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October, 1980.
After a breathless kiss, Valerie promised to call John so they could pick up where they left off, that being the conversation to get to know each other better and maybe, a few kisses after. John didn't care anymore to look completely desperate or hooked on her. He made sure she had all the available numbers where she could communicate with him, before she departed to the next stop on her band's tour.
That kiss moved the floor and his entire world. It felt suspended in time, as if the world had slowed to the rhythm of a heartbeat. The air between them shimmered with a charged stillness, making every sound around them fade to silence. Their lips met softly, brushing together with a tenderness that spoke more than words ever could. It was gentle at first, a tentative, barely-there connection that deepened naturally, like two people who have found their way to one another after a long journey.
The warmth grew, and there was a feeling of floating, as though gravity itself had loosened its grip. The touch of her hands on the sides of his face, warm against his skin, grounded him even as the moment lifted him higher. The kiss was slow, unhurried, each second stretching in a way that let John savour every detail-the soft exhale of breath, the warmth of skin, the way both melt closer, as though the world outside had completely fallen away.
It made him feel full, glowing, as though something rare and beautiful just happened-something that could only exist in a dream.
Just to put it short.
So, John fell into insanity when weeks passed and Valerie didn't call. It also drove everyone else insane, because they were expecting a call for some kind of meeting or deal regarding the tape of demos. The sound of the phone was very nerve-wracking and John didn't leave a chance for others to answer the phones, any phone. At the Rum Runner, Roger didn't even bother to pick up the one at the bar cause he knew John already picked it up. At his parents' house, they would simply wait for him to tell them if the call was for them or not.
Sometimes, in the afternoons, he would spend his time contemplating the phone, thinking over and over again: "Ring, just ring." or "Call me, please call me." A month passed and he gave up, having the worst thoughts of insecurity as to why she didn't call.
Except, she did.
One evening of rehearsal at the Rum Runner, while he was playing around with some chords for Simon to get ideas about a song, Paul came down the stairs.
"Johnny."
"Yeah?"
"Valerie called me in a hurry, she said she tried to call all the numbers you gave her but some didn't exist and others belonged to complete strangers. She doesn't know if it's because she didn't understand your writing or you just messed up some of the digits."
"What?" he asked, agaped. "What do you mean? She just called you now, right now?"
"Yes, she said she put her team in trouble trying to get the number of the phone in the office. She thought that was the best option. I gave her the number of the phone we use down here and the phone number of your house. She said she's gonna try to call you as soon as possible."
