January 2027
Holmes Chapel
"Not again", he groans as he pats the bed searching for his phone, refusing to open his eyes. He finds it and answers without even checking the caller ID. I can always hung up, he thinks, or throw the phone out the window.
"Yes", he answers, his voice raspy with sleep.
"And he is alive!".
"Jeff". He greets him.
"What is going on?, When are you coming back?". He rolls on the bed, coughs and covers his eyes with his arm.
"You asked me the same question yesterday. I don't know. Not ready yet".
"Look I understood when you said you needed some time to heal, reflect, I get it... this job is a lot of pressure, and it's been non-stop since we started, but we have contracts Harry, and we can't break them".
He sighs. What do you really want, what do you really want. How do you feel about going back. How do you feel about going back. He repeats this mantra, as a way from stopping himself from doing stuff just because he is told to, or asked to, or he can't make a decision. A bad old habit from a time he would have done anything for fear of missing out on notoriety, fame, success... but he's on a drive drought, and he wants to understand why.
"I am not ready yet Jeff".
"The media is freaking out, your fans think you are retiring",
"Leak songs",
"we have no mv for your new single".
"make an AI video, or one with those cartoony things", he says waving his fingers up and down drawing on the air, as if he could see him, "or better, make the video for the fans, make it about them, use old live footage. I do not know Jeff, I pay you and the PR team for this. Release a statement if necessary but buy me time, it's what I want now".
"I am worried" jeff admits.
He smiles. "About me or about your business", it is a cruel comment, he knows. But it is about time he said it.
For a decade, as a solo artist, he has done nearly everything as he has been told. Even his breaks have been staged and PR filled. He is asking for some time off, for the first time.
"I intend to see this through, and I would appreciate your support on this, as my manager, but most of all as my friend", he hears him sigh.
"so you mean it".
"yes, I mean it. Please help me out, do what you do best".
"Ok, I will keep you posted. Be well Haz. I miss you".
7.30am and he is now wide awake. He gets up and put on his running clothes.
He comes back through the kitchen door an hour later, his mum is already up and by the wonderful smell filling the kitchen she is preparing breakfast.
"Morning sunshine", she greets him with a smile.
He walks to where she is standing, kettle in hand. "Morning", he greets her as he kisses her cheek and eyes what she is cooking sideways. Pancakes.
YOU ARE READING
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