Between Chords and Paragraphs (Polin fanfic) EN

Chapter 17

Colin

The day had started with the adrenaline of the concert still coursing through my veins, but frustration soon took hold when I discovered my phone wouldn't turn on. I tried everything: charging it, restarting it, even asked one of the tech guys for help, but it was clear the phone was dead for good. Perfect. Today of all days, when I needed to talk to Penelope the most.

With every passing minute that I couldn't reach her, the anxiety intensified. I tried using the hotel's computer, but without the passwords saved on my phone, I couldn't access anything. I felt trapped, completely disconnected from her at a time when all I wanted was to hear her voice and tell her how much I missed her.

Time kept slipping away, and with each failed attempt to contact Penelope, my frustration grew. I tried to stay focused on the concert that night, but I couldn't stop thinking about how she might be worried or missing me. I felt helpless and furious with myself for not having anticipated a situation like this.

A few hours before the concert, while we were backstage fine-tuning details, Will, our drummer, approached with a sly grin. —Hey, Colin, looks like you had a good time with Cressida last night, —he said, with a tone that clearly suggested something more.

I frowned at him, confused. —What are you talking about, Will?

—Haven't you seen the photo? —he asked, chuckling. —It's all over the place.

—What photo? —I replied, feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Will pulled out his phone and showed me a post on Instagram. It was a selfie of Cressida and me, taken after the concert. We were laughing, and the caption read: "Nights to remember 💫. Between chords, paragraphs, and backstage moments."

I stared at the screen, feeling a cold anger begin to rise within me. I knew Penelope would see this and draw conclusions I couldn't blame her for drawing. It was like the weight of the world crashed down on me at that moment.

—Where's Cressida? —I asked Will, my voice more strained than I intended.

—In her dressing room, as usual —he replied, shrugging, oblivious to the storm of emotions I was feeling.

I marched to Cressida's dressing room with determined steps, anger growing with each stride. I opened the door without knocking, finding her seated at the mirror, touching up her makeup. She looked up at me and smiled, as if nothing had happened.

—Cressida, —I said in a sharp tone.

—Colin, darling, what's the matter? —she said, raising an eyebrow as if my presence was a complete surprise.

—Why did you post that photo? —I asked bluntly, my voice laced with barely contained fury.

Cressida let out a little laugh and shrugged. —Oh, come on, Colin. It's just a photo. It's not a big deal.

—It's not a big deal, —I repeated, trying to keep my anger in check. —Do you have any idea what Penelope will think when she sees this? She's going to think there's something going on between us. You need to delete that photo right now.

—And why should I? —Cressida asked, her tone shifting from playful to defiant. —It's my account, my life. I'm not doing anything wrong.

—This isn't a game, Cressida, —I snapped, feeling the rage starting to boil over. —That photo is going to cause misunderstandings, and it's going to hurt someone I care about. So I'm telling you again, delete it.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. —You know what, Colin? I'm not going to delete it. I don't care what you think or what your girlfriend thinks. It's just a fun picture. If she can't deal with that, that's her problem, not mine.