As the days passed, Rebel couldn’t contain his excitement. He devoured every book he could find about astrology and cosmic symbolism, as well as anything related to Syd Barrett’s life. His room began to fill with star charts, vinyl records, and posters of Pink Floyd. Rebel even started writing in a notebook—musings, lyrics, and bits of poetry inspired by his journey toward understanding the cosmos. He was piecing together his own view of the universe, and Syd’s music felt like a guide through that vast, unknown territory.
Finally, the day arrived for their trip. Johnny Thunders, true to his word, had set up everything. They’d fly to London, stay a few days, and then make their way to the small cemetery where Syd was buried. Rebel was almost nervous as they boarded the plane, but his dad’s relaxed, encouraging presence kept him grounded. Johnny had arranged for them to meet a mutual friend of Roger Waters who promised to help them reach out to Roger and David Gilmour, although there were no guarantees.
Their first day in London was a whirlwind. Johnny took Rebel to some of his old hangouts and introduced him to friends in the local music scene, many of whom had stories about Syd and Pink Floyd. Listening to these stories, Rebel felt his respect for Syd growing even deeper. Syd wasn’t just a cosmic wanderer; he was someone who had carved his own path in the face of the unknown.
That evening, as they sat in their small rented flat, Johnny noticed Rebel’s silent, pensive expression.
“Hey, you all right?” Johnny asked, leaning back with a mug of tea. “You’ve been pretty quiet since we got here.”
Rebel looked up, smiling slightly. “I guess I’m just… overwhelmed. This all feels so real now. I keep thinking, what if I actually meet Roger Waters? What if I get to talk to him about Syd? Do you think he’ll understand where I’m coming from?”
Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “Roger’s a smart guy, but he’s intense. Syd was his friend, you know? I think he’d get it. Syd wasn’t just some figure in a band to him; he was a part of his life, a friend who… went somewhere else, mentally speaking. I think if you tell him why you’re here, he’d listen. Don’t forget, he saw Syd get lost in his own world and had to carry on without him. That left a mark on him.”
Rebel absorbed Johnny’s words, a quiet determination filling him. The next morning, they set out for Cambridge, the town where Syd grew up and where he was now buried. As they walked through the cemetery, Rebel felt an odd calm wash over him, as though the very air around Syd’s grave carried an echo of his essence. Kneeling down, Rebel took a deep breath, unsure of how to express the flood of emotions inside him.
Johnny stood nearby, giving Rebel space. It was a private moment, a silent communion between Rebel and the spirit of the artist who had changed his view of the cosmos. As Rebel placed a small note on the grave, filled with his own words and thoughts about the universe, he whispered softly.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but… thank you, Syd. You showed me that there’s more to life than what’s right in front of us. I feel like I can see the stars differently now, like they’re trying to tell me something too.”
Later, as they were walking back to their flat, Johnny received a text. He grinned and handed the phone to Rebel. It was from Roger Waters’ manager, saying that Roger had agreed to a short meeting with Rebel in London before they flew home.
The next day, Rebel found himself sitting across from Roger Waters in a cozy London cafe. Roger listened patiently as Rebel explained his fascination with Syd and astrology, and how he felt a cosmic connection to Syd’s journey.
Roger smiled warmly, his eyes carrying a mixture of understanding and nostalgia. “You know, Syd was… a unique soul. He did seem to have a foot in another world. I think he felt things in a way most of us can’t, like he was tuned into a frequency beyond our grasp. I’ve thought about it a lot over the years. He was a mystery even to us. But it sounds like you’re on a journey to find your own answers, and that’s something I think Syd would respect.”
Rebel felt a wave of gratitude as he listened to Roger’s words. Meeting him, seeing his understanding and appreciation, made Rebel’s connection to Syd feel even more real.
As they left the cafe, Rebel felt a renewed sense of purpose. He’d set out to understand the universe and found a kind of cosmic guidance from an artist he’d never met. For Rebel, the journey wasn’t over—it was just beginning, a path paved by stars, memories, and cosmic music. And he knew, no matter where he went from here, he’d carry the spirit of Syd Barrett and his father’s unwavering support with him every step of the way.
