Between Chords and Paragraphs (Polin fanfic) EN

Chapter 8

Penelope

A couple of months had passed since that awkward encounter with Colin, Marina, and Eloise on the street. Since then, Colin and I hadn't seen each other again, and in a way, I had forced myself to accept that it was for the best. However, that didn't make the news that Colin and Marina were dating any less painful. I found out through Eloise, who mentioned it casually during one of our get-togethers. I swallowed the lump in my throat and smiled as if it didn't matter, as if I hadn't been secretly hoping, against all logic, that Colin would change his mind.

Despite everything, life went on. I had secured a paid internship at a small magazine, a modest but cozy place, where the atmosphere was creative and full of fresh ideas. I threw myself into my work with enthusiasm, using each article and every deadline as a welcome distraction from my own thoughts.

One evening, my coworkers suggested going out for drinks after work. I wasn't really in the mood, but I knew I needed to distract myself and socialize a bit, so I agreed. Among them was Alfred, a guy I had met at the magazine with whom I had a good connection. He was funny, intelligent, and always found a way to make me laugh—something I had come to value more than I could have imagined lately.

-How about we go to the Jazz Café? - one of the guys in the group proposed excitedly.

My heart stopped for a moment. The Jazz Café. That place was loaded with memories, and the idea of going back there terrified me. It was on that stage where I had heard Colin sing "Yellow" for the first time, where I had felt more connected to him than ever. I wasn't sure if I could handle the flood of emotions that would surely come with just walking through its doors.

-I'm not sure... - I hesitated, searching for an excuse to avoid it.

Alfred, who was sitting next to me, raised an eyebrow, noticing my hesitation.

-Come on, Penelope. It'll be fun. Besides, I've heard the open mic nights are great, - he said with a smile, his tone light and encouraging.

Finally, I gave in. I didn't want to seem weak, and besides, I needed to prove to myself that I could face those memories and move on. I nodded with a forced smile, trying to convince myself that it was the right thing to do.

When we arrived at the Jazz Café, the place was buzzing with energy, with music vibrating in the air and soft lights creating a cozy atmosphere. I tried to relax and enjoy the company of my colleagues. Alfred was by my side, and soon we got lost in a conversation about the classic movies we both loved.

-Did you know 'Casablanca' was actually a low-budget film? - I commented, trying to keep my mind occupied with trivial topics.

-Yeah! And it ended up being a classic. I love how films from that era had a magic that's hard to replicate nowadays, - Alfred replied, his face lighting up with enthusiasm.

We talked for a while, laughing and sharing opinions about our favorite actors. I felt a real connection with him, something that pleasantly surprised me. The truth was, even though Colin was still on my mind, there was something comforting in Alfred's company, a sense that maybe, with time, I could move on.

But just as I was beginning to feel more comfortable, the familiar sound of an acoustic guitar filled the air. The voice that followed hit me like an unexpected storm. My body tensed, and every nerve ending was on high alert.

It was Colin. His voice sang with a melancholy that made my heart shrink, and I recognized it instantly. He was singing "I miss you, I'm sorry" by Gracie Abrams, and every word felt directed at me, as if he somehow knew I was there, listening. The song took over me, pulling me back to that night at the Jazz Café when I heard him sing "Yellow." The memory was so vivid I could almost feel the warmth of his voice wrapping around me again.