|#Wattys2015| HΔNGIN' |Bastille/Dan Smith fanfic|

16. A hole in my soul

A couple of days flew by, I don't even know what day today is if I'm really honest. I lost track in the haziness of life. Which I've also lost track of by the way. I don't know what life is anymore. Everything around me seems distant and the only person I've been around is Jess. I haven't wanted to see anyone. My band would just give me shit lots of sympathy when I don't want to hear it. It should've been me, I don't want people feeling sorry for me.

Jess has been keeping her distance, I think probably because she's given up on trying to cheer me up. I know that she feels awkward and never knows what to do in these situations. The boys have also told her to leave me be for a few days which is what they are also doing. Everyone needs time to grieve over their loved ones. Now is my turn. Now is my turn to wish it was me instead of him. My dad has done nothing to deserve to fucking die, whereas I have, so it needed to be me instead of him. It's not fair!

My father's funeral was today too. The turned out to be... what's the word? Emotional? Agonising? Too painful. Far too painful. When we were giving speeches, I was after mum and Fran, who kept it together by the way, and I couldn't say I single word without it turning into a fucking sob. Thats how painful it was having to say goodbye to my dead father while he lye in a wooden coffin. I fucking hated it but I did it, for him. For dad. I refused to leave until I had said what I needed to say. After that I was practically dragged out and back home by Woody and Jess. Mum and Fran went back home earlier today after the funeral, they were too upset to even say goodbye to me.

The fans have been giving sympathy on twitter but like always there are some careless people who don't give a shit and hate me, yet they call themselves fans. Stupid huh? But it's understandable that they hate me. At least they have sense to be like that, none of my band do. At least I think it's that way. I haven't sung since dad passed, I can't bring myself to. It hurts too much. it's like every time I open my mouth to sing, a lump forms in my throat, preventing me from doing so.
It's dad. He was the one that supported me most in music. He convinced me that I could sing when the bullies would take me down and say I couldn't. My voice has died with him.

"Dan... you've been sat here staring all day." I hear Jess say to me softly in my ear. She wraps he arms around me and leans into my chest.

"Sorry. I was thinking." I reply, it turning out to be just a whisper.

"That's what you've been saying everyday. Dan talk to me" Jess says and sits up, holding my hand. I wipe my wet checks with the sleeve of my hoodie and look at her.

"Since he's been gone... I... I just feel so empty, so torn apart" I confess to her, another tear escaping my dark blue eyes.

"Trust you to quote your own song" she chips in. I furrow my brows, what did I do?

"What? I didn't..."

"Er... yeah you did, 'torn apart' " Jess reminds. oh yeah, torn apart is a song on our VS. other people's heartache part three mix tape. I am so stupid, why didn't I get that straight away? Why didn't I realise I quoted a song I wrote? I'm so fucking stupid!

"Oh..." I'm forgetting my own music. I don't even want to sing it or listen to any of it. We're back on tour though in two weeks time. Great. I have to sing, with memories of dad flooding through me. Fucking great.

"Want to watch a film? It'll take your mind off of everything, an I can't stand to see you this upset." Jess says. I give her a nod and follow her out of the bedroom and to our lounge. I sit on the sofa while she put in the new Avengers cd into the DVD player.
I've never seen this film, so it will be interesting, at least more interesting that drowning myself in thoughts.