December 24th [COMPLETED]

20. Christmas at the Garden

A/N: This was the first pass at what would become the second half of Chapter 9 of Dec. 24th.

It was weird, being in New York at Christmas time, alone. George was having a hard time remembering the last time she had been in the city this long. Every time she tried to think back, her brain simply jumped back to New Year's Eve with Felix and his family in Brooklyn. That was the only Christmas in New York she seemed able to remember.

The lights and the crowds and the traffic provided little distraction as George's brain dragged her down memory lane against her will. But they were pretty to watch as they passed outside the taxi cab window.

It was easy to see the cause for all the traffic around the sports arena as a long line had formed leading away from the front doors. They hadn't opened up for the shows yet and all the concertgoers were stuck out in the cold, avoiding dirty piles of snow that took up significant portions of the sidewalks.

George told the driver to drop her off a block past the crowds. Her feet told her where to go as she wrapped her jacket tighter around her shoulders. The weather had no sympathy for the attendees of New York's annual Holiday Bash at the Garden and none whatsoever for George as she left the sidewalks for a narrow alleyway that dumped her out behind the arena.

The door was easy to miss as it was painted the same dark dirty gray as the rest of the wall but George could have found it blindfolded if needed. She wound her way through the endless hallways all splitting off in different directions, never once wandering which way to go. She knew the way. She had learned to walk in hallways just like this. The tape on the wall and on the floor were for the people who hadn't grown up on the road.

George might have been born in New York and brought home to her parent's apartment in the Village, but here, in halls like these, she had grown up. These venues, thousands of them, all across the world, they were her home. And George could feel it, the familiar sights, the muted colors of the concrete walls, all of it was like an old friend welcoming her back after a long journey. She had come home.

Anton had sent her the dressing room number. He had offered to come meet her at the door but George told him there was no need. She found the room without a guide and braced herself as she knocked right beneath the printed piece of paper that read "Artist Green Room: Reeve Keller."

"Georgie."

George tried smiling but was too slow as Anton pulled her in for a warm hug. He held her close but gently as if he could sense all the broken parts inside of her, and his hug was meant to keep them in place. At least for a little while.

"It's good to see you, kid."

George nodded and swallowed hard, suppressing the well of emotions that raced to her eyes.

"It's good to see you, too, Anton. You doing alright?"

George asked about him to try and distract that look in his eyes that made her stomach turn. He knew. Somehow, he knew. George had a feeling she could blame Julien and have a strong case to do so. There was pity in Anton's eyes that wasn't there at his studio. A look George had been trying to avoid ever since her meeting with the label.

"George. Hi."

Anton's summary of his movements and activities and upcoming projects since he had seen George only a few days ago was cut blissfully short when Reeve cut in. She wore the same pitiful look in her eyes but there was something else there, too. George's investigation into what it was, specifically, was put on hold as Reeve hugged her. George had a feeling she'd be getting a lot of those tonight.

"How are you?" Reeve asked.

Her question was so genuine, her eyes filled with concern and sympathy but something else, as well. There was an edge to her voice, a fire in her eyes. George saw her own anger hinted at in Reeve's expression. Anger, she could do.