Under Control.

chapter twenty six.

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The thing about spending time together on tour, was that actually, you didn't really spend time together at all.

You would often find yourself in the same places as your people — on stage, backstage, hotel rooms, beds, bathrooms, boats, planes, and buses. But, you never really talked to them. Not about life, anyway. You talked about what was happening that day, or in the next minute or so. You talked about what had happened last night, or how who was feeling and why. But you didn't talk-talk. Which was why, amongst a few other reasons, Albert never had actually gotten around to telling Julian that Nora had moved.

And that which was also the reason Julian had spent the better part of his first day back in the city struggling his way across town — and on crutches, no less — only to end up standing alone in front of the cleared out shell of a place that he used to know.

Julian hadn't bargained for this. He hadn't bargained for any of it, really. Not fucking things up with Nora before he'd gotten the chance to enjoy being with her, not the look on her face when he'd broken her heart, and certainly not being left to stand in the middle of a strange, faraway street watching her disappear from his and all of their lives. And the worst part about it was that at the time, he hadn't even known that it was goodbye, forever. Because if he had, he thinks, he never would have given up on her so easily.

Despite how much Julian hated himself himself for everything that had happened that night and how angry and regretful and hopelessly sad he'd been about it every day since, there had always been a little piece of him that'd taken for granted the selfish idea that he'd be able to land back into the city when the tour was over and come back here, to her apartment.

Even if nothing else was possible and Nora hated him — which, he assumed she did — he'd spent the past weeks and months on the road sustained by the mere hope that he'd able to at least see her again. And he'd figured that seeing her might also involve yelling, or crying, or at worst, silence. But even if one or all of those things ended up being the case, at least he'd still be able to lay eyes on her. So, the possibility that Nora wouldn't just be in his life for always had never occurred to Julian. Although, now that he was back here and she wasn't, that was an unfaceable reality that he was finally having to reckon with.

Her tiny apartment had become such an important touchstone in his orbit over the course of the past year. But now it was empty, and all of its lightness was gone. There was packing tape straggling across the baron floor, a phone directory stacked neatly on the kitchen bench, and the walls that had been the gallery of Nora's own making were now stripped bare. The nasturtium looked sad now that Nora was no longer here to care for it, and so too did Julian, who was lost in the doorway of the place that had become such an unexpected home to him.

But then, before Julian had the chance to properly wallow in the harsh reality he was now standing square in the middle of, he found himself being shaken from his swirling thoughts by the sound someone shouting after him — someone who was gaining on him quickly, and determined to dash all of his melancholy quiet.

'You after a better look at the place?'

Julian started at the sound of the strange voice before shuffling in a slow circle to turn around, only to then find himself face to face with a guy who looked inappropriately chipper for a Wednesday afternoon and, Julian quickly realised, who seemed to recognise him, too.

'Oh, shit. You're that guy — the band guy.'

This was new, recognition from strangers, and Julian was still getting used to it. He hadn't decided yet whether he liked it or not, but more and more every day, he found himself leaning toward the latter.