," he said, getting to his feet. He pulled my weak and exhausted body up with him.

"Let's go find Sophie."

========= SURVIVIN' =========

Ben and I had tucked ourselves into a corner of the Hall where we assumed no one would notice us. I didn't have the emotional strength at that moment to tell Ben that he was a celebrity, and I was an up-and-comer, and there were 6,000 people in that very same room as us. There was absolutely no way we weren't going to be noticed.

There were several groups of people who saw me hiding away in that corner, periodically wiping at my eyes, and they came over to congratulate me and praise my work and my humor. My brain was broken at the time and wasn't able to completely compute what they were saying, but I thanked them all the same.

Then there came the time where I had my back turned to the crowd exiting the Hall, chattering more at Ben than to him about something Rylie and I had done a few weeks prior. I was still dabbing at my cannula every now and then to rid it of the mucus buildup. I didn't really notice when Ben had stopped paying attention and was trying to look polite and calm.

"Cal." He whispered, nudging me with his hands placed in front of him. I didn't bother stopping my rant and I continued on. He did it again.

"Cal, shh." He said. I did not. For one final time, to stop my incessant rambling, he stomped on my foot.

"Ow!"

"Cal, for the love of God, shut the fuck up!" He whisper-shouted through gritted teeth. Then he looked up and put on a very convincing smile. I turned my head to see who he was trying to warn me about, and then I promptly turned back around.

"Face him, you loon," Ben growled without hardly moving his grinning lips. I vigorously shook my head as my stomach began to feel like a volcano.

Holy shit, I was about to shit myself.

"Well, if it isn't the little internet sensation in the flesh," a very, very familiar voice that I had studied my entire life said. All of my body hairs stood on end. I felt like I was gonna projectile vomit onto Ben's fancy shirt.

"Hello, Mr. Joel." Ben greeted with a very polite nod. He threw me a threatening glance that I interpreted as turn-the-fuck-around-dickhead.

"Oh, please, call me Bill," the other replied.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Ben's hands were suddenly on my shoulders, spinning me around to face the 70-year-old legend face-to-face. I swallowed hard and tried to play off the fact that my eyes were wide and my mouth was dry. The man in front of me held out his hands. I found myself staring at the fingers that had curated my entire childhood and who I was as a person.

Ben grabbed my elbow and very discreetly led my arm to reach Billy's. My hand was initially wrapped very loose and very weak, but when my father pinched my skin, I instinctively tightened my grip.

"Wow! That's a firm handshake you've got there, buddy," Billy said with a slight chuckle. I quickly pulled my hand back as if I'd touched a hot burner. I still couldn't believe what was happening.